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?[[39]]
"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,