For pleasure horsemanship our feeling is one of admiring envy. No men are better able to appreciate the incomparable gallantry and elan of the hunting field, especially in Ireland, the beautiful spectacles afforded by racing, horse shows, and tournaments, the grand pageantry of state functions in European capitals. Even such pretty futilities as Portuguese bull-baiting and the Haut Ecole of France appeal to us as horsemen. As to military horsemanship we have an unbounded admiration for the fine driving of the Royal Horse Artillery, and the obstacle riding of the Mexican Regular Cavalry. On the other hand we are not stricken with awe at the circus tricks of the Cossack, although we may be surprised to see a luggage strap used for girth. Nor are we emulous of the horse-killing man-endurance rides which used to be considered good sport by European cavalry. We can do the little circus tricks ourselves, and make our endurance rides without killing our horses.
Horsemanship
Among ourselves we are more critical. The Mexican ranchero for example wears a revolver on the belt, a sword on the saddle, a silver bridle, a suit of leather beautifully laced with gold or silver, and a most prodigious hat. But do these fine feathers make him a fine bird? Or is the prancing arch-necked horse made sprightly by pinched shoes and a spade bitt?
By contrast the Boer is the most slovenly of horsemen, both in his old slop suit and in his flapping gait, but in scouting and fighting by far the best instructor we ever met, and either as enemy or friend we love his manhood. If horsemanship is an expression of manhood, we do not mind the form if we can get the fact. More manhood goes to the making of one Boer than to a hundred Mexicans.
Searching for the elements distinctive of range horsemanship, as contrasted with the pleasure, the military and the working horsemanship of civilization, a few essential things come clearly into view.
ROUGH RIDING. When a range man is asked if he can ride, as a matter of course he says "No." But if he really wants to come up against the champion outlaw horse of the neighbourhood his denial is not emphatic. Like a professional singer asked for a song, he excuses himself, and pleads to a certain dryness in the throat, but, when the money inducements are sufficient, owns up that he thinks he can ride.
The rough riding of the range is incomparable, but as the broncho buster is usually smashed internally if not killed outright within three years of practice, this worst possible method of breaking a horse is lacking in practical value.
Rough-driving
ROUGH-DRIVING. Our rough-drivers are perhaps the greatest horsemen living, and their feats are the more glorious because there are no spectators to give the stimulus of their applause. A single example may be permitted here:
Constable Harty, of D Division in the Royal North-West Mounted Police, was driving a four-horse team with a waggonette, his passengers being the Earl and Countess of Aberdeen, Viceroy and Vicereine of Canada. Fording one of the fiendish Alberta rivers the near wheeler lay down and drowned herself, while the waggonette, half afloat, was being tilted in danger of capsizal. The teamster swam under and with his knife attempted to cut the dead mare out of harness. Failing in this he climbed up, stood astride with bent knees on the waggon seat, and lifted the team up the river bank to safety while the dead mare dragged under the wheels.