WILD HOESE.] 



THE HORSE, AND 



[wild hoesb. 



Iicad, neck, and withers, or front of body, 

 blackish streaked; lower part of body, legs, 

 and tail, white. The hoofs are flattish beneath. 

 It is a native of the Cape of Good Hope, where 

 it lives on the open plains. Tlie Qungga is 

 said to derive its name from tlie sound of its 

 voice. Thus we read in Pringle: — 



" Tlie timorous quagga's wild whistling neigh 

 Is heard by the brak fountain far away." 



Methuen, in his Life in the Wilderness, in- 

 forms us, that when the supply of antelope 

 meat of his party was exhausted, they occa- 

 sionally had recourse to a steak from the 

 quaoga, and found it very sweet and good, 

 though it looked coarse, and was marbled 

 with yellow fat. He advises travellers in the 

 wilderness, who have an antipathy to anything 

 like horse-flesh, to try to get rid of their 

 dislike as fast as possible; and assures us tliat 

 the Griquas, a nation who dwell in St)uth 

 Africa, prefer the meat of the quagga to almost 

 any other; while his cook ApoUos, who was 

 with the British troops in their expedition 

 to Natal, and was blockaded with them in 

 the trenches by the Boors (when they were 

 compelled to feed on horse-flesii), was par- 

 ticularly fond of quagga steaks, and regarded 

 them as the most savoury food he could 

 obtain. 



THE WILD HORSE OF SOUTH AMERICA. 



All travellers, who have crossed the plains 

 extending from the shores of La Plata to 

 Patagonia, have spoken of numerous herds of 

 wild liorses. Some affirm that they have seen 

 ten thousand in one troop, all apparently 

 under the command of a leader, the strongest 

 and boldest of the herd, whom they implicitly 

 obey. A secret instinct teaches them that 

 their safety consists in their union, and in a 

 principle of subordination. The lion, the tiger, 

 and the leopard are their principal foes, which, 

 as we have said, they trample to death, being 

 led on by their leader, which is the first to 

 face the danger/ iShould the prudence of their 

 leader suggest the necessity of a retreat, the 

 wiiole troop follow in his wake. 



]n the thinly inhabited parts of South Ame- 

 rica it is dangerous to fall-in with any of these 

 troops, as when they see a horse mounted, 

 they approach as near as they dare, and call 

 upon the mounted horse with much eagerness. 

 41 



On such an occasion, if the rider be not on 

 the alert, and have not considerable strength 

 of arm, and sharpness of spur, his beast will 

 divest himself of his burden, take to his heels, 

 and be gone for ever. 



Captain Head gives tlie following account of 

 a meeting with a troop of wild horses, where 

 the country is more thickly inhabited. Some 

 poor captured animals are supposed to be 

 forced along by their riders, at their very 

 utmost speed : — " As they are thus galloping 

 along, urged by the spur, it is interesting to 

 see the groups of wild horses one passes. The 

 mares, which are never ridden in South Ame- 

 rica, seem not to understand what makes the 

 poor horse carry his head so low, and look so 

 weary. Tlie little innocent colts come running 

 to meet him, and then start away frightened ; 

 while old horses, whose white marks, on the 

 flanks and backs, betray their acquaintance 

 with the spur and saddle, walk slowly away 

 for some distance; then, breaking into a trot 

 as they seek their safety, snort and look behind 

 them, first with one eye, and then with the 

 other, turning their nose from right to left, 

 and carrying their long tail high in the air." 



The same pleasing writer describes the 

 system of horse-management among the rude 

 inhabitants of the plains of South America. 

 Tliey have no stables, no fenced pastures. 

 One horse is usually kept tied at the door of 

 the hut, fed scantily at night on maize; or, at 

 other times, several may be enclosed in the 

 corral, which is a circular space surrounded 

 by rough posts driven firmly into the ground. 

 Tiie mares are never ridden or attempted 

 to be tamed, but wander, with their fouls, 

 wlierever they please. 



When the Gaucho, the native inhabitant of 

 the plains, wants horses for himself or for the 

 supply of the traveller, he either goes with 

 his lasso to the corral, and selects those, 

 possibly, who, on the preceding day, had for 

 the first time been backed, or he scampers 

 across the plain, and presently returns with an 

 unwilling, struggling, or subdued captive. 

 When the services of the animals have been 

 exacted, he either takes them to the corral, 

 and feeds them with a small quantity of 

 maize, if he thinks he shall presently need 

 them again, or he, once more, turns them loose 

 on the plains. 



