Chapter XIX: A One-Man Horse 69 (3)

I have found as a rule that abstruse written explanations are very difficult to understand. In a recent excellent book on riding-school training (not School-riding mind you), though I know perfectly well what the riding-school volte and demi-volte are, as well as the School-volte and demi-volte, simple and reversed, I have read certain paragraphs dozens of times, without being able to make the words mean what the movement really is. Colonel Anderson's book is very clear, though it goes fully into the refinements of the art, except the quasi-circus tricks and airs, and from it, with time and patience, a man can make himself an accomplished rider and his steed equal to any work--outside the sawdust ring.

But you, Tom, do not aspire to go so far in the training of Penelope.

XXV.

You must not suppose that a man who teaches his horse all the airs of the Haute Ecole constantly uses them, any more than an eminent divine is always in the act of preaching, or a _prima donna assoluta_ is at all times warbling or practicing chromatic scales, when each ought to be engaged in the necessary but prosaic details of life. The best results of School-training lie in the ability of the horse and rider to do plain and simple work in the best manner. Because a horse can traverse or perform the Spanish trot, his rider need not necessarily make him traverse or passage past the window of his inamorata, while he himself salutes her with the air of a grandee of Aragon. For this would no doubt be bad style for a modern horseman in front of a Beacon Street mansion; though truly it might be eminently proper, as well as an interesting display of horsemanship, for the same rider to traverse past his commanding general while saluting at a review on Boston Common. Nor because a horse can perform the reversed pirouette with perfect exactness will a School-rider stop in the middle of a park road and parade the accomplishment. But this same reversed pirouette is for all that the foundation of everything that a well-trained horse should be able to do, and if he knows it, he is ready to make use of it at all times for the greater ease, safety, and pleasure of his master.

You may ask of what use it can ever be. Suppose you were riding with a lady, on her left,--which is the safe and proper, if not the fashionable side,--and her saddle should begin to turn, say toward you, as it is most apt to do. If your horse minds the indication of your leg, you can keep him so close to your companion's as to afford her suitable assistance, even to the extent of bodily lifting her clear of her saddle. If your horse is only half trained, you cannot, perhaps, bring him to the position where you want him in season to be of any service at all. Have you never seen a man who was trying to open a gate at which a score of impatient, not to say objurgatory, riders were waiting, while the field was disappearing over the hills and far away, and who could neither get at it nor out of the way, because his crack hunter didn't know what the pressure of his master's legs meant, and fought shy of the gate, while keeping others from coming near it? Have you never stood watching a race at the Country Club, with a rider beside you whose horse took up five times the space he was entitled to, because he could not be made to move sidewise? Has not every one seen occasions when even a little training would have been a boon both to himself and his neighbors?

Talking of opening gates, one of the best bits of practice is to unlock, open, and ride through a common door and close and lock it after you without dismounting. Let it be a door opening towards you. If your horse will quickly get into and stand steady in the positions necessary to enable you to lean over and do all this handily at any door, gates will cease to have any terrors for you.

Nor must you suppose that every schooled horse is of necessity kept in his most skilled form at all times. As few college graduates of twenty years' standing can construe an ode of Horace, though indeed they may understand the purport and read between the lines as they could not under the shadow of the elms of Alma Mater, so Patroclus, for instance, is by no means as clever in the intricate steps of his School performances as he was when fresh from his education. But the result is there; and for all the purposes of actual use in the saddle, the training he has had at all times bears its fruit.

After this weary exordium of theory, Tom, for which my apologies, let us turn to a bit of practice.

XXVI.

And first about the horse himself. If you buy one, do so under such advice as to get soundness, intelligence, courage, and good temper. Our American horses, unless spoiled, generally have all these in sufficient measure, and can be made everything of. You have been exceptionally fortunate in your purchase of Penelope. She is light gaited, not long and logy in her movements, and carries her own head. She has remarkable good looks, an inestimable quality after you get performance; but beware of the May-bird which has good looks alone. She is fifteen three, nearly as high at the rump, and with tail set on right there, fine-bred, but with barrel enough to weigh about a thousand and twenty pounds. She looks like a thoroughbred hunter, Tom, every inch of her. This is a good height and weight for you, who ride pretty heavy for a youngster, and are apt soon to run up to "twel' stun eight."

You say Penelope is six years old. From five to eight is the best age, the nearer five the better. An old horse does not supple so readily. And she was well broken to harness? A good harness training is no harm to any horse, nor occasional use in light harness, whatever pride one may take in a horse which has never looked through a collar. In fact, many hunters in the Old Country are purposely used as tandem, or four-in-hand leaders during the summer, to give them light work, and bring them towards the season in firmer condition than if they had run at large and eaten their heads off. It is only the pulling or holding back of heavy weights which injures saddle gaits, and this because a saddle beast should be taught to keep his hind legs well under him, and remain in an elastic equilibrium; and dragging a load brings about the habit of extending the legs too much to the rear, while holding back gives a habit of sprawling and stiffening which is sadly at variance with a "collected" action.

XXVII.

You ask about dress. Wear anything which is usual among riders. Enamel boots as now worn are convenient to the constant rider, as the mud does not injure them as it does cloth, and water at once cleanses them. But plain dark trousers, cut a mere trifle longer than you wear them on the street, and strapped under the feet, are excellent to ride in. If cut just right they are the neatest of all gear for park riding in good weather. The simpler your dress the better. Gentlemen to-day dress in boots when riding with ladies, and fashion, of course, justifies their use now as it did fifty years ago. But within half that term, in England, a man who would ride in boots with a pretty horsebreaker considered trousers _de rigeur_, if he was going to the Park with his wife or daughters.

To saddle and bridle your horse, you must know your own needs and his disposition and mouth. But the English saddle and a bit and bridoon bridle, such as you have, are the simplest, and meet most wants, providing they fit the back and mouth.

We do not have to suit such varying tempers and mouths in this country as they do abroad. Our horses are singularly tractable. It is rather a stunning thing to be mounted on the fashionable type of horse who "won't stand a curb, you know,"--and there are some such,--but, as a fact, ninety-nine American horses out of one hundred will work well in a port and bridoon bridle properly adjusted.

Always buy good things. Cheap ones are dear at any price. Your saddle should fit so that when you are in it you can thrust your riding-whip under the pommel and to the cantle along the horse's backbone; otherwise you may get sore withers. The bits should hang in the mouth just above where a horse's tush grows. Penelope's sex, you see, Tom, precludes her having any.

XXVIII.

When you bought Penelope, she knew nothing of saddle work, and I told you to ride her a few times on a walk or a trot, anywhere and anyhow, so as to get used to her, and her used to you, before you began to teach her anything. She had presumably always been ridden to and from the blacksmith's shop, and worked kindly under saddle. You have got good legs, Tom, and any man with average legs can keep his seat after a fashion on a decently behaved horse. You were afraid you could not sit Penelope when you first bought her, and had not ridden for so long that you felt strange in the saddle. So I advised you to hire an old plug for a few rides until you were sure you would feel at home when you mounted her, meanwhile exercising her in harness. The better part of valor will always be discretion, now as in Falstaff's time, while the best of horses will get a bit nervous if kept long in a half-dark stable. Regular exercise is as essential to a horse as oil is to an engine, if either is to work smoothly.

You ask me the proper way to mount. Let us stop while you dismount, and I will show you the usual way. It is simple work. Stand opposite Nelly's near shoulder, a foot or so away from her, and facing towards the cantle of your saddle. Gather up your snaffle reins just tight enough to feel, but not pull on her mouth, and seize a part of her mane with your left hand. Insert your toe in the stirrup, just as it hangs, using your right hand if necessary. Then seize the cantle of the saddle with your right hand, and springing from your right foot, without touching the horse's flank with your left toe, raise yourself into the stirrup, pause a moment, and then throw the leg across the horse, moving your right hand away in season. If you were shorter, you might have to spring from your foot before you could touch the cantle. As in everything else, there are other and perhaps better ways to mount, and pages can be written upon the niceties of each method. But the above suffices for the nonce. You can choose your own fashion when you have tried them all.

An active youngster, like yourself, should be able to vault into the saddle without putting the left foot into the stirrup at all. In all Continental gymnasiums, this is one of the usual exercises, on a horse-block with imitation saddle, and is an excellent practice. By all means learn it.

XXIX.

You do not seem to hold your reins handily, Tom. Of all the methods of holding reins I prefer the old cross-country way of a generation back, still recommended, I was pleased to see, in the very excellent article "Horse" of the edition of the "Cyclopaedia Britannica" now publishing, and I fancy yet much in vogue.

The School method is different; but the School requires that the curb and snaffle shall be used for different indications or "aids" to convey the rider's meaning to the horse, and not at the same time. In ordinary saddle work it is generally convenient to employ the reins together. Gather your reins up with me. The near curb outside little finger, near snaffle between little and third fingers, off snaffle between third and middle, off curb between middle and index, all four gathered flat above index and held in place by thumb, knuckles up. Or easier, take up your snaffle by the buckle and pass the third finger of left hand between its reins; then take up the curb and pass the little, third, and middle fingers between its reins. The snaffle reins, you see, are thus inside the curb reins, each is easily reached and distinguished and you can shift hold from left hand to right, or _vice versa_, more readily than in any other way, by merely placing one hand, with fingers spread to grasp the reins, in front of the other. By having the loop of each rein hanging separate so that the free hand can seize it quickly, either can be shortened or lengthened at will, or they may be so together. Moreover, this hold affords the easiest method of changing from one to both hands and back.

For if you insert your right little finger between the off reins, and your third finger inside the snaffle rein, and draw the off reins from your left hand slightly, you have a very handy means of using both hands, with the additional value that you can either drop the right reins by easing the length of the left ones to equalize the pressure on the horse's mouth; or by grasping the left reins with right middle finger over snaffle and first finger over curb, you can shift to the right hand entirely. When in this position you can again use the left hand by inserting its fingers in front of the right one and closing upon the reins, as already indicated. In fact, without lengthening the near reins, but merely by placing the right hand in any convenient way on the off ones, you may be ready to use both hands in entirely proper fashion. And in this day of two-handed riding, it is advisable to be able to follow the fashion quickly.

For School airs, this also affords an easy way of using separately curb and snaffle, as is often necessary.

If you are riding with single reins, you will place them on either side of third or little finger, or embracing little, third, and middle fingers and up under thumb in similar manner. A single rein may be held in many ways.

With all other double-rein methods, except the one described, you have to alter the position of reins in shifting from hand to hand. With this one the order of reins and fingers remains the same.

Any other system of holding the reins which you prefer will do as well, if you become expert at it. I have tried them all, from Baucher's down, and have always reverted to what was shown me thirty odd years ago.

Your curb chain should be looser than it is, Tom. A horse needing a stiff curb is unsuited to any but an expert rider, and must have a great many splendid qualities to make up for this really bad one. Some people like a mouth they can hold on by, but they do not make fine horsemen. Never ride on your horse's mouth, or, as they say, "ride your bridle." Many men like a hunter who "takes hold of you," but this won't do on the road, if you seek comfort or want a drilled horse. You see that Nelly keeps jerking at the curb. Let out a link, at least. An untrained horse seeks relief from the curb by poking out his nose, the trained one by giving way to it and arching his neck. It is better at first only to ride on your snaffle rein, leaving your curb rein reasonably loose; or else you may use only a snaffle bit and single rein for a while. But unless you very early learn that your reins are to afford no support whatever to your seat, you will never be apt to learn it. Don't use a martingale unless your horse is a star-gazer, or else tosses his head so as to be able to strike you. It tends to make you lean upon the rein and confines your horse's head.

XXX.

You have now been out a half-dozen times with your new purchase, Tom, and you have managed to get along much to your own satisfaction. You have neither slipped off, nor has Penelope misbehaved. But you are intelligent enough to see that there is something beyond this for you and her to learn. I do not know how ambitious you are. If you want to make Nelly's forehand and croup so supple that you can train her into the finest gaits and action, you must go to work on the stable floor with an hour a day at least of patient teaching, for a number of weeks. For this purpose you must have a manual of instruction, such as I have shown you, and quite a little stock of leisure and particularly of good temper.

The ordinary English trainer thinks that a good mouth may be made in two weeks, by strapping a colt's reins to his surcingle for an hour or two daily, and by longeing with a cavesson. But excellent as cavesson work may be, this means alone will by no means produce the quality of mouth which the Baucher method will make, or which you should aim to give to Nelly.

Still I know that you have but limited time, Tom, and that you want your daily ride to educate both yourself and your mare. This can be accomplished after a fashion; but it is only what the primary school is to the university,--good, as far as it goes. The trouble with beginning to supple a horse's neck when in motion is that you ask him to start doing two things at once, that is, move forward at command and obey your reins, and he will be apt to be somewhat confused. He will not as readily understand what you want him to do, as if standing quiet and undisturbed.

With plenty of courage, Tom, Penelope seems to have a very gentle disposition. Almost all of our American horses have. They are not as apt to be spoiled in the breaking-in as they are abroad. And I fancy she is intelligent. You should have no difficulty in training her, and in teaching her a habit of obedience which she will never forget.

It is all but an axiom that an unspoiled horse will surely do what he knows you want him to do, unless he is afraid to do it, or unless, as is generally the case, you yourself are at fault. The difficulty lies in making him understand you. Remember this, and keep your patience always. If a horse is roguish, as he often will be, it is only a moment's play, and he will at once get over it, unless you make it worse by unnecessary fault-finding. I generally laugh at a horse instead of scolding him. He understands the tone if not the words, and it turns aside the occasion for a fight or for punishment.

Never invite a fight with a horse. Avoid it whenever you can accomplish your end by other means. Never decline it when it must come. But either win the fight or reckon on having a spoiled horse on your hands, who will never thoroughly obey you.

And remember that a horse who obeys from fear is never as tractable, safe, or pleasant as one who has been taught by gentle means, and with whom the habit of obeying goes hand in hand with love for his master and pleasure in serving him. I do not refer to those creatures which have already been made equine brutes by the stupidity or cruelty of human brutes. One of these may occasionally need more peremptory treatment, but under proper tuition even such an one needs it rarely.

XXXI.

Let us have a trot, and see how Penelope moves, and how you sit. You, Tom, will take your pace from me. There is nothing more unhorsemanlike and annoying than for a rider to keep half a horse's length in front of his companion. Your stirrup should be even with mine. A gentleman can be a foot or two in front of a lady, for safety and convenience, but men should ride as they would walk, all but arm in arm. Now you can see the effects of education. Penelope insists on trotting a twelve-mile gait, and no wonder, for she has such fine, open action, that a sharp gait is less effort to her than a slow one. On the contrary, I, who, as the senior, have the right to give the pace, am satisfied with two-thirds that speed; and Patroclus, who, as you well know, can easily out-trot, or, I fancy, out-run your mare, and would dearly like to try it, yields himself to my mood without an ounce of pull or friction. Look at his reins. They are quite loose. Now look at yours. Nelly is pulling and fretting for all she is worth, while you are working your passage. Two miles like that will take three out of her and five out of you. She will fume herself into a lather soon, while Pat will not have turned a hair. She certainly is a candidate for training. You appear to need all the strength of your arms to pull her down to a walk, whereas a simple turn of the wrist, or a low-spoken word, should suffice.

By the way, always indulge in the habit of talking to your horse. You have no idea of how much he will understand. And if he is in the habit of listening for your words, and of paying heed to what you say, he will be vastly more obedient as well as companionable. Patroclus and I often settle very knotty questions on the road. We think we helped elect Cleveland. And I must confess that occasionally a passer-by fancies that I am talking to myself, whereas, if he but knew the meaning of Patroclus' lively ears, he would see what a capital comrade I have, and one, moreover, who, like one's favorite book, is never impertinent enough to answer back, or flout you with excessive wisdom. It is certainly a very pleasant study to see how many words or phrases a horse can learn the meaning of, and act intelligently when he hears them.

XXXII.

What, then, shall you do first in the way of education? Well, let us see. As Nelly has been broken to harness, she can probably only walk and trot. You, yourself, seem to stick fairly well to the saddle. But how about your own position? Your leathers are a trifle long. They should be of just such length that, when you are in the middle of the saddle, on your seat, not your crotch, with the ball of your foot in the stirrups, your feet are almost parallel with the ground, the heel a trifle lower than the toes. Your toes are below your heels, you see. You should be able to get your heels well down when you settle into your saddle. The old rule of having the stirrups just touch the ankle-bone when the foot is hanging is not a bad one. The arm measure is unreliable, and physical conformation, as well as different backed horses, often require, even in a sound man, odd lengths of leathers.

You should not attempt to ride with your feet "home" until you can keep your stirrup under the ball of your foot without losing it, whatever your horse may do; and when you do ride "home," you should occasionally change back to the ball of your foot, so as to keep in practice. Moreover, you can train a horse much more easily, riding with only the ball of the foot in the stirrup, for you can use your legs to better advantage. My disability obliges me to ride "home" at all times, and I have always found it much more difficult to teach a horse the right leg indications than the left. I have to employ my whip not infrequently, in lieu of my leg. Your stirrup should be larger and heavier, for safety. I don't like your fine, small stirrups; and your saddle should have spring bars, which you should always keep from rusting out of good working order. They have saved many a man's collar-bone.

Be in the habit of using your knees and thighs alone for grip, though the closer you clasp the saddle without getting your legs _around_ the horse, the better. In the leap, or with a plunging horse, you may use the upper part of the calf, or as much more as your spurs will allow you to use. But of all equestrian horrors the worst is the too common habit of constantly using the calves instead of the knees to clasp the saddle-flaps. To such an extent is this often carried by a tyro (and no man gets beyond this stage who does it), that you can see an angle of daylight between the points where his thigh and calf touch the saddle, showing that his knee, which ought to be his main and constant hold, does not touch the saddle at all. The stirrup-leathers, especially if heavy, as they should be, often hurt the knee, if you are new to the saddle, and perhaps are the main inducement to this execrable habit. But you must either get your knees hardened, or else give up the saddle. Keep a steady lookout for this. You will never ride if you don't use your knees. If you do use them properly, your feet will look after themselves. Ride with the flat of the thigh and the knee-bone at all times close to the saddle.

Sit erect, but avoid rigidity. It is good practice to sit close, that is, without rising, on a slow jog-trot. Let us try. Sit perfectly straight and take the bumping. On a jog-trot, it is an unpardonable sin to lean forward at all. You will find that shortly it does not bump you so much, and by and by it will not at all. But don't lean back either. That is the country bumpkin's prerogative. Nelly is evidently easy enough, only she has not been taught to curb her ambition. Nothing shakes a man into the saddle better than this same jog-trot. Nothing is more absurd than the attempt to rise when the horse is only jogging, or, as it were, the attempt to make your horse begin to trot by beginning to rise. It looks like an attempt to lift yourself up by your boot straps. Teach him some other indication to start a trot. It is useless to rise unless a horse is going at least a six-mile gait.

Some School-riders taboo the jog, but all the cavalry of the world use it; it is the homeward gait of the tired hunter, and it does teach a man a good, easy, safe seat. It is true that a horse who won't walk at speed, but who falls from a slow walk into a jog whenever you urge him, is a nuisance. Moreover, the uneducated jog is neither a fashionable nor a desirable gait. But a schooled jog, which the horse does under your direction and control, is quite another thing, and a jog greatly relieves a tired horse. It seems to be unjustly tabooed. Unless, then, you are ultra-fashionable, make a habit of jogging now and then. By this I mean jogging with your horse "collected," so that you have not an ounce of hold on his mouth, and he is still under your absolute control, your seat meanwhile being firm and unshaken. But never let the horse jog of his own motion. That may spoil his walk. Make him jog only when you want him to do so, and when walking, do not let him fall into a jog unbidden. The jog I mean should be almost a parade gait; too slow to rise to, but still perfect in action, and so poised that from it your horse can bound into any faster gait at word.

Your hands are too high. They want to be but a couple of inches above the pommel, better lower than higher. A man whose reins wear out the pigskin on his pommel is all right. A horse who carries his head high needs lower hands. Some low-headed horses require the hands to be held a bit higher to stimulate the forehand.

It is difficult to say thus much without saying a great deal more; for this is but a hint of what is essential to correct such a physical defect as a low-carried head. But what I tell you will whet your appetite for a thorough knowledge, and this you will find in the books of Baucher's followers. The use of snaffle and curb, each for its best purpose, is very delicate.

Let me again repeat, of all things never hang on your horse's mouth. You may have to do so on Penelope's, or rather Penelope may hang on your hands, till you get her suppled, but you must try to do that soon. You don't want to be a "three legged rider." If you cannot learn to ride at any gait and speed smoothly and well, with your reins so loose that you might as well not have them in your hands, you will never do anything but "ride the bridle."

This applies to your seat, not to Penelope. It is not wise habitually to ride with reins too loose; you should always feel your horse's mouth. But you can feel it without a tight rein. Good driving horses often pull. A good riding horse should never do so.

Nelly seems to be sure-footed. If she is apt to stumble, sell her. Your neck is worth more than your pocket. By School-training and its consequent habit of keeping the hind legs well under him, a stumbler will learn instinctively to bring up the succeeding hind foot to the support of the yielding fore foot, so as to save himself a fall; but you don't want an imperfect horse, Tom. If Nelly can trot without stumbling, it is excellent practice for you to tie the reins in a knot on her neck, and to ride along the road without touching them. When you feel as secure this way as any other, your seat is strong. You do not want to do this _en evidence_. But get off on the country roads and practice it. This is one advantage of a careful riding-master and a good school; a pupil is taught the seat apart from and before the uses of the reins.

XXXIII.

As I think you have already mastered all that I have told you, you may begin to teach Penelope a bit. But remember that, as you are both intelligent, she will be teaching you at the same time. I notice that you have to use two hands to guide your mare, and I presume you want to learn some better way, for however necessary two hands may occasionally be, a horse must at times be managed by one. There are three methods of guiding a horse under saddle. The simplest, and the one requiring the least education, is the same which you are using, and which is the common way of driving, by holding the rein or reins of each side in one hand, and by pulling rein on the side you wish Nelly to turn to. It is possible to guide this way with one hand by a suitable turn of the wrist, but unless the horse is well collected, as few of our horses nowadays are, it is a poor reliance in any unusual case. The next method is guiding by the neck, by which the horse is made to turn to the right if you draw the rein across or lay it upon the left side of his neck, and _vice versa_. The third method combines the two others, and the horse obeys either indication. It requires the highest art in man and beast, and is superb in results when learned. The animal may be guided by the bit with the reins held in one hand, applying the pressure by the turn of the wrist, or may be turned by the neck while the bit is used to lighten one or other side. But this requires a hand and mouth of equal delicacy, and a horse always in a state of equilibrium.

You will need only the first two to begin with, and Nelly already knows the first.

Most horses now and then require you to use both hands, and School-riding calls for their use in the more difficult feats. But an agreeable saddle beast should guide by the neck readily at all times. Stonehenge calls this a "highly desirable accomplishment," but it is really only the beginning of the alphabet of the horse's education; and indeed in the School airs, though both hands be used, the forehand is constantly thrown to one or the other side by the neck pressure, the direct tension of the rein being used to give the horse quite a different indication at the same moment.

Moreover, you will not always be able to devote two hands to Nelly. You may need one of them for something else. It would be embarrassing not to be able to use your whip or crop, or to button your glove, or to take off your hat, and at the same time to turn a corner or avoid a team. I have often ridden with people who so entirely relied upon both hands, that they had to draw rein for so simple a thing as the use of their handkerchief, lest their horse should fly the track while their right hand was so engaged. And while I am to a certain extent an advocate for the use of two hands, I cannot agree with the habit of the day of so constantly employing two that the horse and rider both lose the power of doing satisfactory work with one.

By all means teach Nelly to guide by the neck. When you have done this, you may resort to both hands again whenever you desire. And the habit of using both hands is certainly more apt to keep your shoulders, and hence your seat straight. But a horse who cannot be guided with one hand under all but the most exceptional conditions is not fit for saddle work on the road. In the more intricate paces of the School, indeed, the soldier uses but one hand; and though often more delicate hints can be imparted to a horse's mind by two, yet all except the greatest performances of the _manege_ can be accomplished with one, and a horse who is unable to rehearse perfectly all the road gaits and movements with the indications of one hand and two heels is sadly lacking in the knowledge he should boast.

You very naturally ask how this is to be taught. It is by no means difficult. Have you never noticed a groom riding a horse in a halter? Any steady horse can be so ridden. The halter rope is usually on the left side of the neck because the man has it in his hand when he jumps on, and he guides the horse by a pull on the halter rope if he wants him to turn to the left, and by laying the rope upon and pulling it across the neck pretty well up if he wants him to turn to the right. Now you will notice that if you hold the reins far up on Nelly's neck, half way from withers to ears, and pull them across the left (near) side of her neck, she will, after a little uncertainty, be apt to turn to the right, although the pull is on the left side of the bit. Try it and see. There,--she has done it, after some hesitation. And she did it because she felt that her head was being forced to the right and she very naturally followed it. The reverse will occur if you will pull the reins across the right (off) side of the neck. Some horses seize this idea very quickly, and it is only a matter of practice to keep them doing the same thing as you gradually bring the reins farther and farther down the neck till they lie where they should be, near the withers. If Nelly will thus catch the idea, a week or ten days will teach her a good deal, and in a month she will guide fairly well by the neck;--after which, practice makes perfect. If she had not seemed to catch the idea, and had turned the other way, it would have been because the pull on the bit impressed her mind rather than the pressure on the neck acting in the opposite way. Under such circumstances you should, when you press the rein on the near side of her neck, take hold of the off rein also and force her to turn to the right, trying to make the neck pressure a little more marked than that on the bit. A horse quickly learns to appreciate the difference between the direct pull of the rein on the bit and the indirect one made across the neck. None of the neat movements of the _manege_ can be executed unless a horse has learned absolutely to distinguish between an indication to turn, and one which is meant to lighten one side in order to prepare for a School movement, or to enable him to lead or exhibit pronounced action with that side.

At first you had perhaps better teach Penelope to guide only one way by the neck, using the rein alone for the other turn. But you can determine this by her intelligence. If there is any place where you can ride in an irregular circle or quadrangle, you can, after Nelly gets used to turning in a certain direction at the corners, press the reins on the opposite side of her neck as she is about to turn, so that she may get to associate this pressure with the movement in the direction away from it. This is the way horses learn in a riding-school. Or if she is going towards home and knows the corners she has to turn, do not let her make them of her own accord, but hold her away from them until you give her the neck pressure. Or you can zig-zag along the road if you are in a quiet place where people will not think that you are _toque_, or that your mare has the staggers. It will thus not be long before Nelly gets the idea, and the mere idea, once caught, is quickly worked into a habit. Sometimes I have got a horse to guide passably well by the neck in a day. Oftener, it takes a week or two, while delicacy comes by very slow degrees.

XXXIV.

When you have got Nelly to the point where she guides fairly well by the neck, what next?

It is evident that the muscles of your mare's neck are rather rigid, for she carries it straight, though her crest is well curved. From this rigidity springs that resistance to the bit which she so constantly shows. A neck which arches easily means, as a rule, obedience to it. It is extremely rare that a horse will arch his neck, except when very fresh, so as to bring his mouth to the yielding position and keep it there, of his own volition; and then he is apt to pull on your hands. You must not suppose that an arched neck means that the horseman is worrying his beast to make him appear proud or prance for the purpose of showing off. It is precisely this which a good horseman never does. He always uses his bits gently. It is cruelty, as well as ruin to the horse's mouth, to hold him by the curb until his neck tires, and he leans upon it, held suspended by the equal torture of the chain and the aching muscles. A horse never should pull on a curb. If your hands are light, the curb rein may be loose and still the horse's head be in its proper position, that is, about perpendicular. The well-trained horse, without the slightest effort, arches his neck to the curb or snaffle alike, and keeps it so. It is only when his rider releases it, or chooses to let him "have his head" that he takes it. Often, in fact, a horse will not do so when you give him the chance. Patroclus here will get tired out, certainly completely tire me out, long before his bit becomes irksome. When trotting, or when galloping across the fields or in deep snow, I am often apt to let him carry his head as he chooses on account of the change or the extra exertion. But with his well-suppled neck I always feel certain that the slightest intimation of the bit will bring his head in place instead of meeting resistance. And he generally seems to prefer to bring his head well into the bit, so, as it were, to establish agreeable relations with you. I often notice that he feels unsteady if I give him his head too much. And when tired, he seems to like the encouragement given by light and lively hands all the more.

The first thing, then, to do is to get Penelope's neck suppled. This means that the naturally rigid muscles of the neck shall be by proper exercises made so supple as to allow the mare to bring her head to the position where there can be a constant "give and take" between your hands and her mouth. The usual outward sign of such suppleness is an arched neck, though as occasionally an habitual puller will arch his neck naturally, this is not an infallible sign. And some horses, especially thoroughbreds, however good their wind, will roar if you too quickly bring their heads in. This is because the wind-pipe of such horses is compressed too much by arching the neck. Thoroughbreds on the turf are wont to stick their noses out while running, because this affords them the best breathing power at very high speed. This habit becomes hereditary, and among them there are not a few who cannot readily be brought in by the bit. Sometimes, except as a feat, you can never supple such necks. Oftener, it only needs more time and patience,--in other words a slower process. A limber-necked thoroughbred has, however, the most delightful of mouths, except for the fact that he seems occasionally to draw or yield almost a yard of rein, owing to the length of his neck, and your hands have to be watched accordingly. If he has such a neck, the only safety, if he is high-strung, is never to let him beyond the hand.

The result of the suppling of the neck is a soft mouth under all conditions. How shall you begin to supple Nelly's neck, you ask, without the long process of the Schools?

You cannot perfectly, but you may partially do this under saddle. Whenever you are on a walk you may, as a habit, let your horse have his head, and encourage him to keep at his best gait. A dull walker is a nuisance. A little motion of the hands or heels and an occasional word will keep him lively and at work, and get him into the habit of walking well, if he has enough ambition. The School-rider keeps his horse "collected" on the walk at all times, and though the steps are thus shortened, they become quicker and more springy, and the speed is not diminished. I do either way, as the mood takes me, for though I incline to the method of the School-riders, I do not think that it hurts a horse to have entire freedom now and then.

Some amblers are slow walkers, but the five-mile amble takes the place of the rapid walk, and is often more agreeable. Few horses walk more than three and a half miles an hour. A four-mile walk is a good one. Exceptionally, you may reach the ideal five miles. I once knew a horse in Ohio who walked (and not a running walk either, but a square "heel and toe" walk) six miles in an hour, on wagers. But our confab, Tom, often gets too diffuse. Let us go on with our lesson.

XXXV.

Here we are quietly walking along the road. Suppose you draw up the reins a bit, the curb somewhat the more. Nelly will at once bring up her head, and very naturally stick out her nose in the endeavor to avoid the pressure of the curb chain. At the same time, as you see, she will shorten her steps. Don't jerk or worry her, but still exert a gentle pressure on the curb, and keep up a slight vibrating movement of the hands, speaking to her kindly. In a moment or two, she will arch her neck, and the bit will hang loosely in her mouth. There, you see, her nose comes down, and a handsome head and neck she has! Now pat her, and speak caressingly to her, and after a few seconds release her head. When these exercises are done on the stable floor, the use of the snaffle will accomplish the same result, and this is very desirable. But if you begin these flexions on the road you must use the curb, because Nelly now understands the snaffle to be for another purpose. The use of the curb is apt to lower a horse's head, and with some horses too much. The snaffle may be employed to correct this low carriage, but this use of it involves more than I can explain to you now. If Nelly's head gets too low, raise your hands a bit.

Try it over again, and each time prolong the period of holding her head in poise. But never hold it so long that her neck will ache and she begin to lean upon the bit. If she should do so before you release her head, play gently with the rein for an instant to get her back to the soft mouthing of the bit, caress her, and then release her head. This is on the principle that you should always have your way with a horse, and not he his. And kindness alone accomplishes this much more speedily and certainly than severity. If the occasion ever comes when you cannot have your way with Nelly, give a new turn to the matter by attracting her attention to something else, so as not to leave on her mind the impression that she has resisted you.

Notice two things, Tom, while Nelly is thus champing her bit. She has an almost imperceptible hold of your hands and her gait is shorter and more elastic. This has the effect of a semi-poised position, from which she can more readily move into any desired gait than from the extended looseness of the simple walk. This is one step towards what horsemen call being "in hand," or "collected;" and grooms, "pulled together," though indeed the "pulling together" of the groom but very distantly approaches the fine poise of the Schools.

Of all means of destroying a good mouth, to allow the horse to lean upon the curb is the surest. Avoid this by all means. But so long as Nell will bring in her head and play with the bit, keep her doing so at intervals. After a week or two she will be ready to walk quite a stretch with her head in position, and you will both of you have gained something in the way of schooling her mouth and your hands. You can then try her on a trot, and if you can keep your seat without holding on by the reins, she will learn to do the same thing at this gait too, and later at the canter and the gallop. But unless your own seat is firm and your hands are light, you will only be doing her future education an injury. Every twitch on her sensitive mouth, occasioned by an insecure seat or jerky hands, will be so much lost. Moreover, your curb chain must neither be too long nor too short. If too long, Nelly will not bring down her head at all. If too short, it will worry her unnecessarily. You can judge of it by her willingness gradually to accustom herself to it without jerking her head or resisting it, and without lolling her tongue.

This suppling of Nelly's neck which you will give her on her daily ride is only of the muscles governing the direct up and down motion of the head and neck. You are not overcoming the lateral rigidities. This requires stable exercises. If you have leisure for these (and you very likely will make some when you find the strides in comfort and elegance Nelly is making), you will buy one of the manuals I have told you about. What you have taught her, however, is excellent so far as it goes, and is time well employed. It will serve its purpose upon the road, if it does not suffice for the more perfect education.

XXXVI.

The next step will be for you to try to supple the croup or hind-quarters of your mare. The two things can go on together, though it is well to get the forehand fairly suppled before beginning on the croup. The flexions of the croup are fully as important, if not more so, than those of the forehand, and in their proper teaching lies the root of your success. If you wear spurs, you should be absolutely sure you will never touch Nelly with them by accident. Spurs need not to be severe in any event. It is uselessly cruel to bring the blood, except in a race, where every ounce of exertion must be called for. Spurs in training or riding should never be used for punishment. They will be too essential in conveying your meaning to Penelope for you to throw away their value in bad temper. The horse should learn that the spur is an encouragement and an indication of your wishes, and should be taught to receive its attack without wincing or anger.

The old habit of the _manege_ was to force all the weight of the horse, by the power of a severe curb bit, back upon his haunches, and oblige him to execute all the airs in a position all but poised upon his hind legs. The modern dispensation endeavors to effect better results by teaching the animal to be constantly balanced upon all four legs, and, by having his forces properly distributed, to be in a condition to move any of them at the will of his rider in any direction, without disturbing this balance. Moreover, the element of severity has been eliminated from training altogether.

Suppose, then, that you are walking Nelly and are holding her head in poise. Now bring your legs gently together, so as to slightly touch her sides. You will see that she at once moves quickly towards the bit. Here she must find herself held in check by it. The result of the two conditions will be that she will get her hind legs somewhat more under her than usual. It is just this act, properly done, which produces the equilibrium desired. When a horse is what is termed "collected," or "in hand," he has merely brought his hind feet well under him, and has yielded his mouth to your hands in such a way that he can quickly respond to your demands. This he cannot do when he is in an open or sprawling position.

It were better to teach Nelly this gathering of the hind legs under her by certain preliminary exercises on foot; but you can by patient trial while mounted accomplish a great part of the same result. And between bit to restrain her ardor and spur to keep her well up to it, the mare will get accustomed to a position of equilibrium from which she can, when taught, instantly take any gait, advance any foot, or perform any duty required. She will be really in the condition of a fine scale which a hair's weight will instantly affect.