SOME CURIOUS HORSES 239 



One morning, sometime after I had had him, my 

 groom sent in word that the new horse had kicked 

 his stall all to pieces, and, on going into the stable, 

 I found he had done it and no mistake. There was 

 scarcely a piece of the strong oak partitions big- 

 ger than one's hand ; they were literally smashed. 

 What made him do it I cannot imagine ; he never 

 tried it again. Strangely enough, after all this 

 violent kicking, the only place where he had 

 marked himself was a little bit not bigger than 

 a florin on his near fetlock, where he had knocked 

 off the hair. 



One trick he had of which I never cured him. 

 This was when out hunting. When taking the 

 first fence, on landing he invariably kicked up as 

 high as he could. Often and often when he 

 seemed particularly quiet I thought, " Well, old 

 fellow, you surely won't kick to-day " : but, as 

 certainly as the fence came, so surely did he kick 

 — but never except at the first fence. 



As a hunter he was perfection, and never, with 

 one exception, refused a fence with me. On that 

 occasion I felt that I was not certain about taking 

 it. I was late at the meet, and the hounds had 

 slipped off down-wind, so my only chance of getting 

 the run was by a lucky nick in. I was riding to a 

 point that I thought they would make to, and had 



