THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 141 



Now comes in the prenatal question. The mother 

 of Nina, my star colt, regarded Major with feelings 

 compounded of admiration and terror. Nina's sire 

 was a handsome gaited saddler of Southern pedi- 

 gree, a rich dark bay. Nina turned out to be an 

 ordinary sorrel, the same color as Major, and had 

 not a gait to her name — was merely a good roadster 

 — poor luck for a person who craved a Southern 

 saddler! As Nina developed she, who had never 

 looked on Major's face, was fully his equal in clever- 

 ness and in mischief too, although never combative. 

 The first time she snatched off Juan's hat at the 

 water tub he rushed to my window, insistent that I 

 should come out and witness the repetition of Ma- 

 jor's favorite trick. The Mexicans viewed this 

 escapade in the light of witchcraft and continued to 

 treat it with respect. It certainly was not a case 

 of mimicry. Of this Nina more in its place. 



When the colt of either sex is some two weeks old 

 his training begins — at least, the feminine method 

 of training which has been proved good enough. He 

 has already been handled and petted, and feels in us 

 the same confidence that his mother does. The 

 adjustable halter is produced, he runs up to my out- 

 stretched hand and the halter is arranged without 

 any fuss on his downy head. At this point I hand 

 over the lead rope to Ricardo, acquainted as I am 

 with the amazing strength of equine babies. The 

 boy starts with coaxing — in vain, of course. Mr. 

 Colt plants his slender forelegs firmly, the light of 

 battle in his eyes; no human being shall lead him 

 against his will. The boy could easily lift him in 



