This latter gentleman has been hunting this kind of a contract, in behalf of How-lish-wam-po, for several months, unsuccessfully.
The Umatilla Indians rear horses by the thousands, never feeding or stabling, but always herding them, when the owner has enough to justify the expense of hiring an Indian herder. The horses run in bands of fifty to one hundred, and seldom mix to any considerable extent. If however, there should be several bands corralled together, the master-horse of each band soon separates them. When turned out on the plains they are very exacting, and many a battle is fought by these long-maned captains, in defence, or to prevent the capture, by the others, of some one of their own.
Cayuse horses are small, from twelve to fifteen hands high; are of every shade of color, and many of them white or spotted, bald-faced, white-legged and glass-eyed. They are spirited, though easily
broken to the saddle or harness. As saddle-horses they are far superior to the common American horse, and for speed and power of endurance they have no equals.
The Indians are accurate judges of the value of their animals and have strong attachments for them; seldom disposing of a favorite except in case of real necessity.
The small scurvy ponies are sold in large numbers, for prices ranging from five to twenty dollars each. A medium-sized saddle-horse sells for about forty dollars; a first-rate horse, one hundred dollars; and if a well-tried animal that can make one hundred miles one day, and repeat it the next, one hundred and fifty dollars.
The small, low-priced ponies are capable of carrying a common man all day long, without spur or whip. They are bought by white men for children’s use, and for ladies’ palfreys. They are docile, tractable, and fond of being petted. I know a small white pony, with long mane, and not more than forty inches in height, that was taught many tricks,—going through the hotel dining-room, kitchen, and parlor; sometimes following his little mistress upstairs; lying down and playing dead horse, kneeling for prayers, asking for sugar, by signs; in fact,—a fine pet. And yet the little fellow would canter off mile after mile with his mistress.
Major Barnhart, of Umatilla, owned a small Cayuse, about thirteen hands high, that would gallop to the Columbia river, thirty-one miles, in two hours, with a man on his back, and come back again at the same gait.
I once made an investment of five dollars in an unbroken pony, paid an Indian one dollar to ride her a
few minutes, took her home and gave her to a little daughter, who named her “Cinderella.” After a few days’ petting, she often mounted and rode her fearlessly.