IN TRAINING
When a carriage horse carries his head too low for good form, an English head-groom fits him with a dumb-jockey, on which is an iron standard with a movable hook. To this hook a bridle is fastened at the desired height and left for half an hour at a time,—seldom for longer and not often more than twice a day, usually only once, because the groom knows that nothing is so bad for a horse's temper as this kind of confinement. Sometimes the bridle is fitted with india-rubber pieces, which stretch and allow a little play, but this contrivance seems likely to teach boring. Some grooms tie a wisp of hay round the bit, with intent to keep the mouth occupied, so that the beast does not sulkily hang in his bit all the time and spoil his mouth. At its best, however, there is not much to be said in favour of the plan, for if a horse's head is not meant by nature to be carried handsomely, no amount of training will teach him. But the lesson lasts for a very brief period of time, nor is it physically more severe than that undergone by recruits in a drill-yard. Moreover, the head is tied up and not down. Another kind of dumb-jockey is used in England as the horse's first lesson in bit and bridle. But its use is intermittent, and when compared with the Indian practice, it allows comparatively free play to the head. The bearing-rein still holds its own and is warmly supported against common sense by the pedants of the English stable, but at its worst it is a tender mercy when compared with the Indian practice of tying the poor brute's head tightly back and down for weeks at a time until a monstrous exaggeration of the natural curve of the neck is produced. A diagram shows how this is done. A poor brute thus treated for the greater part of his life has naturally a heavy grudge against all mankind. So good temper is the last thing to expect from the horse of an Indian person of quality. The physical effects of the practice are no less deplorable. The neck of the horse, a wonderful piece of construction, plays a most important part in all his movements. It is one of the first parts to show fatigue, seeing that like a pendulum it balances every movement. The gait of an animal with a crippled neck becomes mincing and constrained. But it is precisely this rickety, rocking, all-of-a-piece action that most pleases the Oriental, since it is supposed to resemble the dainty stepping and wanton prancing in which young horses indulge at times. A sort of high-stepping caper is taught; the chābūk sowār (whip-rider) or breaker, holding, in addition to the bridle, cords tied to the fore fetlocks, with which he gives a jerk, crying Ho! This brings the foot up with a flourish and, one would think, should occasionally bring the horse on his nose.
Some people say high-stepping is taught to horses in England by making them tread on hot iron plates, or among logs of timber, or in soft fallows, or in a very deep layer of straw. But if I wanted to believe in things of this kind, I should prefer the theory of a rustic at a funeral, watching a pair of Flemish blacks throwing their fore-legs about. "I hev heard tell as they teaches 'osses this by practysin' 'em 'over wheel-barrows.'" Now, a mere man tumbling over a wheel-barrow is in for a most complex catastrophe, but the idea of horses waltzing round a yard full of wheel-barrows is purely fascinating. The truth is that though "dodges" may be practised at times, the really skilful trainer would be almost as much puzzled to describe his practice as a skilful painter to describe the way he painted his picture.
"It's incommunicable, like the cast
That drops the tackle with the gut adry,
Too much, too little,—there's your salmon lost."
Elaborately-ordered curvetings, side movements like those of Western riding-schools, and progress by slow springs or bounds, are also practised. From old pictures it is evident that the last was an admired action of the European manège. A good American or English circus trainer; who, as their phrase runs, can make a horse canter round a cabbage leaf; teaches it in less time and by simpler methods than in the old days, and without the infliction of pain and bondage. The Central Indian idea is that the rider should appear to sit at ease, languidly controlling the movements of a restive steed. In reality every action is as measured as the swing of a wooden rocking-horse, while a touch of the bit suffices to check any tendency to genuine spirit.
The "thorn bits" here engraved are ordinary specimens of those in use; the cut requires careful examination before their murderous character can be made out. Some say the Indian bit is severe because the average horseman, being of slight build, is physically incapable of holding a horse with a fair one. There may be something in this, but the weakness is more moral than physical; nerve is more wanting than muscle, and reason most of all. The whole process of bringing up and handling is faulty, depending on harsh constraint and developing bad form, bad temper, and bad manners. There are of course many fine horsemen in the country, but they have usually been taught by Englishmen, for by means of the turf, the army, and the equestrian civilian, English horse notions have been widely spread. It is no libel to say that the average native horseman is timid, and no timid rider can afford to be merciful. A Bengali saying counselling caution expresses this and gives a picture in a line to those who are familiar with the least equestrian race in the world. "Having taken a firm hold on all sides, then mount the horse." Perhaps it is unfair to see in this sagacious counsel the courage of a Bengali rider desperately screwed up to the sticking place, the convulsive grip, the struggling climb, and the apprehensive face as if the placid pony were some wild hippogriff.
INDIAN "THORN BITS"
Possibly, also, it is unkind to see in the adoption of ambling or pacing another index to the unequestrian character of India. For in America, where they want no teaching about horses, ambling is a regularly ordained gait. It is taught in India, as formerly in Europe, by tying together the fore and hind legs on each side, but this is not always necessary, for the pace comes naturally to many animals. There are who ride and there are who sit on a horse and are carried. In a hot climate, where for months the aim of life is to exist with as little motion as possible, since heat is a mode of motion, and you are already many degrees hotter than you like, it is natural that equestrian India should prefer to sit on a horse. Ambling is the easiest way of doing this. You shall see at a cold weather fête, or public function, a burly native Inspector of police bumping vigorously in his saddle, charging round like a General's galloper on a field day, so that the British tourist admiringly remarks, "Smart officer, that!" But see that same Inspector in the hot weather, faring to a village away from his District Superintendent's observation. His legs dangle carelessly, his body, languidly thrown back, has just as much movement as a jelly on a footman's tray, while a constable on each side supports him as they run alongside his lazily ambling charger. When he halts, they reverently lift him down, and placing him on a bed under a village tree or in a verandah, undress and shampoo him tenderly while another prepares his hūqqa, and the village Elders stand before him with joined hands to learn his Lordship's commands about dinner. The sun is in fact master of the situation, and his dictates are obeyed in riding as in other matters.
When a native chief goes out, he is accompanied by a sowāri, literally a "riding" of ministers, servants, guards, and attendants of all sorts. Formerly all rode, but with good roads good carriages have been introduced, and usually in these days only the horsemen of the guard ride. But on state occasions, led horses, richly caparisoned, always form part of the show, and there are many animals in princely stables kept solely for processional purposes. The animals most liked are the stallions of Marwar or Kathiawar. White horses with pink points, piebalds, and leopard spotted beasts are much admired, especially when they have pink Roman noses and light-coloured eyes with an uncanny expression. Their crippled, highly arched necks, curby hocks, rocking gait, and paralytic prancing often proclaim them as triumphs of training.