XXY 



THE prototype of the vaquero, the Mexican gentleman, 

 is a rider of quite another quality. No city man ever ac- 

 quires the second -nature seat on a horse which one can 

 boast who spends all the working-hours of the day, and at 

 times most of his nights, in the saddle. He may be a 

 better horseman ; he may have a better style, actually or 

 according to local notions or traditions ; he may be able 

 to ride on the road, or do some one special thing, such as 

 riding to hounds, or playing polo, or tent pegging, or tilt- 

 ing, exceptionally well ; but, for all that, a chair is more 

 natural to him than a saddle ; and to ask him to ride six- 

 teen consecutive hours, which the cavalryman or the cow- 

 boy does every day, and will double up with a smile, is to 

 ask him to work to the point of complete exhaustion. 



Horsemanship is a broader term than mere riding. It 

 of necessity comprises the latter to a certain extent. A 

 good horseman must be a good rider, though he may not 

 be a perfect one, from age or disability. But the best 

 rider may be a very poor horseman. The best wild rider 

 never spares his horse ; a good horsemen's first thought 

 is for his beast. Still the horseman may by no means be 

 able to equal the rider's feats of daring, endurance, skill, 

 or agility. Whether horseman or riders, we city folks, 

 compared to the saddle-bred man whose lifework is astride 

 a horse, are and remain tenderfoots. 



I used myself to be something of a rider once, though 

 it is not for me to say so, and age has withered my once 



