Touchstone boasts of twelve Musket sires to his credit, twelve Hamptons, and but a single Hermit. To-day there is not a single representative of the house of Herod in the first hundred on the roll. But Matchem, by the aid of that grand horse, Barcaldine, is represented by six living sires. This brief summary tells us exactly how the barometer is behaving. In Australia Eclipse is paramount, and that for the most part through the influence of Blacklock. Musket, who did such wonders for our breed forty years ago, is sick, almost to Doomsday with Eclipse. Hermit, as a male influence, is dead. Barcaldine is moribund, and it is perfectly evident that before another twenty years have passed, on the male side of the house, at least, it will be Eclipse first and the rest nowhere. Within the last ten years there have been, in the Old Country, symptoms of a revival of the blood of Herod through Roi Herode, and his speedy grey son, The Tetrarch. For the moment, the courses are flooded with them, and every field is flashing with greys. It seemed, for a lustrum, that Herod and Tartar were once more destined to become a vital force, but the zenith was reached ere many days. Even now this Herod star, or comet, which appeared in the heavens and rushed onwards as though determined to carry everything in front of it, has been observed to change its direction, and it is rapidly speeding away from the sun on its outward course. We in Australia have followed the fashion, and Herod, with Menin, Chrysolaus and Sarchedon, will enjoy popularity and a considerable measure of success, but the march of events here will certainly follow those in the old world, and the grey blood will, in a little time, weaken and fade away.
Eclipse must eventually reign absolute. Yet these importations of other families are immensely valuable. We must have out crosses for our perpetual blood of Eclipse, and the Barcaldines, the Roi Herodes, and The Tetrarchs are inestimable for such a purpose. And the greater their success in the early days of their stud life here, the better for the ultimate good of our thoroughbred horse.
Chapter XI.
How to Breed an Australian Horse.
It is a well-known fact all the world over that every country must, perforce, keep on renewing its blood stock supply from the British Isles, but we in Australia have, to quote a modern expressive piece of slang, “gone over the odds” altogether. We are breeding, as we have seen in the previous chapter, scarcely any sires at all. This, somehow seems to be wrong. Australia contains magnificent country, and portions of it are blessed with a climate which is ideal for the purpose of breeding and rearing horseflesh. The conditions which we possess here, and which I designate as ideal are the following: We have still land procurable at not too extravagant a price. We can obtain it in comparatively large areas. The soil is suitable, in many localities, for the purpose. The climate is excellent. With these advantages at our doors, there are three methods of raising racehorses. The first is, whilst using very large areas of country, to leave everything to Nature. Reverse Cato’s maxim, “Laudito ingentia rura. Exiguum colito” (“Praise up big areas. Use small ones”). Whilst pursuing this method, the horse owner must make up his mind that he is unlikely to win two-year-old races, and therefore he must have no intention of breeding horses for the annual yearling sales. What he rears must be for his own use, and he must be exceedingly patient. I do not know anyone who follows the business on these lines, but the man who could afford to wait, and was willing to wait, would probably find himself, in a few years, the owner of several weight-for-age, sound-limbed, sound-jointed, clear-winded racers.
The second plan is to have a run of only a limited acreage, and to force the youngsters from the moment they are dropped.
And the third method is a combination of the two. To follow ideal lines, I think the following points are essential to insure the greatest amount of success which it is possible for sinful man to attain:—
Firstly: A sufficient area of suitable land. The locality is immaterial provided that there is an abundance of feed in favourable seasons, and plenty of limestone in the soil. I should have no enclosure, apart from yards, under a hundred acres, and the fencing, which is an expensive item these days, must be of post and rails. The contour of the ground should vary, and the soil must not be too rich. Hill and dale, upland and meadow, river flats, an occasional swamp, are each of them desirable commodities in the way of land, to be made use of in due season. The feet of the youngsters are fashioned by the country they run on. One of the most knowledgeable of all Australian trainers, a breeder himself, Mr. Joe Burton, it was who first impressed this fact upon my mind. Some readers may remember what a number of Gozo horses suffered from bad feet. “They are not Gozo feet,” Mr. Burton used to tell me; “they are Tucka Tucka feet.” I believe he was perfectly right.
Horses require frequent change. After a while they may be doing badly in a paddock showing a rare sward of grass, but will suddenly make gigantic strides in growth and welfare when shifted to a worse pasture. They do not appreciate rough, coarse, over-grown grasses. Therefore, bullocks must be used to keep the exuberance of a bountiful nature in rigid check. Their pasturage must be kept clean from the soiling of their own droppings. Chain and brush harrows break this up well, and scatter it over the soil, but unrotted horse manure puts very little back to the earth that has been taken out, and to seek the pitch of perfection the droppings should all be raked together and carted away to a receptacle where it can rot and be used for the garden or the cultivated fields.
Sheep and horses are like oil and water. They will not mix. You may run your mobs with sheep even amidst abundance, and yet they will be poverty stricken, covered with lice and ticks, unwholesome, and never “growthy.” So much shortly, then, for the land.
Secondly, Shelter: In the Old Country, where housing must be resorted to for a very great portion of the year, this is really not so important as in Australia. “The cold winds of winter blow mournfully here,” as the song says, and these are searching beyond belief in Australia. Every paddock must have efficient shelters. Plantations, close-growing hedges, clumps of native pines, groups of box or gum trees, are essentials for the well-being of all horses. The hedges and pines make excellent wind breaks, but shade from the sun in summer is equally a necessity. I like open sheds, thickly thatched, no corrugated iron, please, fairly high in the roof, and far removed from trees. Horses cannot stand the noise of wind-swung boughs on roofing. They, as a rule, believe in ghosts. The flies are a terrible infliction in the spring and early summer. I should like to house my young ones, during the worst months, in dark, but sweet, stables throughout the long, scorching summer days, and turn them out in the paddocks during the grateful coolness of the nights.