It is at this age also they begin to shackle the colt. The clogs are at first fastened very short, as without that precaution the young animal might lose something of the steadiness of its balance and injure its chest or shoulders either in lying down or getting up again. They ought likewise to be attached loosely so as not to occasion the formation of hard knots. This mode of shackling a horse is decidedly the best. With it one never hears of a horse breaking loose, a misadventure that causes such confusion in a bivouac, drives horsemen to despair, and is the source of a thousand accidents. As the animal is forced to stoop and lean forwards to graze, one would imagine that it could not fail after a while to lose something of its uprightness. The fear is altogether unfounded. The chest expands, the limbs acquire strength. All Barbs stand well upon their legs and are admirably straight along the back and loins. The Arabs are loud in their abuse of our mode of tying up horses with a longe. They affirm that in addition to the vices and accidents it may occasion, it has the great inconvenience of not allowing the animal to lie down. Whereas with clogs a horse protrudes his head and neck and when he wants to sleep places himself exactly in the position of a greyhound basking in the sun. Besides, a great many stable vices disappear when they are used. The animal can neither entangle itself in the halter, nor slip it, nor get into the manger nor lie down beneath it, nor scratch the earth with its foot, nor rub against the manger nor contract any other bad habits of the kind: an indisputable advantage so far.

The colt being thus shackled in front of the tent, a little negro with a switch is placed near him to accustom him to remain still. It is the duty of this young slave to correct him slightly if he attempts to lash out at anything passing behind him, or if he bites at his neighbours. He is watched in this manner until he is brought to the most perfect gentleness. When he is sent to the pasture, the ligatures fasten together a fore and hind foot at the same side, and the cord is purposely made very short. It is observed that when the colt stoops to graze, the shortness of the cord compels the vertebral column to remain straight, and to become rather convex than concave. If, on the contrary, the cord were too long, there would be nothing to support the vertebral column, and it would easily become distorted.

When from twenty-four to twenty seven months old, the colt is for the first time saddled and bridled, but with every precaution. For instance, he is not saddled until quite used to the bridle. For the first few days the bit is covered with undressed wool, partly with a view not to hurt his bars, and partly to allure him to docility by the saltish flavour of which he is so fond. When he begins to champ the bit, the task is nearly accomplished. This preparatory exercise takes place morning and evening. Thus sagaciously handled, the young animal will be ready to be mounted in the early part of the autumn, when he will be less tormented by the flies and heat. Wealthy owners, before they allow their colt to be mounted by a grown-up man, sometimes have him led up and down gently for a fortnight, with a pack-saddle on his back supporting two baskets filled with sand. He thus gradually passes from the weight of the child that first bestrode him to that of the man who is about to mount him.

Suppose the colt now to have completed two years and a half. His vertebral column has acquired strength. The clogs, the saddle and the bridle are familiar to him. A cavalier mounts on his back. The animal is certainly very young, but he will be ridden only at a walking pace, and his bit will be a very easy one. The main point is to accustom him to obedience. The owner without spurs and holding only a light cane in his hand which he uses as little as possible, rides him to the market, or to visit his friends, his flocks and pastures, and attends to his affairs without exacting anything more than submission and docility. This he ordinarily obtains by never speaking to him except in a low voice, without passion, and carefully avoiding anything likely to elicit opposition that must result in a contest from which he might come forth conqueror, but at the expense of his horse. Particular importance is attached to keeping the young animal still and quiet for a few minutes before letting him start. At a later period, his owner will not fail to reap the benefit of this excellent practice.

The common people sometimes mount their colts before they are two years and a half old, and if reproached for doing so, they answer: "You are quite right; we know that, but how can it be helped? We are poor, and have no choice but to act in this manner or go on foot. We prefer the former alternative, notwithstanding its disadvantages. In the perilous life we lead, the present moment is everything."

Seeing the Arabs employ their colts so early, mounting the two-year olds and exacting from them considerable fatigue, and forced marches, and using them even as pack-horses without regard to their age or strength, many persons have concluded that this people knew nothing about the proper mode of managing horses, and have even denied that they had any love for the animal. Such persons, however, cannot have taken into account that sometimes to save their families, sometimes their property, and frequently to obey the summons of the holy war (djehad) these Arabs are obliged to use whatever materials come to hand. They are compelled to employ their horses through the necessities that beset them, and through circumstances quite beyond their control, but they are perfectly aware that it would be better not to do so.

It is also when he is about thirty months old that the colt is taught not to break loose from his rider when the latter sets foot to earth, and not even to stir from the spot where the bridle has been passed over his head and allowed to drag on the ground. Especial care is taken in teaching this lesson, because it is one of great importance in Arab life. The same means is adopted in this case, as in accustoming the colt to the clogs. A slave stands beside him, who puts his foot on the bridle whenever the animal is about to go off, and thus gives a disagreeable shock to the bars of his mouth. After a few days of this exercise he will stand stock still at the spot where he has been left, and will wait for his master for days together. This practise is so universal throughout the Sahara that the first thing an Arab does after killing his adversary, if he wants his horse, is to pass the bridle quickly over his head. The animal then remains perfectly still and allows the conqueror time to despoil his fallen foe: without this precaution it would have rejoined its goum.

Here is a scene we have all witnessed. An Arab arrives at the market, and dismounts in the midst of a score of horses or mares. You suppose that he is going to give his animal to some one to hold. Not so: he passes the bridle over his neck, lets it fall on the ground, and placing a stone upon it goes without disquietude to transact his business. Two hours afterwards he returns, finds that his horse has not moved from the spot where he left him—and to which he probably fancied himself fastened—gets on the saddle and returns to his own people.

From the age of two and a half to three years the system already indicated continues to be applied with a view to confirm the young animal in the docile habits so essential in war time. Pains too are taken to make him very quiet to mount, by using every precaution. In his life of perilous adventure the Arab has need, before all things, of a horse easy to mount. Lessons to this effect will be renewed day after day until they are no longer necessary: but not too long at a time for fear of tiring out the colt. At first the owner will be assisted by two men, one of whom will hold the bridle and the other the stirrup, and after a while he will succeed in producing a statue-like immobility. Sick and ill-shaped horses, say the Arabs, alone prove unteachable.

From three to four years old more is expected from a horse, but at the same time he is better fed. He is now ridden with spurs and, being thoroughly grounded in the foregoing lessons, he gives proof of mettle and learns to fear nothing. The cries of the animals living in the same douar, the roaring of the wild beasts that prowl around during the night, and the constant discharge of fire-arms, soon prepare him for war.