FOREST AND STREAM, 
237 
“EL BRONCHO.” 
An afternoon’s lounge in a jersey stock-yard—the 
RACE AGAINST TIME. 
Years ago, when the secrets of the earth, which has 
raised an empire oat of the wilds of the Pacific Slope, were 
the sole property of a few wandering savages, and the 
nerveless hand of the Spanish rulers still retained some 
lax hold on the province of California, the fond lover of 
Los Angelos who desired to consummate his happiness 
was compelled to journey to Santa Barbara to obtain ju¬ 
dicial permission to do so. It was unwritten law in the 
etiquette of the Sonoran swain to perform this momentous 
voyage iu the twenty-four hours preceding the ceremony; 
so after dinner on the day before that of the wedding he 
was up and away, over mountain trail, and along saudy 
seashore, with the night wind, the forest voices, the moan¬ 
ing sea, and his own pleasant thoughts for company. A 
reckless ride of seven hours would find him at his jour¬ 
ney’s end, with all he loved sixty-five miles behind him. 
With morning came the buying of the license, nnd the re¬ 
turn, and high noon found him nearing home again, where, 
before nightfall, he would have to look back over the ex¬ 
perience of a ride of one hundred and thirty miles and a 
wedding, all compassed within the space of twenty-four 
hours. 
Long afterwards, when the piovince had been lost to its 
senile owners forever, and the Saxon delved for gold by 
every mountain stream, another class of horsemen rode a 
longer journey. Beneath the hurrying feet of the Pony 
Express the great plains slipped away like running water, 
and wondering people on the Atlantic Slope listened to 
tales of riders as furious as that of “Lenore,” and of en¬ 
durance without peer. The bleaching bones of many a 
foundered animal and the skeleton of many a fallen rider ex¬ 
ist to-day as monuments to the men and beasts who outrode 
time, and fought the swift air of the prairie for the palm 
of speed. But the race has not died out; the men of steel 
have not passed away from the slopes of the Sierras, and 
the mustang ranges the prairie as of yore. Little by little 
their sphere of usefulness was trenched on, first by the 
stage coach, then by the railroad train, that now thunders 
through the canons, whose echoes once caught up the thud 
of flying hoofs alone. The mail riders of ’49 'are degen¬ 
erated into the ranchmen and mqueros of to-day, but with 
the same skill, the same blood and bone, the same indom¬ 
itable energy, and above all, the same stock for their sad¬ 
dles as of old. 
What stuff this stock is made of, and what the men who 
ride it are like, might have been ascertained by a visit to 
the stock yard outside of Jersey City, where the mustangs 
to be ridden in the coming race against time here were con¬ 
fined, A five-mile ride across the flats brings one to the 
place, where, in the enclosure in the rear of a decayed 
country tavern, thirty-six unkempt, vicious devils of ecpiiii- 
ity held possession of a corral by virtue of pure cussed- 
uess and powerful heels. 
The prevailing colors of this singular stud are sorrel and 
roan, and to the devotee of fancy stock it is a collection of 
animals as unpromising and ugly as could well be found, 
But a closer inspection of them will be likely to induce a 
change in that opinion, and the last atom of dislike yields 
before the picture of one with all its picturesque trapping 
and mounted by its lithe and fearless rider. 
In appearance the horses are small, with fine heads, and 
limbs clean cut and beautiful as those of an antelope, end¬ 
ing In hoofs strangers to a shoe, and Bmall and dainty as a 
princess’ hand. Great nostrils that constantly quiver; 
great eyes that peer out from the shaggy forelocks full of 
blood and fire; eara fine as those of a terrier, always point¬ 
ed while in rest. The only ugly features about them are 
the manes and tails, which during the long journey on short 
fare, were eaten ragged. One in the stud, however, a can¬ 
tankerous sorrel known as El Indio, has managed, by dint 
of very viciousness, to preserve his hirsute beauties in 
their entirety, and roams theeorral with flowing mane and 
a tail that sweeps the thickly hay-strewn ground. 
The notable exceptions to the ruling colors are four—a 
buckskin filly, quite unbroken, whose capture cost the 
mqueros a ride of twenty-five miles; a white home, the one 
used among others in running down the very stud of which 
he is now a member; an iron-gray, known as “Old Blue,” 
and the best broken of the drove, and as ugly a black as 
the sun ever Shone on, with hanging lip, coat that has 
never known the comb, tail eaten to a stump, and mane as 
short as a mule’s. This beast lopes in his especial corner, 
with one eye on the fodder, and the other in a condition 
of lively expectancy anent the possibilities of getting in a 
a kick at somebody or something, a chance he never allows 
to pass. Yet this bete noir is, next to a certain sorrel, the 
fastest one of the drove. He has as yet been ridden only 
a few times. 
About the stall doors that open from the shed, which 
closes one side of the corral, lie great California saddles, 
gaudy horse cloths, and trappings queer in form and 
weighty with silver, Mexican bits, spurs with rowels like 
large pen-knife blades, horsehair iarriats and lassoes of raw- 
hide. Picturesque men in careless dress and with bronzed, 
weather-hardened faces lounge in and out among the ani¬ 
mals to an accompaniment of jingling spurs, and with a 
cool disregard for the treacherous heels of their charges 
that impresses the timid outsider with awe. On the ground 
is a mustang, which has been lassoed, thrown dowu and 
kobbled so closely that it cannot make use cf its feet, 
being shod. The animals came here and are in most cases 
yet unshod, but the exercise on the hard roads and the 
neglected track half a mile from the stockyard has affected 
some of their hoofs so that it is ueccssary to shoe them. 
The prostrate animal screams and struggles in futile wrath, 
and Us companions take up and echo the cry in savage 
chorus, while the shouts of a motley group of hoodlum 
lookers-on beyond the fence add to the confusion and con¬ 
tribute to make up a scene never to be forgotteu. 
The operation of shoeing completed, the farrier makes 
his exit to a safe corner of the inelosure as nimbly as he 
can, and one of the stockmen, by a dexterous twist at the 
bonds frees the animal’s feet. In a moment lie is up, and 
with an evident purpose of avenging the insult put upon 
him, since lie makes a dead set at the farrier, who on his 
part looses no time in sealing the fence. The action is not 
necessary to his safety, however. Before the furious beast 
lias reached the spot where the fugitive was standing a 
slender loop serpentines through the air, falls upon his 
head, and in a second is jerked tight about his neck, a 
moment more and he is fastened to the hitching bar iu the 
centre of the yard, squealing, kicking in a circle, and paw¬ 
ing the earth up with his savage, and to him, so strangely 
cumbered hoofs. 
Another Is subjected to the same ordeal, and another, and 
so on until their owner, looking at bis watch, suggests that 
three of the wildest be saddled and given a turn on the 
track before the carriage returns to town. The three se¬ 
lected are a sorrel, a roan, and the iron grey already 
described. Tlie two first are perfect maniacs, and the 
operation of saddling is one of difficulty and danger, but 
it is completed at last, and the corral gate is opened. With 
a quick spring the three riders are in the saddles. The 
roan, riddeu by the Mexican Prank Peralto, takes to 
bucking incontinently, but a twist of the jaw-grinding hit 
conquers,.and he shoots out of the gate like a rocket, fol¬ 
lowed closely by the others. Away they go over the hill, 
followed by the carriage and all the loungers, racing along 
at the top of their speed. 
The track, an abandoned course, is in a terribly stony 
state, and divided in such a way by an open drain that it is 
impossible to utilize it for more than half its extent. Over 
this course the animals plunge. They are ridden at a dead 
run, the sorrel a length a head. At the ditch they stop 
short to a touch of the rein. A napkin would almost 
cover llie ground lost in the balk. A moment more and 
they are coining hack, are by, stop at the other extremity 
of the track, and wheel about as before. 
Can these be the same animals that half an hour ago 
were seen in the stockyard? On their way back as they come 
down the sand road, through the leafless oaks, at a gallop, 
the question suggests itself involuntarily. Their heads 
are up, ears forward, nostrils pulsating, and the great eyes 
slar-t almost from their sockets. Trappings jingle, leather 
creates, and the thud of their rapid hoofs goes before them 
On the spring wind. The clouds are dividing overhead, 
the bare branches are bending, bloody spume is flecking 
the deep chests, and from the quivering nostrils come little 
runnels ©f blood. All is life and fire and motion infinite, 
from horses and riders to the elements, and the afternoon 
sun behind the cloud of dust the horsemen conjure up 
turns it to a background of gold, out of which this tempest 
of action comes. A new picture takes the place of the 
Jersey marshes, and the windy grove is gone. The air 
coming up from the sea is for a moment that of the bound¬ 
less prairie; the life we are looking at is one that poor city 
folks know only in hooks and dreams. These are the 
horses the Sonoran lover and the Pony Expressman rode, 
and the men upon them to-day can do the same. 
Pshaw! It is only a dream after all, or rather like some 
finely painted figures that one sees occasionally in inappro¬ 
priate back-ground. However, it has served one purpose. 
It has given a hint of what the broncho can do in our East¬ 
ern air, and awakened pleasant anticipations of the com¬ 
ing race. All honor to the little demons. With the ability 
to do what they have done to-day, they should be privi¬ 
leged to make a target of onr species once in a while. 
Oalifornian’s claim that these animals are, for endurance 
and speed, the best in the world, and after witnessing the 
scene so imperfectly described, their assertion can be 
readily understood. No thorough-bred is born which, un¬ 
dergoing the treatment, carrying the weight, and feeding 
as coarsely as these, could carry out the conditions of the 
race, if indeed, it Could carry them out even under the 
most favorable circumstances. The records of Mowery, 
Powers, and McNabb, are portions of the history of eques¬ 
trianism. The present feat is, as originally intended, a 
reproduction of the first one's performance, on August 2d, 
1868, at “Bay View Park,” near San Francisco. That 
ride was made over a mile track. The animals, thirty in 
number, were the common mustangs, and half breeds. 
The distance, three hundred miles, was ridden in fourteen 
hours, nine minutes. The first two hundred miles were 
accomplished in eight hours, two minutes, and forty-eight 
seconds. The limit of time for the present race was, how¬ 
ever, finally decided on for fifteen hours. The other con¬ 
ditions were the same as obtained in the Mowery feat, i. e.: 
The race to be ridden entirely by one man, the number of 
horses to be employed, thirty, the track, a mile track, the 
animals, California native stock, ridden in California style. 
$25,000 was said to be staked directly on the non-success 
of the performance, against $15,000 and the expenses of 
the affair, already more than half as much, on the part of 
the owner. 
This match was to to have been decided oil Tuesday last, 
but for some reason was postponed until to-day. The riders 
are three in number, a Mexican, Frank Peralto, and two 
Americans, Budd Parker and John Francis. 
Our American long races against time, have excited great 
interest in sporting circles abroad as well as at home, and 
this introduction of them on the Atlantic Slope will bring 
a new life to sporting matters here—since even its failure 
will lead to other and ultimately suecessfuly efforts. The 
record of the Cal ifomia distance riders lias never been ap¬ 
proached at all abroad, save in one instance, that of Mr. 
Geo..08baldiston ) who in 1831 rode two hundred miles on 
thorough-breds, twenty-eight in number, in eight hour® 
and forty-two minutes, the greatest feat of horsemanship! 
ever performed in England. 
Other interesting relay races have occurred across the- 
water though. The first recorded relay ride of special 
note, in England, was that by which the news of Queen 
Elizabeth's death was carried to James I; her successor 
then in Scotland. Sir Robert Cary was the messenger, and. 
he rode four hundred miles in three days, resting the inter¬ 
mediate nights. In 174T a Mr. Wilde rode ten horses over 
a distance of one hundred and twenty-seven miles in six 
hours and twenty-one minutes. Four years iater Mr. 
Thunhill rode two hundred and thirteen miles iu eleven 
hours. In 1761 J. Woodcock rode one hundred miles a 
day for twenty nine consecutive days. Of later feats, that of 
Mr. Osbaldiston, and of Mr. Burke, of Hereford, who drove 
a span of horse3 over forty-five miles in two hours, fifty-five 
minutes, are most important. One of llie horses driven 
was American, imported from New York. One lady, 
at least, claims the honor popularly accorded to all 
exhibitions ©f endurance and pluck, Miss Pond, wlio 
in 1758 rode one thousand miles in one thousand con¬ 
secutive hours, on one horse. A worthy rival of heT 
horse, if not of herself, wa8 the little Galloway, which at 
the end of the last century performed the same feat, at 
Carlisle. There seems to be a strong family resemblance 
between the Galloways and our Mustangs, any way. In 
1754 another of the former trotted one hundred miles a 
day, for three consecutive days, over the New Market 
course, and came out by no means sensibly distressed. 
--*•*-- 
A Work of Art. —Dining-room taxidermy is becoming 
popular as a mode of embellishment or ornamentation, but 
Mr. Alex. Pope, Jr., of Boston, has gone to a point beyond, 
and carves from wood fac similes of game birds in a man¬ 
ner which almost rivals nature itself. A number of his 
carvings have been on exhibition at Sehaus’ Gallery, where- 
they excited great admiration. This art of carving re¬ 
quires the skill, not only of the carver, but the painter, for 
after the form of the bird is cut it is necessary to paint it 
with sufficient fidelity to deceive. Such a specimen of Mr. 
Pope’s skill is now on view at this office, and the most 
practiced eye is deceived into believing it to be a natural 
bird. 
Centennial Alligators. —We infer that the Cen¬ 
tennial Exhibition is well supplied with alligators. In one 
portion of the grounds we know of a large tank which 
swarms with Bmall ones. Fred Mather, Esq., has charge 
of the Alligator Department; one of onr Texas corres¬ 
pondents offered him a ten-foot reptile some weeks ago, 
through the medium of this journal, but the following 
note would indicate that he is not wanted:— 
Galveston, Texas, May Sth, 1878. 
Editor Forest and Stream:- 
Fred Mather Baid he would make arrangements for the alligator, but 
has not done eo. He is the biggest coea you ever saw. We lmd him 
out the other day. He smashed an empty flonr barrel that happened Io 
be near Into splinters with his tail. I believe lie would break a mau’s leg 
with one blow. I have seen them knock hogs twenty feet into a river, 
and go for, and drown them In a few seconds. Jos. 'Labadie. 
Warrenton Riding Club of Virginia.—A hurdle 
race will take place to-morrow, 19th instant, under the 
auspices of this splendid club over land given them by 
Muiray Forbes, Etq., a lawyer of Warrenton. We have 
printed some articles concerning this and other Virginia 
clubs, and shall be able through one of their members to 
give a report of the several events of the coming summer. 
A correspondent sends a paragraph relative to the Warren¬ 
ton Club. He says:— 
“Gen. Payne, of Warrenton, gave me an enthusiastic ac¬ 
count of some of their performances. Tbe General was 
in the cavalry during tbe war, rising from being a private 
in the Black horse to the rank of brigadier, and is fond of 
a horse and bold riding. Tbe club is intended to keep up 
the practice of out-door exercise on horseback; numbers 
about eighty members, and is in a flourishing condition. 
A good many Englishmen are members, and are, according 
to the General's statement, fearless riders. Young Green, 
who won the hurdle race, lost a stirrup at llie first hurdle, 
but went through the race with but one, and came out 
ahead at the last. The last ditch was twelve feet wide, 
three or four feet deep, and placed next a hurdle four t,r 
five feet high, so the horses had to make some good leaps. 
I asked the General if twelve feet wasn’t rather longer 
than necessary just to teach riding; ‘well,’said he, 'tie 
English fixed it that way, and said that was the style in ti e 
old country, so we couldn’t back out, and our Fanquur 
boys would have tried anything their English friends hail 
fixed.’ The club gives cups and such prizes as will bo 
valued for what they indicate and not for their money 
value. Borne of tbe English ladies near Warrenton ac¬ 
company their husbands across country in their rides, and 
for ordinary fence do not stop but go over; of course their 
horses are well trained, but it is more than our Virginia 
girls do in this Centennial year. In the hurdle race men¬ 
tioned above two Fauquier riders took first two prizes, sn 
Englishman took the third. T. W." 
—The following delegates will represent the Central City 
Club of Syracuse at the State Convention: James Mai - 
Ding, George W. Edwards, N; C. Hinsdale, Lucius Moses, 
and H. Soule. Alternates—John A. Nichols, Frank Den¬ 
ison, G. W. Baxter, R, B. Hafiuon, and Frank B. Klock. 
