Beast and Man in India Part 8

[Ill.u.s.tration: WAITING FOR THE WAZIR]

India has been described by a European as the Paradise of horses, and from his point of view the phrase is not unfitting. The natural affinity between horses and Englishmen becomes a closer bond by residence in India, where everybody rides--or ought to ride--where horses and horse-keep are cheap, and where large castes of stable servants, contented with a low wage, are capable under careful superintendence of keeping their animals in a state of luxurious comfort. The horses, however, which serve native masters are born to Purgatory rather than to Paradise. Those in the hands of the upper cla.s.ses suffer from antiquated and barbarous systems of treatment, and are often killed by mistaken kindness or crippled by bad training, while those of low degree are liable to cruel ill-usage, over-work, neglect, and unrelieved bondage.

I have not always thought it worthwhile in previous notes to dwell on the frequent appearance of notions on animals once current in Europe. But in the matter of the horse, there is no escape from this suggestive subject.

The Oriental conception of a horse may be gathered from pictures and current sayings as well as from an inspection of princely stables. In many respects it recalls that of our forefathers before the introduction of Arab blood into Europe and the systematic cultivation of speed. No Eastern horse has anything like the substance of the "grete horse," "the gambaldyne horse," or "the grete doble trottynge hors called a curtal" of old England,--but that kind of animal is plainly the ideal in the Oriental mind. Its artificial paces, air-fighting att.i.tudes, and slow rate of speed are still the model of the high-cla.s.s Indian trainer when left to himself.

This ideal is somewhat contrary to nature, for the climate is not favourable to the pig-like roundness of form shown in all modern Indian pictures as in European representations of a bygone time. For the animals that take their chance with the poor are always light in form and often of spectral slenderness. But by rigorous confinement and careful stuffing with rich food even this condition is approached. Many horses belonging to persons of rank are fattened like fowls in France, by the grooms thrusting b.a.l.l.s of food mixed with ghi, boiled goats' brains, and other rich messes down their throats. And, as might be expected, very many die of diseases of the digestion and liver under the process. The difference between East and West, between old and new, between feudal and free conditions, is shown in few things more clearly than in a comparison of the horse of the Indian Raja with the scientifically treated animal of Europe and America. The latter is carefully fed during the all-important period of its growth, so that its strength and substance are fully developed, while it is made to take regular exercise. Year by year, too, a humane appreciation of its natural timidity leads to a more considerate and merciful training, which is accomplished without cruel constraint, harsh confinement, violence, or nervous shock.

The horse of the Indian n.o.ble, on the other hand, is imperfectly nourished in its early youth. Not always in the West will an ordinary farmer understand the requirements of a young horse after weaning, but in India it seems impossible to persuade people that money spent on a growing beast is money invested. All they see is a present loss. Then it is tied up during the greater part of its life, not merely secured by the head but tethered by heel-ropes. No innovation has been more obstinately fought against by native servants of English masters than the loose box, for Orientals have a pa.s.sion for tying things up. A group of young horses in a pasture, free to exult in their strength, is a sight not seen in India, with a few exceptions to be presently noted. If you watch such a group and note their G.o.d-given delight in motion and freedom, the birthright and wild desire of all young things, you must admit that this is a custom of cruelty. But the pedantry of horse-folk, everywhere inclined to stupidity, is inflexible in India.

Some of the foregoing may appear incredible to Western readers. I quote from the _India in 1887_ of Mr. R. Wallace, Professor of Agriculture and Rural Economy in the University of Edinburgh,--a witness who writes from first-hand observation, and who, throughout his book, is inclined to the not unreasonable contention that a native custom is _prima facie_ likely to be right:--

"The pampering and over-feeding of favourite animals in the stables of wealthy native princes cannot be too strongly condemned and reprobated, as cruel to the beasts themselves and injurious to the best interests of the country. I spent some hours in one stable where over one hundred of the finest horses--Arabs, Barbs, Marwars, and Kathiawars--that India could produce were tied up and actually fed as fat as pigs. Horses that had cost Rs.18,000 and Rs.20,000 were kept in close boxes with most imperfect ventilation, and were taken out only for show at rare intervals, and not at all for regular exercise. In addition to ordinary food, they got mixed with it 2 lbs. of sugar and from 1 to 2 lbs. of ghi daily. The first result of this feeding would be a rapidly thriving condition, accompanied with a sleek and glossy coat and an increase of fat; but the ultimate and most natural consequence proved to be the gradual breaking down of the system in each case at its weakest point through over-pressure. This accounted for the variety of diseases that appeared and developed and were running their course at the time referred to--_e.g._ broken wind, founder (_laminitis_), weed (_lymphangitis_), skin eruptions or diseases, and fatty degenerations of the liver. All these, I noticed, were present, and no doubt there were others besides.

"I was informed that a considerable number died annually of an unknown disease, and I was able to satisfy myself by examining what existed of it at the moment, and from the accounts of the two native veterinary attendants, that this unknown and fatal malady was fatty degeneration of the liver, which seemed to carry off most of those horses that escaped the other more rapid and better-known forms of disease.

"The injury to the community lies in this, that the best horses of the best breeds in the country are picked up--even those bred by government sires--and brought to these stables; and if an animal finds favour in the eyes of the Prince or Sahib, it is supplied with the food of the favourites already described, and whether it is a male or female it soon becomes barren; consequently, the best horses are withdrawn from breeding, and the artificial selection of man is made to act in the wrong direction--the race being reproduced from the poorer specimens.

"I saw a horse suffering from a disease said to be produced by excess of moisture. It took the form of large blotches or swollen raw sores, which may occur on any part of the body, but most abundantly about the legs.... There is an extraordinary confusion in the minds of natives of the lower orders, such as grooms, in their ideas of kindness and cruelty to the lower animals. While some were being literally killed by over-feeding and care, I found the one suffering from this loathsome disease tied out in the open, and exposed without shelter to the sun or rain, as the case might be, and to the constant and irritating action of flies which swarmed about and lived on the skinless parts.

Although the disease was well developed, no effort had been made to treat it in any way. The animal was suffering severely, but my drawing attention to the fact was received with the greatest astonishment and indifference."

With reference to the last case quoted by Mr. Wallace, a native groom would say that _barsati_, which seems to be the disease indicated, is incurable and contagious. So the animal must be kept apart from the rest, but it may not be killed--and--"he is only a poor man and what can be done?" But in reality, it has never occurred to him to think that creatures can suffer.

The distinctively native methods of training, which are corruptions of the manege formerly popular in Europe, involve unnecessary cruelty. It is true that even in England, which is, relatively speaking, the true horse paradise, carriage horses are still made to learn certain artificial tricks, relics of unwise old fashions, indefensible because interferences with nature. To teach the outstretched, flying-b.u.t.tress att.i.tude which is considered good form, the animal is set to stand and the inside of the fore legs is tapped with a whip till he covers the proper extent of ground. The French take more pains to exaggerate this position than the English, but during the season in the Park you may often see an English coachman, on pulling up, fidget with reins and whip till his animals are outstretched like wooden rocking-horses. This is considered quite beautiful, but it is the worst possible att.i.tude for a horse to move forward from, since it may cause strain in back or loins. But it is only done while the animal is at work. In India the poor brute is tied tightly in this posture and left for many hours together without possibility of relief.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 _chabuk_ _sowar_ (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 manege. 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 hors.e.m.e.n 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 fete, or public function, a burly native Inspector of police b.u.mping 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 huqqa, 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 _sowari_, 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 hors.e.m.e.n 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A PROCESSIONAL HORSE]

The pa.s.sion for bright colour is strikingly evident in these parades, where silk and gold are lavishly spread, and the manes and tails and sometimes the bodies of the animals are dyed magenta, scarlet, or orange. Gold or silver bangles are clasped round the fetlocks or above the knee, where they are hung with silk cloths or streamers. No matter how long the _tamasha_ may last, the animal's head is always pulled tightly back and down with bridle and silken martingale, and one longs with such an exceeding great longing to cut them and set the head free that it is hard to be respectful to the bravery of the show. You feel that as a relic of the externals of the brave days of old (which must have been mainly bad old days) it deserves some respect. Yet no writer who has seen the display from near, and writes honestly, can refrain from noting its seamy side. The late Mr. Aberigh Mackay (Ali Baba of _Vanity Fair_), one of the brightest and most original, as well as one of the most generous spirits who ever handled Indian subjects, has drawn a picture in his _Twenty-one Days in India_, of a Raja and his Sowari which could not be bettered by a hair's breadth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A RAJA'S CHARGER (MARWAR BREED)]

"In the cool of the evening our king emerges from his palace, and, riding on a prodigiously fat white horse with pink points, proceeds to the place of carousal. A long train of hors.e.m.e.n follow him, and footmen run before with guns in red flannel covers and silver maces, shouting 'Raja Maharaja Salaamat,' etc. The hors.e.m.e.n immediately around him are mounted on well-fed and richly caparisoned steeds, with all the bravery of cloth of gold, yaktails, silver chains, and strings of sh.e.l.ls; behind are troopers in a burlesque of English uniform; and altogether in the rear is a mob of caitiffs on skeleton chargers, masquerading in every degree of shabbiness and rags, down to nakedness and a sword. The cavalcade pa.s.ses through the city. The inhabitants pour out of every door and bend to the ground. Red cloths and white veils flutter at the cas.e.m.e.nts overhead. You would hardly think that the spectacle was one daily enjoyed by the city.

There is all the hurrying and eagerness of novelty and curiosity. Here and there a little shy crowd of women gather at a door and salute the Chief with a loud, shrill verse of discordant song. It is some national song of the Chief's ancestors and of the old heroic days. The place of carousal is a bare spot near a large and ancient well out of which grows a vast pipal tree. Hard by is a little temple surmounted by a red flag on a drooping bamboo. It is here that the _Gangor_ and _Dasehra_ Solemnities are celebrated.

Arrived on the ground, the Raja slowly circles his horse; then, jerking the thorn-bit, causes him to advance plunging and rearing, but dropping first on the near foot and then on the off foot with admirable precision; and finally, making the white monster, now in a lather of sweat, rise up and walk a few steps on his hind legs, the Raja's performance concludes amid many shouts of wonder and delight from the smooth-tongued courtiers. The thakores (barons) and sardars (squires) now exhibit their skill in the _manege_ until the shades of night fall, when torches are brought, amid much salaaming, and the cavalcade defiles through the city, back to the palace."

Is it any wonder that Sir John Malcolm, who had seen so much of this kind of life and could describe it with humour and spirit, was a congenial companion to the good Sir Walter? For it belongs to another world, and another time. Yet, when one knows all about the poor horse and the cruel bit it seems but a dull parody of ancient chivalry.

The ideas current on the qualities, form, and vices of the animal are as antiquated as its treatment. Many are tied up in aphoristic bundles for better preservation. So many parts of the horse should be round, so many square, so many short, and so many long, and everybody speaks of the five vices and of the eight lucky white points of Mangal--Mars. There is an elaborate science of stray hairs with an obstinate twist, of the colour of the markings and the planting of the hair in the skin. The last is a curious, and nowadays but little known subject in England. If you paint a well-groomed, well-conditioned horse in a strong light, you find that the shimmer and reflections of his coat take forms like those in moire antique silk or the "figure" in polished satin-wood and tell in your picture more than the actual form. It is conceivable, indeed, that a sculptor, studying shape only, might find it convenient to dredge his model over with gray powder to kill these reflections. We know that the rich and pictorial effects are partly due to a relatively trivial cause,--the direction in which the hairs are set in the skin, which varies slightly in different individuals. But in Indian horse lore the set of these featherings (they are a.n.a.logous to the radiating arrangements of birds' feathers), ending sometimes in circles or whorls, are all mapped out like currents on a mariner's chart, and each is named and interpreted for luck, temper, const.i.tution, or quality; but mainly for luck. The "_Zinnat ul Khail_" or "Beauties of the horse" is an elaborately ill.u.s.trated text-book of this absurd science. Absurd enough, but those who have rummaged in old books will feel that in the American phrase, they "have been here before." Three hundred years ago, precisely similar notions were current in Europe and learnedly discoursed upon. Mr. Alfred E. T. Watson, in the _Riding and Polo_ volume of the "Badminton Library" quotes from an Elizabethan writer, Maister Thomas Blundevill: "The horse that hath an ostrich feather either on his forehead, or both sides of his maine, or on the one side, or els behind on his b.u.t.tocks, or in any place where he himself cannot see it, can never be an euill horse."

With reference to colour, we probably have preserved more preferences than we care to admit, though we say "a good horse is never of a bad colour."

Such a saying is wildly irreverent from the Oriental point of view, whence colour and colour markings are the first things taken into account. Relics of the old ideas, however, still linger among us in such sayings as the doggerel about white feet,--

"One, you may buy him; Two, you may try him; Three, you should doubt him; Four, do without him,"--

but there are many similar rules in the East, complicated by moral and fatalistic fancies. Thus, Munshi Muhammad, Mehindi writes: "If the two hind and the near fore legs are equally blazed with white, the owner of such a horse will be happy as long as he lives." In another place: "The owner of a horse, which, in the centre of a white blaze on its forehead, has curling dark hairs resembling a scorpion, will be miserly and unreasonable, will lose his intelligence, will be without influence and will lose his senses."

Again: "When the near fore-foot of a horse is white it is called nosegay and its owner should never know fear." "When the off fore of a horse is white, he is to be avoided." Similar ideas are expressed in European books of the old time.

Among horse folk, unfamiliar with books, spoken lore takes such fantastic forms that you would think some fabulous creature was being talked of. A writer is forced to be simple in spite of himself, for the mere process of setting down a fancy reduces it to orderly shape, whereas in long rigmaroles of talk round the dreamy huqqa, old fancies expand and are distorted. And there is a purpose in elaboration. All craftsmen find it profitable to shroud their art in mystery. Even in the West the esoteric science of the horse expert could give points to the newest mystery of "esoteric Buddhism" and beat it easily. In India it is still more to the interest of horse people to keep up the mystery; for the Raja, the Nawab, and persons of condition must never be allowed to judge for themselves.

"Commission" is one of the High G.o.ds of the country, and always in paying one you pay many. The most eligible animal can be condemned for a curling hair or an inauspicious touch of colour by a master of horse whose palm has not been properly greased. In the West also you hear of commission; but, though few horse buyers exercise as much independent judgment as they think, common-sense and reason have some slight share in their transactions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A RAJA'S HORSE (WAZIRI BREED)]

There are several varieties of indigenous horses recognisable at once, and you hear of more than you can discriminate. Many grains of salt must be taken with horse talk generally and especially with Oriental brag of purity of breed. The Kathiawar horse is interesting on account of his markings, which include the asinine stripe along the back, and occasionally zebra-like stripes on the legs. Marwari horses are prized especially by native chiefs for their size and form. Among the Biloch, who have strong Arab characteristics, racing is the national pastime, but only mares are ridden, colts being killed as soon as they are born--a practice which may be expected to die out. The Biloch preference for mares is expressed in a saying: "A man with his saddle on a mare has his saddle on a horse; a man with his saddle on a horse has his saddle on his head." Their races are a little wild and irregular if judged by a European standard, but there is no doubt as to their popularity, nor as to certain good qualities of the animals. If a Biloch cannot afford a whole mare, he will own as many legs of one as he can manage; and, as the animal has four legs, will keep her a quarter of a year for each leg of which he is master, after which she pa.s.ses to the owners of the remaining legs. Akin to the Biloch is the Waziri horse; both remarkable for a lyre-like incurving of the ears, which is a beauty or a defect as the amateur may choose, and both have good qualities of their own. In the Himalaya there is a variety of ponies, st.u.r.dy gunths, and yabus that could carry a church and climb up its steeple, Bhutia ponies, and many other hill sorts from Peshawar to Pegu.

The Manipur ponies used for polo or _chaugan_ are mostly dun, and are excellent beasts in their way, playing the game with very little help from either knee or bridle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A MONEY-LENDER ON A DECCAN PONY]

The characteristic all-pervading horse of the hot plains is the _tattoo_ or country pony, a cat-hammed, shadowy animal seldom more than thirteen and a half hands high. In the south they speak of the Deccan _tattoo_, which is a better beast than others, but there seems to be no real difference of breed. Among them you often come across distinctly Arab characteristics, and most are dashed with the n.o.ble Arab blood. Though seldom good to look at, lean and unkempt, vicious and ill to handle, he is a beast of immense pluck and endurance. The half-soldier, half-brigand bands of Pindaris who made a desert of the India to which the English power succeeded, used him as their sumpter horse; and indeed few but the leaders rode anything else.

The Duke of Wellington made the acquaintance of the Deccan _tattoo_ serving in this capacity, and briefly described him, mentioning twenty-five rupees as the average price. Nowadays he is seldom so cheap; he carries the cultivator, his wife and children, to fair or market, and takes the village banker and money-lender abroad to view the crops and collect debts. Among Hindus he is often saddled and bridled without a morsel of leather in the whole equipment.

In Bengal and Madras, non-equestrian provinces, the animal often shrinks to a framework caricature of a pony; a heavy head hung on a long weak neck, no chest to speak of, inconceivably slender in girth, with weak hind legs working over each other like the blades of a pair of scissors. A little boy of my acquaintance truthfully described this kind of pony as "a real horse, but very like a bicycle." In the North-West Provinces and the Punjab the creature improves, is useful as a pack pony, and draws the ekka and the _palki gari_. Cruel over-driving and a heartless disregard of the creature's thirst are the worst features of the immense ekka traffic of Northern India. Probably the pedantic rules about drinking cause more suffering than anything else. The native is always drinking water, for in a land where to live is to sweat, you frequently want drink. But what is good for him is thought bad for the pony, foaming and frothing in thirsty misery.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOMBAY TRAM-HORSE WEARING HORSE-CAP]

It is easy to see where the Deccan _tattoo_ and the country pony generally get their quality from. Marco Polo wrote of a regular importation of Arab horses from the Persian Gulf ports at the end of the thirteenth century. In those days the vessels went up the Tanna Creek to the King of Callian. The town of Callian is now a high and dry railway junction and ships cannot reach it, but the importation has been going on ever since in vessels of probably identical build with those of the old time. You may see them in Bombay harbour, the horses standing a-row on the bags of dates that form part of the cargo, looking exactly like a Noah's Ark with the lid off. From the countries north of Kabul a constant immigration of the animals we call Northern horses, or sometimes Kabulis, has been going on for nearly as long a period, and still continues at the rate of about two thousand annually, according to the calculation of one of the importers most largely concerned. Balkh and the adjacent regions are said to be the main source of the supply of Turkoman horses. The Kafilas or caravans are mostly manned by natives of Ghazni and arrive in the Punjab from Kabul in the cold weather.

The Amir of Kabul, through whose country they pa.s.s, exacts tolls to the amount of Rs.32 per horse, mares pay seven rupees less, and His Highness is said to claim the pick of the droves at his own price. Many go to Bombay and Calcutta for the use of the tram companies, and, with the Walers in the same stables, are among the few horses in the world that wear hats as a protection from the sun. Mr. Griffiths of Bombay has been good enough to sketch for me the horse-cap in use, an eminently sensible contrivance, which has been found to protect the animals from sunstroke and headache, to which an animal from a comparatively cold country is liable. The country pony is seldom affected by the sun, but he has not the shoulders and substance of the Northern horse.

Many horses are annually imported from Australia, but they are mainly for the army and wealthy people on the Bengal side of India, and are somewhat outside my present scope. The British Government has for many years been trying to improve the horses of the country by importing English thoroughbreds, Arabs, and Norfolk trotters who stand as sires at the service of farmers under certain conditions, which include the branding of approved mares. So it will be seen that the stock of the country is of a varied nature. The magnificent Shire horse of England is unknown and probably impossible in India.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PUNJAB FARMER ON A BRANDED MARE]

A controversy has been going on intermittently for many years as to the merits of the country-bred horse and the question of Indian horse-breeding generally, which it would be impossible to summarise within reasonable limits. But while the dispute has been raging, and Government has been trying experiments and doing as much for horse-rearing as the diverse counsel of experts seemed to justify (and no experts are quite so positive in a.s.sertion or so c.o.c.k-sure in contradiction as horse authorities), a remarkable change has been brought about, and the principle of breeding in India, declared by some to be unworkable, seems to have vindicated itself.

At all events, within the last quarter of a century a noticeable improvement has taken place in all sorts and conditions of Indian horseflesh. It is true that the horse-dealer, the Raja, the turf, and the public at large have reaped much of the crop sown by Government for its own army, but, as the Scottish saying has it, "What a neighbour gets is not lost." It is scarcely in the nature of things for a Government to make money in a difficult business like horse-breeding; we can only hope that losing means learning. Nor is it only by the importation of thoroughbred English and Arab sires, or by the establishment of horse-breeding farms, that the influence of Government has been felt. Horse-fairs and horse-shows have been encouraged in the equestrian regions with good effect. Among the prizes given on these occasions are good English saddlery, including bridles with merciful bits, which will one day supersede the cruel thorn bit. But that day is still a long way off.

The Indian turf has played a great part in the improved treatment of horses. One does not look for the nimbus of a saint over the head of the average racing man, but in India he also is a missionary, spreading no ign.o.ble Gospel. For it is impossible to get high speed and quality under the old conditions of starveling upbringing and crippling bondage. The demand for ponies suitable for polo has resulted in an immense improvement in pony breeding. A fair chance for development, good food, and good training are, after all, the most urgent needs of the country pony. Some animals of distinction on the polo ground have been taken from the shafts of the ekka. The high prices given have had their effect, and polo ponies are now to be had which it would be hard to beat for speed, endurance, and handiness, though they may not always be equal to the weight of some players. The prices, in fact, are too high, for the popularity of the game, its increasing fastness, and the importance given to it by inter-regimental tournaments, give the Indian dealer, who is as smart as any other horse-dealer, a great opportunity. Formerly a subaltern of moderate means could afford to buy and keep a string of tolerable animals, but now he must pay fancy prices and often has to abandon the game. Combinations against dealers are frequently discussed, but are scarcely likely to succeed.

Though smaller in size and inferior in substance, some of the best modern Indian animals of this sort are not unlike the "c.o.c.ktail" of England in the early days of English racing, before the final triumph of the thoroughbred; but they have a more elegant contour than the c.o.c.ktail pictures show, and are probably intrinsically better horses.