466 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 



Cortez for the ass, as it is to the cavaliers for the horse, 

 it affords quite a suspicious comment upon the morals of 

 the reverend fraternity that their brute representatives should 

 inherit such carnal propensities, and disturb the solitudes 

 of nature even to this late day by so obstreperous displays 

 of them ! 



These mules a;pproach nearly in temper and form to the 

 horse. I speak of the finest of them, of course, for they 

 are very heely, and, as in th.e case of the mustangs, are 

 seldom captured. You never see a drove of mustangs without 

 a considerable proportion of mules among them ; which goes 

 to prove that the wild ass plays a consistent game with his 

 peer, the wild stallion ; and, indeed, it is no unusual thing to 

 come across them in the spring and fall engaged in most 

 desperate contests. The method of managing these duelloes 

 is rather a comical one on the part of the ass. 



I once had an opportunity of witnessing an " affair" of 

 the kind, which was something after this fashion. The ass 

 was his own trumpeter, and announced his approach from 

 afar with the euphoneous and ear-splitting symphony for 

 which he is so famous the world over. The ladies of the 

 herd seemed to be thrown into great consternation by this 

 ferociously amatory prelude, and rushed together in a trem- 

 bling crowd around their rightful lord for protection. He, 

 extricating himself and shaking his streaming mane upon 

 the winds, with a disdainful toss of his fine crest, gallops 

 out in front to meet his vulgar and boisterous enemy — who, 

 with his wide jaws distended, in a very paroxysm of harmo- 

 nious delivery, comes tearing on with headlong violence. 

 The chivalrous stallion receives him with a salute from his 

 heels that fairly rings again upon his hard shaggy limbs — 

 this compliment, which would seem to have been sufficient 

 to have shaken, if not overturned a stout-sized barn — ^has 

 not the effect of even checking the impetus of the uncouth 

 foe, who rushes on, his mouth still open, right at the throat 



