Part 19

The horseman makes the horse, As the husband makes the wife.

But it is not enough to have softened and tamed the horse. Although by means of kind treatment, daily intercourse, and punishment judiciously applied, he has become docile, and a good action has been secured, his education is still incomplete. It still remains to perfect him, and to do so they train him to the following exercises:

El Feuzzâa, "setting off suddenly at full gallop." To accomplish this they pursue nearly the same method as ourselves, with this difference that they avail themselves of the aid of the tekerbeâa, which we have already described, so that a horse must be altogether impracticable if he does not act as he is required to do.

El Kyama, "going free." They rush the animal at a wall, or tree, or a man, and pull him up short. By degrees he will learn to halt abruptly in the middle of a rapid career, on the bank of a river or on the edge of a ravine or precipice—a valuable accomplishment, oftentimes most advantageous in war. If a young horse is not a free-goer, but capers about and obstinately refuses to separate from the other horses, a fault of the last consequence to an Arab, he is cured by the following process. The owner's friends get on horseback and draw themselves up in two lines, facing each other and two or three paces apart. The horse is then ridden between these two hedges. If he stops, the horsemen beat him with sticks, while his rider plies him vigourously with the spur. A fortnight of this lesson is more than enough for the most obstinate.

El Lotema, "the wheeling round." This exercise consists in turning suddenly to the right or left, but more frequently the latter, as soon as the rider has fired off his piece. The principle is this, the trigger being pulled, the horseman strikes his horse sharply with the left hand behind the saddle, and at the same moment with his right hand on the neck. The animal understands what is meant, and in a very short time learns to obey merely the movement of his rider's body. This instruction is inculcated with the greatest care, being of great importance to the Arab, who is so often exposed to single combats.

El Djery, "the race." They first of all make the animal go at a swift pace by itself over a level plain, stimulating it with whip and spur, but only for a short distance. After a while they match the colt against an old horse of some renown. The young one becomes excited, and does his utmost to maintain the contest. These exercises being frequently repeated serve likewise to give the owner an exact knowledge of his horse's capabilities, and of what he may safely undertake with him in the future. They are not unattended with danger, but "the angels have two special missions in this world: to preside at the racing of horses and at the union of man with woman." It is their duty to preserve horsemen and horses from all accident, and to see that marriages are fruitful.

Teneguize, "the leap." Moreover, the colt must be taught to leap. This teaching is progressive and demands much patience. The lesson is not repeated more than twice or thrice in the course of one day. At first they begin with small obstacles, so as not to disgust the animal, nor is he brought face to face with any of a serious nature until he is quite docile and fully developed. Unquestionably, the Arabs regard the leap as the necessary complement of a colt's education, but they are far from attaching to it the same importance that Europeans do. Their country is for the most part difficult, full of ravines, strewed with huge stones, and covered with prickly bushes. They assert, therefore, that if they were to jump over every obstacle they encounter either in war or in hunting, they would be always jumping, which would fatigue their horses terribly and in the long run ruin them. Consequently, they go round any very rough ground, ride down almost perpendicular places, and go straight up the steepest slopes, and practice renders their horses so adroit that in a long journey they reach the end more quickly than if they had jumped over everything that came in their way.

El Nechacha, "the exciting." The horse is taught to throw himself upon that of the adversary, and bite either the rider or the animal. The rider pulls up his horse, while he pushes him with his legs, and all the time keeps on repeating the cry of sheït, and success is the more easy because the animal is naturally excitable. The Arabs declare that horses trained in this manner have often unseated an enemy in single combat. Sometimes, too, in razzias, they quicken the pace of the camels that have been captured. I myself have seen a Makhzen horseman thus hurry on animals that had fallen behind. His horse rushed at them and bit at them with apparent pleasure.

Horsemen of renown do not, however, confine the education of their horses to these manœuvres so necessary in battle, but they also teach them to shine at feasts and fantasias by the following accomplishments:

El Entrabe, "the caracol." The horse walks, so to speak, on his hind-legs. Scarcely does he touch the ground with his forefeet, than he again rises. One hand in concert with the legs, soon trains to this exercise a horse of fair intelligence.

El Gueteâa, "the bucking." The horse springs up with all fours off the ground, the horseman at the same time throwing up his gun into the air and cleverly catching it. To obtain this action, the rider marks certain intervals of rest and works with his legs. He gives with the animal as he rises, in order to hold him up when he comes down again. Nothing can be more picturesque than this exercise. The horses quit the earth, the guns fly into the air, and the ample folds of the burnous float and unroll themselves in the wind, thrown back by the vigourous arms of the children of the desert. It is, in truth, the charm and crowning act of the fantasia.

Lastly, El-Berraka, "the kneeling." The rider remaining on his saddle causes his horse to kneel down. This is the nec plus ultra of the man and the animal. Not every horse is fit for this exercise. The colt is trained to it by tickling him on the coronet, pinching him on the legs, and forcing him to bend the knee. After a time the horseman will reap the benefit of these preliminary steps. He need only clear his feet of the stirrups, stretch his legs forward, turn out the points of his toes, touch with his long spurs the animal's fore-arms, and then as his piece is fired at marriage feasts and other rejoicings, his horse will kneel down amid the applause of the young maidens, piercing the air with joyful acclamations.

After the horse is completely "suppled" by all these exercises, the following feats are attempted:

Laâb el Hazame, "the girdle feat." When the horse is thoroughly trained, at a family festivals and religious solemnities, the horseman going at full gallop will pick up a girdle lying on the ground: the most skilful grasping it at three different places.

Laâb Ennichan, "firing at a mark." The target is usually a stone, or a mutton shoulder-blade. The performers start from a distance in order to get a good seat, and when fifty or sixty paces off they discharge their pieces. The Saharene will recall these lessons to mind when out hunting, and going at full speed, he brings down an ostrich or a gazelle. It is not of an inhabitant of the Tell that you must expect these prodigies of address, skilfulness, and equestrian science. Nor will you see on him the light apparel, the fine and beautiful wool of a child of the desert, whom, besides, you will always recognize by his slender, long-bodied horse, the ease with which he handles his gun, and that graceful forward movement by which he quickens his courser's pace. How many are there in the Tell who would ride a whole stage without dropping a piece of money placed between the sole of the foot and the spur?

"And you Christians! you go at a trot. And so do we, but only when time is of no consequence and to breathe our horses. In war time we know nothing but the walk and the gallop. If we are not in a hurry, the trot is enough for us, but if there be danger it is the gallop that saves our heads."

An Arab chief would not keep a horse whose pace was not formed. The above exercises are not adopted by all Arabs. Each selects what is best suited to his position, his fortune, and his tastes. But all conform themselves to the principles we have laid down for the education of the colt. These consist in first of all reducing the young animal to the last degree of wretchedness, in order to handle him gently when between three and four years old. After these trials, his real value is known. These principles are, moreover, summed up in a familiar proverb that shows the amount of interest attached to beginning by times the task of training.

Let the one-year old colt do nothing but eat, And he will not strain himself: Mount him from two to three years old, Until he is quite tamed. Feed him well from three to four. Then mount him again, And if he does not suit you, Sell him without hesitation.

Let it not be supposed, however, that it is only the Arabs of our African possessions who are so mad, if I may be allowed the use of the expression, about commencing the process of breaking-in at an early age. The Arabs universally, no matter to what country they belong, profess the same principles. If proof be wanted, read what has been said on the subject by no inexperienced person, in fact by an inspector-general of the Haras, M. Pétiniaud, who was commissioned by the French Government to travel through Upper Asia to procure horses of pure Oriental blood. He shall speak for himself:—

"After three years of wanderings among the tribes encamped from Diarbekir and Aleppo to the confines of the Nedjed, I returned to Bagdad last January. Among the papers that awaited me, I found a number of the Journal des Haras, containing an article on the horses of the Sahara. The perusal of this only too brief memoir which denoted such a perfect knowledge of the Arab and his horse, inspired me with a desire to possess the entire work. On my arrival in France, you were obliging enough to send me a copy, for which I thank you. No one could take a greater interest than myself in a work which you might safely have entitled: "On the Arab horse of Asia and Africa;" for such is the spirit of tradition among this peculiar people that at every line I recognized in the customs of the Moghreb Arabs the customs of their ancestors of the Koreish and the Nedjed, and that after a separation of many centuries."

"In 1851 I descended the Tigris from Mosul to Bagdad, with a volume of Herodotus in my hand. All his descriptions of men and things were still strictly applicable. Thus, at a distance of two thousand three hundred years he depicted the manners of the Arabs with the same truthfulness with which you, General, have described in Africa the Arabs of Asia. Time and space are impotent in the presence of the unchangeableness of such habits: intestine feuds, the chace, fantasias, love of the horse, etc., etc., I have witnessed in Asia exactly what you have written of Africa."

"Your work which possesses the great merit of telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth, is calculated, as I think, to exercise a great influence on the education of the horse in France. This delightful style of reading will develop an interest in the animal in those who have never before given it a thought, while our breeders will derive some useful hints from the numerous details you relate. They will learn not to reserve their admiration for a horse that has no other merit than that of being fat, and they will at last come to understand the advantages that result from putting a colt to salutary work from his earliest age. "The horse is a labourer"—let him, then, be accustomed to it in good time."

"I observed that the Arabs used universally to fatigue without mercy their two and three-year olds, but spared them from three to four years of age. They say that sustained work at an early age strengthens the chest, muscles, and joints of the colt, at the same time imparting a docility that will remain with him until death. They also declare that as soon as these rude trials have been got over, his constitution should be developed by rest, care, and an abundant diet, because after this new stage of life he will only be able to show himself exactly what he really he is—good or bad. If good, they will keep him: if bad, they will get rid of him without hesitation, for in their eyes a bad horse is not worth the barley they give him."

I trust to be pardoned for this digression for the sake of the reflections which it suggests. Is it not wonderful to behold a people scattered over vast territories, from the Persian Gulph to the Atlantic Ocean, without means of communication, without printing machines, without telegraphs, without any one of the thousand appliances of modern civilization, but still speaking the same language, living in obedience to the same law, and preserving by simple tradition as well as we could do by books, the usages, the manners, and even the precepts of their ancestors? While seeing and interrogating the Arabs of Algeria, I saw and listened to the Arabs of the primitive stock. Is not this oneness, under such circumstances, a matter to create astonishment?

It may happen that after a horse's education is finished, vices will occasionally break out. The Arabs, however, pay little attention to these, because they consider that such faults proceed simply from too long a period of rest which renders them of lazy habits, or subject to caprice through excess of vitality. They correct them by work, the fatigues of war and the chace. The convenient disposition of their saddles enables them to keep their seat in spite of the obstinate "defences" of the animal, they are consequently never taken by surprise, nor frightened, and always end by mastering the animal completely. No one ever thinks of getting rid of his horse because he rears or plunges or is otherwise troublesome. On the contrary they take delight in these proofs of spirit, for the time will come when they will find their advantage in it. The Arabs have a saying that "The horseman who has not known how to train his horse, bestrides death every day."

The individual to whom they attribute the honour of having been the first to tame the horse is Ishmael, the common ancestor of all the Arabs. Their authority is these words of the Deity: "We placed horses under his dominion in order that he might ride them"—and the celebrated invocation of Ishmael himself: "Horses, night, and space are my witnesses, as well as my sabre, my pen, and paper." Always, always, religious tradition.

As to the really bad vices of biting, plunging, and kicking, they are almost unknown. In fact, all their efforts are directed to avert these. They make the horse live close to the tent, and receive him in some degree as an integral part of the family. In the midst of the women, the children, and the slaves, he can hardly fail to acquire habits of gentleness and docility. For the rest, this care shown to the horse is not merely the result of a sense of personal interest on the part of the owner: it takes its origin in religion. The Prophet has said: "The Believer who has trained his horse to shine in the holy war, the sweat, the hair, the very excrement of this animal shall be placed in the balance to his favour at the day of the last judgment."

However, notwithstanding all these bonds which attach man to the horse, notwithstanding the solidarity formed by habit, religion, and interest, no Mussulman will ever give to his horse the name of a man. Men's names have been borne by saints; it would therefore be a deadly sin, a sacrilege, in fact, to apply them to any animal, even though he should be the noblest of all. Besides, names of any kind are given solely to illustrious steeds, and only in the tents of the great. The following are some of their designations:—