Captain Butler s Story. 141 



of the country, were so superior that we have nothing to compare with them ; but they 

 cost from ^500 to i^i.ooo each, and a racing trotter sire of reputation will fetch from 

 ;^3,000 to ;^S,ooo. When a friend at San Francisco drove me out with a pair of four thousand 

 dollar trotters, we generally walked all but half a mile out and half a mile back to town. 

 Trotting in mail phaeton style, eight or ten miles an hour, in perfect form, is not understood 

 at all ; everything is sacrificed to pace. I never met an American gentleman who took a 

 ride alone for pleasure. Amongst the stock-breeders of California I met some famous horsemen, 

 but the majority ride in the old Spanish saddle, in which leaping is out of the question, 

 for if your horse fell you would be impaled on the piques." 



HUDSON'S BAY HORSES. 



Major Butler, in his " Great Lone Land," gives the following account of the endurance 

 of North American horses, which appears to rival that of the Tartar steppes : — 



" It was the last day of October, almost the last day of the Indian summer ; the horses trotted 

 briskly on, under the care of an English half-breed named Daniel. My five horses were beginning 

 to show the effect of their incessant work, but it was only in appearance, and we increased instead 

 of diminished the distance travelled each day. We had neither hay nor oats to give them, 

 there was nothing but the dry grass of the prairie, and no time to eat but the cold frosty 

 night. We seldom travelled less than fifty miles a day, stopping one hour at mid-day, and 

 going on again until dark. 



" My horse was a wonderful animal ; day by day I feared that his game little limbs were 

 growing weary, and that soon he must give out. But not a bit of it ; his black coat roughened, 

 his flanks grew thinner, but still he went gamely on. When I dismounted, to save him, and 

 let his companions go on before, he never rested until I mounted again, and then he trotted 

 briskly on until he regained them. At the camping-place my first care was to remove saddle, 

 saddle-cloth, and bridle, and hobble him with a bit of soft buffalo leather twisted round his 

 fore-legs, and then poor Blackie hobbled away in the darkness to seek his provender. After 

 a time we drove all the horses down to some lake, where Daniel would cut little drinking- 

 holes in the ever-thickening ice. Then up would bubble the water, and down went the heads 

 of the thirsty horses at the too often bitter spring, for half the lakes and pools between the 

 Assiniboine and South Saskatchewan are harsh with salts and alkali. Sometimes night 

 would come down upon us whilst still in the midst of a great treeless plain, without shelter, 

 water, or grass. Then we pushed on in inky darkness, and Blackie stepped out briskly, as 

 if he could never tire. On the 4th of November we rode over sixty miles, and when we 

 camped in the lee of a little clump of bare willows, Blackie and his comrades went out to 

 shiver through their supper on the cold, snow-covered prairie, the bleakest scene my eyes 

 had ever looked upon." 



So pathetic is the story Captain Butler tells of the end of poor Blackie that I cannot 

 omit it, although not exactly within the scope of this chapter. The party had to cross a 

 half-frozen river. 



"Would the river bear.' that was the question. We went out early, testing it with an 

 axe and sharp-pointed poles. In places it was very thin, but in other parts it rang hard 

 and .solid to the blows. The dangerous part was in the very centre of the river. One light 

 horse was passed safely over. Now came Blackie's turn. I was uncomfortable about it, 

 and wanted to have his shoes off, but my experienced companion demurred, and I foolishly 

 gave way. Blackie was led by a long line ; I followed close behind him. He took the ice 



