I have myself seen horses' teeth
broken with these barbarous bits. The poor beast whinnies and groans
with pain and terror; but there is no help for him, the spurs are at his
flanks, and on he goes full gallop, till he is ready to sink from fatigue
and exhaustion. He then has a quarter of an hour's rest allowed him; but
scarcely does he begin to recover breath, which has been ridden and
spurred out of his body, when he is again mounted, and has to go
through the same violent process as before. If he breaks down during
this rude trial, he is either knocked on the head or driven away as
useless; but if he holds out, he is marked with a hot iron, and left to
graze on the prairie. Henceforward, there is no particular difficulty in
catching him when wanted; the wildness of the horse is completely
punished out of him, but for it is substituted the most confirmed vice
and malice that it is possible to conceive. These mustangs are
unquestionably the most deceitful and spiteful of all the equine race.
They seem to be perpetually looking out for an opportunity of playing
their master a trick; and very soon after I got possession of mine, I was
nearly paying for him in a way that I had certainly not calculated upon.
We were going to Bolivar, and had to cross the river Brazos. I was the
last but one to get into the boat, and was leading my horse carelessly by
the bridle. Just as I was about to step in, a sudden jerk, and a cry of
'mind your beast!' made me jump on one side; and lucky it was that I
did so. My mustang had suddenly sprung back, reared up, and then
thrown himself forward upon me with such force and fury, that, as I got
out of his way, his fore feet went completely through the bottom of the
boat. I never in my life saw an animal in such a paroxysm of rage. He
curled up his lip till his whole range of teeth was visible, his eyes
literally shot fire, while the foam flew from his mouth, and he gave a
wild screaming neigh that had something quite diabolical in its sound. I
was standing perfectly thunderstruck at this scene, when one of the
party took a lasso and very quietly laid it over the animal's neck. The
effect was really magical. With closed mouth, drooping ears, and head
low, there stood the mustang, as meek and docile as any old jackass.
The change was so sudden and comical, that we all burst out laughing;
although, when I came to reflect on the danger I had run, it required all
my love of horses to prevent me from shooting the brute upon the spot.
Mounted upon this ticklish steed and in company with my friend, I
made various excursions to Bolivar, Marion, Columbia, Anahuac,
incipient cities consisting of from five to twenty houses. We also
visited numerous plantations and clearings, to the owners of some of
which we were known, or had messages of introduction; but either with
or without such recommendations, we always found a hearty welcome
and hospitable reception, and it was rare that we were allowed to pay
for our entertainment.
We arrived one day at a clearing which lay a few miles off the way
from Harrisburg to San Felipe de Austin, and belonged to a Mr Neal.
He had been three years in the country, occupying himself with the
breeding of cattle, which is unquestionably the most agreeable, as well
as profitable, occupation that can be followed in Texas. He had
between seven and eight hundred head of cattle, and from fifty to sixty
horses, all mustangs. His plantation, like nearly all the plantations in
Texas at that time, was as yet in a very rough state, and his house,
although roomy and comfortable enough inside, was built of unhewn
tree-trunks, in true back-woodsman style. It was situated on the border
of one of the islands, or groups of trees, and stood between two
gigantic sycamores, which sheltered it from the sun and wind. In front,
and as far as could be seen, lay the prairie, covered with its waving
grass and many-coloured flowers, behind the dwelling arose the cluster
of forest trees in all their primeval majesty, laced and bound together
by an infinity of wild vines, which shot their tendrils and clinging
branches hundreds of feet upwards to the very top of the trees,
embracing and covering the whole island with a green network, and
converting it into an immense bower of vine leaves, which would have
been no unsuitable abode for Bacchus and his train.
These islands are one of
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