Illustrative Anecdotes of the Animal Kingdom

by Samuel G. Goodrich

A cart-horse belonging to a Mr. Leggat, of Glasgow had been several times afflicted with the bots, and as often cured by a farrier by the name of Dawine. He had not, however, been troubled with that disease for a considerable time; but on a recurrence of the disorder, he happened, one morning, to be employed nearly a mile from the farrier's house. He was arranged in a row with other horses engaged in the same work, and, while the carters were absent, he went, unattended by any driver, through several streets, and up a narrow lane, when he stopped at the farrier's door. As neither Mr. Leggat nor any one else appeared with the horse, it was surmised that he had been seized with his old complaint. Being unyoked from the cart, he lay down, and showed, by every means of which he was capable, that he was in distress. He was treated as usual, and sent home to Mr. Leggat, who had by that time sent persons in all directions in search of him.

A curious instance of instinct occurred at Bristol, England, some years ago, which proves the great local memory possessed by horses. A person, apparently a townsman, recognized a horse, bestrode by a countryman, to be one which he had lost about nine months before. He seized his property, and put in his claim: "This is my horse. I will prove it in two minutes, or quit my claim." He then set the horse free, and declared his proof to be that the horse would be found at his stables, at some distance—a fact that was attested, in a few minutes, by the two claimants, and several bystanders, repairing to the stables, where they found the horse "quite at home."

The celebrated Polish General Kosciusko once wished to send some bottles of good wine to a clergyman at Solothurn; and, as he hesitated to send them by his servant, lest he should smuggle a part, he gave the commission to a young man of the name of Zeltner, and desired him to take the horse he usually rode. Young Zeltner, on returning, said that he would never ride his horse again without he gave him his purse at the same time. Kosciusko asking him what he meant, he answered, "As soon as a poor man on the road takes off his hat, and asks for charity, the horse immediately stands still, and will not stir till something is given to the petitioner; and as I had no money about me, I was obliged to make a motion as if I had given something, in order to satisfy the horse." A higher eulogy could hardly be pronounced upon the owner of the horse.

The wild horses of the western country are thus described by Mr. Catlin: "There is no other animal on the prairies so wild and sagacious as the horse, and none so difficult to come up with. So remarkably keen is their eye, that they will generally run 'at sight' a mile distant; and, when once in motion, they seldom stop short of three or four miles. I made many attempts to approach them by stealth, when they were grazing, and playing their gambols, without succeeding more than once. In this instance I left my horse, and skulked through a ravine for a couple of miles, until I was within gunshot of a fine herd of them. These were of all colors—some milk-white, some jet-black; others were sorrel, and bay, and cream color; and many were of an iron-gray. Their manes were profuse, and hanging in the wildest confusion over their faces and necks, while their long tails swept the ground."

The Camanches and other tribes of Indians capture great numbers of wild horses. The process is described by Catlin as follows: "The Indian, when he starts for a wild horse, mounts one of the fleetest he can get, and, coiling his lasso under his arm, which consists of a thong of cowhide ten or fifteen yards long, with a noose at the end of it, he starts under 'full whip' till he can enter the drove, when he soon gets the noose over the neck of one of them. He then dismounts, leaving his own horse, and runs as fast as he can, letting the lasso pass out gradually and carefully through his hands, until the horse falls for want of breath, and lies helpless on the ground. The Indian then advances slowly towards his head, keeping the lasso tight upon his neck, until he fastens a pair of hobbles on his two fore feet, and also loosens the lasso, and moves it round the under jaws; by which he gets great power over the affrighted animal, which is constantly rearing and plunging. He then advances, hand over hand, towards the horse's nose, and places one hand over his eyes; he then breathes in his nostrils, when he soon becomes conquered and docile, and allows himself to be led or ridden to the camp."

It appears that horses are subject to a kind of panic, which in the western prairies is called stampede. The instances of this frenzy, as described by travellers, sometimes present the most terrific spectacles. Mr. Kendall, in his "Narrative," gives us the following lively sketch:—

"As there was no wood about our camping-ground, some half a dozen men pushed on in search of it. One of them had a wild, half-broken Mexican horse, naturally vicious, and with difficulty mastered. His rider found a small, dry tree, cut it down with a hatchet, and very imprudently made it fast to his horse's tail by means of a rope. The animal took it unkindly from the first, and dragged his strange load with evident symptoms of fright; but when within a few hundred yards of the camp, he commenced pitching, and finally set off into a gallop, with the cause of all his uneasiness and fear still fast to his tail. His course was directly for the camp; and, as he sped along the prairie, it was evident that our horses were stricken with a panic at his approach. At first they would prick up their ears, snort, and trot majestically about in circles; then they would dash off at the top of their speed, and no human power could arrest their mad career.

"'A stampede!' shouted some of the old campaigners,—a stampede! Look out for your horses, or you'll never see them again,' was heard on every side. Fortunately for us, the more intractable horses had been not only staked, but hobbled, before the panic became general, and were secured with little difficulty; else we might have lost half of them. Frequent instances have occurred where a worthless horse has occasioned the loss of hundreds of valuable animals.

"Nothing can exceed the grandeur of the scene when a large cavallada, or drove of horses, takes a 'scare.' Old, weather-beaten, time-worn, and broken-down steeds—horses that have nearly given out from hard work and old age—will at once be transformed into wild and prancing colts. With heads erect, tails and manes streaming in the air, eyes lit up, and darting beams of fright,—old and jaded hacks will be seen prancing and careering about with all the buoyancy which characterizes the action of young colts. Then some one of the drove, more frightened than the rest, will dash off in a straight line, the rest scampering after him, and apparently gaining fresh fear at every jump. The throng will then sweep along the plain with a noise which may be likened to something between a tornado and an earthquake; and as well might feeble man attempt to arrest the earthquake as the stampede."

THE PONY.