OUR VALLEY. 3 



him he '11 shy for years ; " and went on to cite lo- 

 calities where a sudden, violent lurch had nearly 

 sent him over Canello's head ! What greater 

 recommendation could I wish ? 



If the old horse had had any wayward impulses 

 left, his Mexican bit would have subdued them. 

 It would be impossible to use such an iron in the 

 mouth of an eastern horse. They say the Mexi- 

 cans sometimes break horses' jaws with it. From 

 the middle of the bit, a flat bar of iron, three quar- 

 ters of an inch wide, extended back four inches, 

 lying on the horse's tongue or sticking into the 

 roof of his mouth, according to the use of the 

 curb — there was no other rein. The bit alone 

 weighed sixteen ounces. The bridle, which came 

 from Ensenada in Lower California, then the seat 

 of a great gold excitement, was made of braided 

 raw-hide. It was all hand work ; there was not a 

 buckle about it. The leather quirt at the end of 

 the reins was the only whip necessary. When I 

 left the ranch the bridle was presented to me, and 

 it now hangs behind my study door, a proud tro- 

 phy of my western life, and one that is looked upon 

 with mingled admiration and horror by eastern 

 horsemen. 



Canello and I soon became the best of friends. 

 I found in him a valuable second — for, as I had 

 anticipated, the birds were used to grazing horses, 

 and were much less suspicious of an equestrian 

 than a foot passenger — and he found in me a 



