448 The Book of the Horse. 



which any well-bred galloway can cover in his stride) stop fox-hunters is that both horses 

 and riders are afraid — the horse of falling, the rider of getting wet and rheumatism. If the 

 brook is full to the brim the shining surface alone will stop most horses at fifty yards' dis- 

 tance ; if, on the other hand, it runs between steep banks, the horsemen of a prudent age, 

 even if they ride at it, begin to think how they are to get out if they get in, and their horses 

 find out their " weak knees." There is no saying more true than the way to get over a fence 

 is to " throw your heart over it, and the horse will follow if he can." 



Many horses jump short when put at wide water because they rise in the air, instead of 

 skimming, as perfect water-jumpers do. In most cases the taking off at water is bad : if level, 

 marshy, and cut up by cattle drinking ; if high, rotten with the burrows of water-rats and the 

 eating away of winter floods. 



With firm turf to gallop on and take off from, a bold horseman and horse have repeatedly 

 cleared thirty feet, but twelve feet of a brimming brook will stop the best part of a large field. 



I remember once, with the Surrey Stag-hounds, when hunting slowly, leaping into a 

 field of some fifty acres, at the bottom of which ran a brook certainly not fifteen feet wide, 

 brimful, and shining bright as silver under an April sun. " Drive down as hard as you can," 

 said a steeplechasing friend; "you'll never get over if you give any one time to refuse." As 

 soon done as said, my thorough-bred scrambling a little on the landing side. Looking back, 

 I beheld the extraordinary spectacle of some three hundred horses refusing, like a mob of 

 irregular cavalry startled at a shell bursting, all over the field. Some prudent gentlemen had 

 ridden down to look ; their horses refused, and a cohort including many undeniable hunters 

 followed suit. The great difficulty of water is that you have to negotiate it without having 

 time to choose your taking off, on which, in a very big jump, everything depends. It is in 

 such cases that local knowledge comes in, and enables the experienced man to choose the one 

 solid spot for "having it," while strangers on better horses are beaten by the ground before 

 they make the supreme effort. 



The whole theory of riding at water is summed up in the lines. 



" Harden your heart and catch hold of the bridle- 

 Steady him ! rouse him ! over he goes !" 



The fact is, that if a horse has blood, stride, condition, and courage ; if he be willing to 

 jump ten feet of water (which he can do standing), and you are willing, he will surely clear 

 five-and-twenty, if he can get fah'ly at it. But a really willing, clever horse, without blood 

 or stride, cannot get over wide water. In nine cases out of ten he is beaten before he gets 

 to it; for wide water which must be jumped is rarely met at the commencement of a run 

 with fox-hounds. 



Many years ago, when I rode under eleven stone, a friend invited me to join a breakfast- 

 party on the last day of the season, with a pack of harriers, when a liind was to be turned 

 out, and promised to " put me up on a snaffle-bridle cob that never had refused a fence." 

 This turned out to be a very intelligent-looking galloway, which had gained a great reputation 

 that season while " hunting of the hare." 



As a matter of course we started at score, over a well-selected country, with a good 

 many low stiles and high banks. Over stiles the cob, at first, hopped like a kangaroo, and 

 climbed steep banks " like a fly on a wall ; " but after a time the unaccustomed pace began 

 to tell, and he blundered over a set of sheep-hurdles (with the snaffle I was quite unable to 

 collect my game but out-paced little animal), and I was very grateful for a check at a thick 



