THE ARAB AND HIS HORSE
Would you not like to hear some more about the Arabian horse, the noblest and best of his race? I have told how all our best racers are of Arab stock and how dearly the Arab loves his horse. A child of the desert, often having to go long and far without food and under a blazing sun, the horse becomes very hardy.
It may be tied by all four legs to stakes set in the ground and kept there for many hours, the sun burning hot, yet if now its legs are set free and its master springs upon its back it is as full of life and spirit and as eager for a wild ride as if it had been taken fresh from the stable.
The comrade of its master by day and night, his support and comfort, ready to go without food or drink in his service, the horse and its rider grow more like two lovers than like master and servant. The poverty of the Arab may at times force him to sell his horse, but it is like selling a part of himself.
"My eyes! my soul! my heart!" he will say, "must I be forced to give thee a new master, and not keep thee myself? I am poor, my antelope; I brought thee up in my dwelling as a child; I did never beat or chide thee."
Then he will embrace the noble animal, wipe its eyes with his handkerchief, rub its glossy skin with his sleeve and remain long talking to it as if he was parting with his dearest child.
The Famous Arab Steeds and Desert Riders
"When I was at Jerusalem," says Chateaubriand, "the feats of one of those steeds made a great noise. The Bedouin to whom the animal, a mare, belonged, being pursued by the governor's guards, rushed with him from the top of the hills that overlooked Jericho. The mare scoured at full gallop down an almost perpendicular declivity without stumbling and left the soldiers lost in admiration and astonishment. The poor creature, however, dropped down dead on entering Jericho, and the Bedouin, who would not quit her, was taken, weeping over the body of his faithful companion. Ali Aga showed me, in the mountains near Jericho, the footsteps of the mare that died in the attempt to save her master."
Here is one more story of the Arabian horse. "When the envoy," says Sir John Malcolm, "was encamped near Bagdad, an Arab rode a bright bay mare, of extraordinary shape and beauty, before his tent until he attracted his attention. On being asked if he would sell her—
"'What will you give me,' was the reply.
"'That depends upon her age; I suppose she is past five.'
"'Guess again,' said he.
"'Four?'
"'Look at her mouth!'
"On examination she was found to be rising three. This, from her size and fine shape, added much to her value.
"'I will give you fifty tomans,' said the envoy. (The toman is worth about five dollars.)
"'A little more—if you please.'
"'Eighty—a hundred.'
"He shook his head and smiled. The officer at last came to two hundred tomans.
"'Well,' said the Arab, 'you need not tempt me farther. You are a rich elchee (nobleman); you have fine horses, camels, and mules, and I am told you have loads of silver and gold. Now,' he added, 'you want my mare, but you shall not have her for all you have got.'"