PLANNING THE RIDE. 51 



the wild steers ; afraid of the crowd ; afraid of almost 

 everything under the sun. That he was afraid of the 

 shooting, I knew before buying him. All the other 

 evidences of his constitutional timidity enumerated, 

 gradually dawned upon me during the first few days 

 on the road. I never ceased to be thankful that they 

 didn't dawn upon me in advance, however, rather than 

 as the result of experience, for had they done so he 

 would have been passed over and probably a much 

 worse animal secured. 



It took me half an hour to get Texas over the first 

 tiny rivulet, and, after crossing hundreds, he flinched 

 at stepping into the well-nigh dry bed of the historic 

 Alma, at the end of our long journey. With bridges 

 it was the same. Between Moscow and the battle- 

 fields of the Crimean war are hundreds of bridges, 

 small and great, all of which Texas was forced to cross, 

 always against his will, often under the lash ; yet he 

 attempted to turn tail at the last one, exactly as he 

 had done at the first. 



He shied at houses, people, cattle, dogs, sheep, hil- 

 locks, and sometimes at his own shadow. Left a 

 moment to himself, his first idea was to get rid of his 

 saddle, either by rolling, or by rubbing against tree, 

 post, or railing. He objected to being led, unless an- 

 other horse was ahead of him. When tired he was a 

 stumbler. Five times on the journey he went down all 

 of a heap from stumbling against some scarcely visible 

 stone or other inequality, and sent me sprawling over 

 his head. And nothing but unceasing vigilance on 

 my part prevented the recurrence of this undignified, 



