THE HTTNTEE.] 



THE HOESE, AND 



[the hunteb. 



is liere the object — it is indefensible and 

 brutal to urge bira beyond his own natural 

 ardour, so severely as we sometimes do, and 

 even until nature is quite exhausted. It is, 

 perhaps, not now so frequent ; but formerly 

 *ve scarcely ever heard of a " hard day," with- 

 out being likewise informed, that one or more 

 horses either died in the field, or scarcely 

 reached home before they expired. Some 

 have been thoughtless and cruel enough to 

 kill two horses in one day. One of the 

 severest chases on record was by the king's 

 stag-hounds. There was an uninterrupted 

 burst of four hours and twenty minutes. One 

 horse dropped dead in the field ; another died 

 before he could reach the stable; and seven 

 more within a week afterwards. 



It is easily conceivable, and it does sometimes 

 happen, that, entering as fully as his master 

 into the sports of the day, the horse disdains 

 to yield to fatigue, and voluntarily presses on, 

 until nature is exhausted, and he falls and 

 dies. Much oftener, however, the poor animal 

 has, intelligibly enough, hinted his distress ; 

 unwilling to give in, yet painfully and falter- 

 ingly holding on; when the merciless rider, 

 rather than relinquish one hour's enjoyment, 

 tortures him with whip and spur, until he 

 drops and expires. 



However unwilling the hunter may be to 

 abandon the chase for the time being, he who 

 " is merciful to his beast" will soon recognise 

 the symptoms of excessive and dangerous dis- 

 tress. To the drooping pace, staggering gait, 

 heaving flank, and heavy bearing on hand, will 

 be added a very peculiar noise. The inex- 

 perienced person will fancy it to be the beat- 

 ing of the heart ; but that has almost ceased 

 to beat, and the lungs are becoming gorged 

 ■with blood. It is the convulsive motion of 

 the muscles of the belly, called into violent 

 action to assist in the now laborious office of 

 respiring. 



In this dangerous situation, life almost 

 quivering in the horse's nostrils, Mr. Youatt 

 says — 



" Let the rider instantly dismount. If he 

 has a lancet, and skill to use it, let him take 

 away five or six quarts of blood ; or if he has 

 no lancet, let him cut the burs with his 

 pocket-knife as deeply as he can. The lungs 

 may be thus relieved, and the horse may be 

 90 



able to crawl home. Then, or before, if pos- 

 sible, let some powerful cordial be adminis- 

 tered. Cordials are, generally speaking, the 

 disgrace and bane of the stable ; but here, and 

 almost here alone, tliey are truly valuable. 

 They may rouse the exhausted powers of 

 nature ; they may prevent what the medical 

 man would call the reaction of inflammation ; 

 although they are the veriest poison when in- 

 flammation has commenced. 



" A favourite hunter fell after a long burst, 

 and lay stretched out, convulsed, and appa- 

 rently dying. His master procured a bottle 

 of good sherry from the house of a neighbour- 

 ing friend, and poured it down the animal's 

 throat. The horse immediately began to 

 revive ; soon after got up, and walked home, 

 and gradually recovered. The sportsman may 

 not always be able to get this, but he may 

 obtain a cordial-ball from the nearest farrier, 

 or he may beg a little ginger from some good 

 house- wife, and mix it with warm ale, or he 

 may give the ale alone, or strengthened with a 

 little rum or gin. When he gets home, or if 

 he stops at the first stable he finds, let the 

 horse be put into the coolest plg^e, and then 

 well clothed, and diligently rubbed about the 

 legs and belly. The practice of putting the 

 animal, thus distressed, into * a comfortable 

 warm stable,' and excluding every breath of 

 air, has destroyed many valuable horses. 



" We are now describing the very earliest 

 treatment to be adopted, and before it may 

 be possible to call in an experienced practi- 

 tioner. This stimulating plan would be fatal 

 twelve hours afterwards. It will, however, be 

 the wisest course, to commit the animal, the 

 first moment it is practicable, to the care of 

 the veterinary surgeon, if such there be in 

 the neighbourhood, in whom confidence can 

 be placed." 



The labours and the pleasures of the hunting 

 season being passed, the farmer makes little 

 or no difl'erence in the management of his 

 untrained horse ; but the wealthier sportsman 

 is somewhat at a loss what to do with his. 

 It used to be thought, that when the animal 

 had so long contributed to the enjoyment of 

 his owner, he ought, for a few months, to be 

 permitted to seek his own amusement, in 

 his own way, and he was turned out for a 

 summer's run at grass. 



