Value of the Strength of the Horse to Man.—Origin of the the Solid Hoof.—Domestication of the Horse.—How begun.—Use as a Pack Animal.—For War.—Peculiar Advantages of the Animal for Use of Men.—Mental Peculiarities.—Variability of Body.—Spontaneous Variations due to Climate.—Variations of Breeds.—Effect of the Invention of Horseshoes.—Donkeys and Mules compared with Horse.—Especial Value of these Animals.—Diminishing Value of Horses in Modern Civilization.—Continued Need of their Service in War.

The largest economic problem which primitive people on their way upward towards civilization had unconsciously to face was that of obtaining some kind of strength which could be added to the power of their own weak limbs. For all his eminent capacities of body, man is not a strong animal, nor is he so built that he can apply the measure of strength that is in him to good advantage. There are scores if not hundreds of species with which he came in contact in his effort to dominate nature that are stronger, swifter, and better provided with natural weapons. With the first step upward, as in almost all the succeeding steps, the advance depended on securing more energy than that with which our kind was directly endowed. It is hardly too much to say that the progress of mankind beyond the savage state would probably never have been effected but for the bodily help which has been rendered by a few domesticated animals.

From the point of view of the student of domesticated animals the races of men may well be divided into those which have and those which have not the use of the horse. Although there are half a score of other animals which have done much for man, which have indeed stamped themselves upon his history, no other creature has been so inseparably associated with the great triumphs of our kind, whether won on the battle-field or in the arts of peace. So far as material comfort, or even wealth, is concerned, we of the northern realms and present age could, perhaps, better spare the horse from our present life than either sheep or horned cattle; but without this creature it is certain that our civilization would never have developed in anything like its present form. Lacking the help which the horse gives, it is almost certain that, even now, it could not be maintained.

We know the ancient natural history of the horse more completely than that of any other of our domesticated animals. We can trace the steps by which its singularly strong limbs and feet, on which rests its value to man, were formed in the great laboratory of geologic time. The story is so closely related to the interests of man that it will be well briefly to set it before the reader. In the first stages of the Tertiary period, in the age when we begin to trace the evolution of the suck-giving animals above the lowly grade in which the kangaroos and opossums belong, we find the ancestors of our mammalian series all characterized by rather weakly organized limbs fitted, as were those of their remoter kindred the marsupials, for tree climbing rather than for moving over the surface of the ground. The fact is, that all the creatures of this great clan acquired their properties of body in arboreal life, and with such relatively small and light bodies as were fitted for tree climbing. For this use the feet need to be loose-jointed, and so the system of five toes, each terminating in a sharp and strong nail or claw, became fixed in the inheritances. When, gaining strength and coming to possess a more important place in the world, these ancient tree-dwellers were able to occupy the ground which of old had been possessed by the great reptiles, the limbs that had served well for an arboreal life had to undergo many changes in order to fit them for progression in the new realm.

If we watch the progress of a bear over the surface of the ground, we readily perceive how lumbering is its gait and how poor the speed which it attains. Its slow and shambling movement is due to the fact that it has the tree-climbing foot, and is not well fitted for motion such as is required in running. To attain anything like speed in this exercise it is necessary to support the body on the tips of the toes. Every man who has gained any skill in this art knows full well how incompetent he is if he tries to run with rapidity in the flat-footed manner. The bear cannot essay this method of progression on the toe-tips because its loose-jointed feet cannot be made to support its heavy body. In this way arose the necessity of developing a peculiar kind of foot when that part had to serve for rapid locomotion. The experiments to this end have been numerous and varied. Thus in the elephants, which retain the originally numerous toes, the bones of these members are planted in an upright position and tied together with such strong muscles and sinews, that the foot parts have something like the solidity and strength of the upper portions of the legs. In the single-hoofed or horse-like forms, and in the cloven-footed animals, other series of experiments have been tried which in the end have proved most successful, giving us animals with the speediest movements of any animals except the creatures of the air.

The success which has been attained in our ordinary large herbivora, and which has made them competent to evade the chase of the beasts of prey, has been accomplished by reducing the number of the toes, giving the strength of the aborted parts to increase the power of those remaining. The result is the formation of two great groups, the double-hoofed forms, including the pigs, deer, cattle, sheep, and their kindred, and the single-toed species, of which our horse is the foremost example. In the reduction of the number of toes, different plans were followed in each of these groups. In the cloven-hoofed forms, a single toe first disappeared, leaving but four; then the two outer of these were aborted, leaving two nearly equal digits. In the series of the horse, where we can trace the change more clearly, we find the earliest form five-toed, but the outer and inner digit shrunken so as to become of little use. This condition of the creature in the early Tertiaries gives us the beginning of the equine series, and shows that far away as the creature is now from ourselves, it originated from the main stem of mammalian life, from which our own forms have sprung. In the next higher stage in time, and likewise in development, we find these lessened toes at their vanishing point, and two of the remaining digits, lying on either side of what corresponds to the middle finger in our own hands, beginning to shrink in length and volume, while the central toe becomes larger and stronger than before. Last in the series we come to our ordinary equine form, in which nothing is left but the single massive extremity, though the remnants of two of the toes can be traced in the form of slender bones known as splints, which are altogether enclosed within the skin which wraps the region about the fetlock joints.

As if it were to show to us the history of this marvellous organic achievement, nature now and then, though seldom—perhaps not oftener than one in ten million instances—sends forth a horse with three hoofs to each leg. Two of these are small and lie on either side of the functioning extremity. Each of these hoofs is connected with a splint-bone which has in some way suddenly become reminded of its ancient use, and develops in a manner to imitate the creatures which passed from the earth millions of years ago. In most cases the splint-bones have no function whatever to perform. They are indeed superfluous and injurious parts, and are likely from time to time to be worse than useless, becoming the seats of disease. In this beautiful instance, perhaps the fairest of all those showing how the highly developed forms of our time retain a memory of their ancestral life, we see how the advance in the series of the horse has been effected against the resistance ancient organic habit opposes to all gains. We can therefore the better understand how the building of the hoof represents the labor of geologic ages during which the slow-made gains were won.

In its present elaborate form, the hoof of a horse is the most perfect instrument of support which has been devised in the animal kingdom to uphold a large and swiftly moving animal in its passage over the ground. The original toe-nail, and the neighboring soft parts connected with it, have been modified into a structure which in an extraordinary manner combines solidity with elasticity, so that it may strike violent blows upon the hard surface of the earth without harm. The bones of the toe to which it is affixed have enlarged with the progressive loss of their neighbors of the extremity, until they fairly continue the dimensions of the bony parts of the leg. Moreover, they have lengthened out, so as to give the limb a great extension, and this, in turn, magnifies the stride which the creature can take in running. The result is that the horse can carry a greater weight at a swifter speed than any other animal approaching it in size.

The needs which led, in a slow accumulative way, to the invention of the admirable contrivance of the horse's foot, were doubtless founded on the necessities of swift movement in fleeing from the great predaceous animals. Incidentally, however, as this development has gone on, the peculiarities of the extremity have proved highly advantageous in defence, and the creatures have acquired certain peculiar ways of using their feet effectively to this end. The solid character of the hoof, its considerable weight, and the great power of the muscles of the hams, which are the principal agents in propelling the animal, make the hind feet capable of delivering a very powerful blow. The measure of its efficiency may be judged from the fact that a lion has been slain by a stroke from the foot of a donkey, and in their wild state a herd of horses with their heads together, can beat off the attack of the most powerful beasts of prey. In using the hind feet for assault or defence, horses have adopted an effective method of kicking which is unknown among other animals. Resting on their fore-legs, the hinder feet are thrown backward and upward, so that they may strike a blow six feet from the ground. Many of our cloven-footed animals have learned to strike cutting blows with the sharp hoofs of their fore-limbs—our bulls will stamp a fallen enemy with great force; but the backward kick of the horse is a peculiar movement, and is distinctly related to the peculiar structure of the animal's extremities.

It is an interesting fact that the development of a long and slowly elaborated series leading to the making of the horse appears to have taken place mainly, if not altogether, in the region about the headwaters of the Missouri River. In the olden days when this great work was done, that part of our continent was a well-watered country, much of its surface being occupied by great lakes which have long since disappeared. In the deposits accumulated in these bodies of fresh water are found the bones of the olden species telling the history of their series. It is not yet certain that the final step of the accomplishment which gave us our existing species was effected in this land. It seems indeed most likely that the ancestral form of our domesticated horses found their way to the continents of the Old World, and there underwent the last slight changes, before they were made captive by man. If there ever were perfect horses on this continent, they had passed away from its area before the coming of man to the land. The history of our aborigines would have been quite other than it has been, if they had had a chance to win the assistance of this noble helpmeet.

Central Asia appears to have been the domicile of the horse when he first began his acquaintance with our kind. We do not know the original form of the creature. The wild horses existing at the present day in that part of the world, and which plentifully occur in other regions whereunto they have been taken by man, appear to have been set free from captivity.

The first domestication of the horse appears to have been brought about, at an early time in the history of our race, in northern Asia. The time when this feat was accomplished antedates our records. The creature may first have come into possession of the Tartar tribes, but it quickly passed over Asia and Europe and shortly became the mainstay of the Aryan and Semitic folk. None other of our domesticated forms has been disseminated with like rapidity, or at the outset with as little change in its original features. From the first the horse seems to have been mainly used as a saddle and pack animal. It has never served in any considerable measure for food. The failure to make use of the flesh of this animal appears to be common to most of the savage or barbaric people who keep horses, and has been transmitted in a singularly definite way to all civilized folk. The origin of such a prejudice, despite the fact that the flesh of the horse is of excellent quality, can only be explained through the sympathetic motives common to all men. Their association with the horse, as with the dog, is so intimate as to make the use of these animals in the form of food more or less repugnant. In a small though unimportant way, mares have been used for milk, and there seems no reason to doubt that, if they had been carefully bred for this purpose, they might have been as serviceable as the cow. It may be that the failure to use the milk of the horse is to be accounted for on the same ground as the dislike to its flesh.

The horse was probably at first most valued for its use in war. The peoples which possessed it certainly had a great advantage over their less well provided neighbors. In fact the development of the military art, as distinguished from the mere fighting of savages, was made easy by the strength, endurance, fleetness, and measure of bravery characterizing this creature. In the wide range of species which have been domesticated or might be won to companionship with man, there is none other which so completely supplements the imperfect human body, making it fit for great deeds. If the horse had been much smaller or larger than he is, he would have been far less serviceable to man. It was a most fortunate accident that the creature came to us with the proportions which insured a high measure of utility in various lines of activity. The elephant has been found too large for agricultural uses, and too powerful to be controlled by the will and force of his master under conditions of excitement.

Those peoples which early acquired the resources in the way of strength and fleetness which the horse put at their disposition, became inevitably the conquerors of the folk who were denied these advantages. If we consider the conditions which have led to the domination of the world by the Aryan and Semitic people, and the races which they have affiliated with them, we readily discern the fact that they have, to a great extent, won by horse-power rather than by their own physical strength. Thus equipped by their able servants, they have pressed outward from their ancient realms and have in a way overridden the tribes which were unmounted.

So imposing is the effect of the horsed man on all peoples who are without previous knowledge of the united creatures, that it always carries fear to their hearts. To such folk the combination appears as a single terrible being. The ease with which the Spaniards conquered Mexico and Peru can, to a great extent, be attributed to the awe carried into the ranks of the savage footmen by their mail-clad horses. The Greeks, who were wont to represent the forces of nature and the accomplishments of man by skilfully constructed myths, have left a record showing their appreciation of the strength derived from the union of horse and man, in their fable of the Centaur, which possibly grew up in a time before their people had won the use of the animal, and when they only knew the creature by chance encounters with enemies who were mounted upon them. Although the naturalist of to-day perceives the impossibility of there ever having been on this earth a form uniting the trunk and fore-limbs of a quadruped to the upper part of a man's body, such scientific conceptions are a part of our modern, recently acquired store of knowledge. To the Greeks of the myth-making age the creature, half man, half horse, added but one more wonder to the vast store the world already contained. The currency of this fable shows us very clearly how great was the impression which the horse made upon primitive peoples.

To perceive the value of the horse in those ancient contests which opened the paths of civilization, we must note the fact that, until the invention of gunpowder, success in breaking the ranks of an enemy depended mainly on the charge. With a large body of vigorous horsemen it was generally possible to overwhelm an enemy's line of battle, either by direct assault or by an attack on its flank or rear. If the reader is curious to see the value of horsemen in ancient warfare, he should read the story of the campaigns of Hannibal against the Romans in Italy. The first successes of that great commander—victories which came near changing the history of the western world—were almost altogether due to the strength lying in his admirable Numidian cavalry. The Romans were already good soldiers, their footmen more trustworthy than those which the Carthagenian general could set against them; but with his horsemen, as at CannÆ, he could wrap in the Roman line and reduce the most valiant legions to the confused herd which awaited the butcher.

Although the invention of firearms has somewhat changed the conditions under which cavalry may be used, making indeed the direct charge more costly to the assailant than the assailed, it has in no wise diminished, but rather increased, the value of horses in military campaigns. In the line of battle horses have become necessary for the conveyance of field officers and messengers, and the right arm of battle, the artillery, could not possibly be managed except by horse-power. The swift marches of modern armies, by hastening the issue of contests, have spared the world half the woes of its great campaigns, and are made possible by the ready movement of supply trains, which could not be effected except by the help of these creatures. The result is that a large part of the military strength of any state rests not only in the valor and training of its fighting men, but in the supply of horses that its fields may afford. In this connection it is instructive to compare the military strength of a country like China, where the horse is not a common element in the life of the people, with that of any of the western folk who may hereafter have to wrestle with that populous empire. Some writers, in their efforts to forecast the large politics of the future, have imagined that when the hardy and obedient Chinaman came to receive the European training in the military art, the armies of that country might prove from their numbers a menace to our own civilization. Such an issue seems in a high degree improbable, for the reason that the eastern realm could not provide the horses which would be necessary for the use of invading armies; nor is it at all likely that the rigid framework of their society will ever be so altered as to provide an abundance of these animals.

Although in the first instance the horse served mainly, if not altogether, as an ally of man in his contests with his neighbors, its most substantial use has been in the peaceful arts. As pack animal and drawer of the plough, the ox appears in general to have come into use before its swifter companion. The displacement of horned cattle has been due to the fact that their structure and habits make them much less fit for arduous and long-continued labor than the horse has been found to be. The cloven foot, because of its division, is weak. It cannot sustain a heavy burden. Even with the unincumbered weight of the body of the animal, the feet are apt to become sore in marches which the heavily mounted horse endures unharmed. Centuries of experience have shown that while the ox is an excellent animal for drawing a plough in a stubborn soil, and is well adapted to pulling carriages where the burden is heavy and the speed is not a matter of importance and the distance not great, the creature is too slow for the greater part of the work which the farmer needs to do. The pace which they can be made to take in walking is not more than half as great as that of a quick-footed horse moving in the same gait; and the ox is practically incapable, because of its weak feet, of keeping up a trot on any ordinary road. But for the fact that an aged ox may be used for beef, they would doubtless long since have ceased to serve us as draught animals. As it is, with the growing money value of the laborer's time, this slow-moving creature is steadily and rather rapidly disappearing from our farms. This change, indeed, is one of the most indicative of all those now occurring in our agriculture. It is an excellent example of the operations which the increase in the workman's pay is bringing into our civilization.

The natural advantages of the horse for the use of man consisted in its size, strength, and endurance to burden; form of the body, which enabled a skilful rider to maintain his position astride the trunk; and the peculiar shape of the mouth and disposition of the teeth which made it possible to use the bit. With these direct physical advantages there were others of a physiological and psychic sort, of equal value. The creature breeds as well under domestication as in the wilderness; the young are fit for some service in the third year of their life, and are, at least in the less elaborated breeds, in a mature condition when they are five years old. Experience shows that the animal can subsist on a great variety of diet, being in this regard surpassed only by its humbler kinsman the donkey, and by the goats. There are few fields so lean that they will not maintain serviceable horses. They do well alike in mountain pastures and amid the herbage of the moistest plainland.

The mental peculiarities of the horse are much less characteristic than its physical. It is indeed the common opinion, among those who do not know the animal well, that it is endowed with much sagacity, but no experienced and careful observer is likely to maintain this opinion. All such students find the intelligence of the horse to be very limited. It requires but little observation to show that the creature observes quickly, and in some way classifies the objects with which it comes in contact. The fear aroused in it by unknown things makes this feature of attention to the surrounding world very evident. Almost all these animals retain a tolerably distinct memory of the roads which they have traversed, even if they have passed over them but a few times. The studies which I have made on this point show me that the average horse will be able to return on a road which it has traversed a few hours before, with less risk of blundering than an ordinary driver. Some well-endowed animals can remember as many as a dozen turnings in a path over which they have journeyed three or four times. It seems almost certain that their guidance in these movements is not at all effected by the sense of smell, but is due to a distinct memory of the detailed features of the country.

Good as is the horse's memory, it is difficult to organize its actions on that basis. Only in rare cases and with much labor can he be taught to execute movements that are at all complicated. Fire-engine horses may be trained of their own will to step into the position where they are to be attached to the carriage. Some artillery horses will, as I have noticed, associate the sound of the bugle with the resulting movements of the guns and take the appropriate positions, where they may be out of danger in the rapid swinging of the teams and carriages. It is partly because of this training received by disciplined artillery horses, that it seems to many experienced officers not worth while to have militia companies in this arm, who have to manoeuvre with animals untrained for the service. Although some part of this mental defect in the horse, causing its actions to be widely contrasted with those of the dog, may be due to a lack of deliberate training and to breeding with reference to intellectual accomplishment, we see by comparing the creature with the elephant, which practically has never been bred in captivity, that the equine mind is, from the point of view of rationality, very feeble.

The emotional side of the horse's nature seems little more developed than its rational. Although they have a certain affection for the hand which feeds them, and in a mild way are disposed to form friendships with other animals, they are not really affectionate, and never, so far as I have been able to find, show any distinct signs of grief at separation from their masters or of pleasure when they return to them. Although there are many stories appearing to indicate a certain faithfulness in horses which have remained beside their fallen and wounded riders, the facts do not justify us in supposing that such actions are due to the affection a dog clearly feels.

We have been singularly led astray by a chance use of the epithet "horse," which has come to be applied to many organic forms and functions where strength is indicated. Thus, in the case of plants we speak of "horse-radish" or "horse-mint," denoting thereby spices which have strong qualities. Horse-chestnut is another instance of the application of the term to plants. It chanced that "horse-sense" came to be used to indicate a sound understanding, and in an obscure way, but in a manner common with words, this has led to a vague implication of mental capacity in the animals whence the term is derived. The fact is that our horses, as far as their mental powers are concerned, appear to be the least improvable of our great domesticated animals.

Little elastic as the horse appears to be on the psychic side of its nature, in its physical aspects it is one of the most plastic of all the forms subjected to the breeder's art. It requires no more than a glance at the streets of our large cities to see how great is the range in size, form, and carriage of these animals which may be found in any of our great centres of civilization. We readily perceive that these variations have a distinct relation to the several divisions of human activity in which this creature has a share. The massive cart-horse, weighing it may be as much as eighteen hundred or two thousand pounds, heavy limbed, big headed, unwilling to move at a pace faster than a slow trot, yet not without the measure of beauty seemingly inseparable from the species, contrasts very markedly with the alert saddle animal bred for speed and grace, and for the easy movement which makes it comfortable to the equestrian. Between these extremes we may note minor differences which, though they may not strike those persons who take only a commonplace view of the creatures, are most marked to the initiated. The trotter, the coach horse, the strong but nimble animals which are used in fire-engines and other heavy carriages which have to be swiftly moved, mark the results of breeding designed to insure particular qualities, and show how readily the physical features of the animal can be made to fit to our desires.

Although from an early day a certain amount of care has been given to breeding horses for saddle purposes, the careful and continuous choice which has led to the modern variations is a matter of only a few centuries of endeavor. So far as we can judge from the classic monuments, the olden varieties were mere varieties of the pony—the small, compact, agile creature which had not departed far from the parent wild form. It seems to me doubtful whether any of the horses possessed by the Greeks or Romans attained a weight much exceeding a thousand pounds, or had the peculiarities of our modern breeds. The first considerable departure from the original type appears to have been brought about when it became necessary to provide a creature which could serve as a mount for the heavy armored knights of the Middle Ages, where man and horse were weighted with from one to two hundred pounds of metal. To serve this need it was necessary to have a saddle animal of unusual strength, weighing about three-quarters of a ton, easily controllable and at once fairly speedy and nimble. To meet this necessity the Norman horse was gradually evolved, the form naturally taking shape in that part of Europe where the iron-clad warrior was most perfectly developed. In the tapestries and other illustrative work of that day, when the knight won tournaments and battle-fields, gaining victory by the weight and speed which he brought to bear upon his enemies, we can see this splendid animal, in physical form, at least, the finest product of man's care and skill in the development of the lower species.

With the advance in the use of firearms the value of the Norman horse in the art of war rapidly diminished. This breed, however, has, with slight modifications, survived, and is extensively used for draught purposes where strength at the sacrifice of speed is demanded. It is a curious fact that the creatures which now draw the beer wagons of London often afford the nearest living successors in form to the horses which bore the mediÆval knights. It is an ignoble change, but we must be grateful for any accident which has preserved to us, though in a somewhat degraded form, this noblest product of the breeder's art, which, even as much as the valor of our ancestors, won success for our Teutonic folk in their great struggle with Islam. A tincture of this Norman blood, perhaps the firmest fixed in the species of any variety, pervades many other strains most valuable in our arts. The best of our artillery horses, particularly those set next the wheels, are generally in part Norman. In the well-known American Morgan, the swiftest and strongest of our harnessed forms, the observant eye detects indications of this masterful blood.

The Norman strains of horses retain certain interesting indications of their ancient lineage and occupation. As appears to be common with old breeds, the stock is readily maintained. It breeds true to its ancestry, with little tendency to those aberrations so common in the newly instituted varieties. When crossed with other strains, the effect of the intermixture of this strong blood is distinctly traceable for many generations. In their mental habits these creatures still appear to show something of the effects of their old use in war; it is a valiant race, less given to insane fear than other strains, and, even under excitement, more controllable than the most of their kindred. So far as I have been able to learn, they seem singularly free from those wild panics which are so common among our ordinary horses. It does not seem to me fanciful to suppose that these qualities were bred in the stock during the centuries of experience with the confusion of battle-fields and tournaments.

The horse, in common with the other domesticated animals varying readily in the hands of the breeder, undergoes a certain spontaneous change which in a way corresponds to the physiography of the region in which it is bred. At first sight it may seem as if these alterations are due to the admixture of previously existing varieties, or to the institution of peculiarities by some process of selection. I am, however, well convinced that these variations are in good part due to a direct influence from the environment. Thus in our high northern lands there is a distinct and spontaneous reduction in size of the creatures, which attains its farthest point in the Shetland pony. Again, as we go toward the tropics, a like though less conspicuous decrease in bulk is observable. The largest animals of the species develop in the middle latitudes, the realm where the form appears to have acquired its characters. The speed with which these local variations are made is often great. Thus the horses of Kentucky have, in about a century, acquired a certain stamp of the soil which makes it possible, in most cases, for the observer to identify an individual as from that State, though he may find it in a field a thousand miles away. The defining indications are not limited altogether to bodily form, but are shown in what might seem trifling features of carriage and behavior. The difference between the horses of Great Britain and those of the United States seems to me, from repeated observations, to be quite as great as that separating the men of the two realms. I believe that if a lot of a thousand, taken in equal parts from either land, were put together, a person well accustomed to taking account of these animals could separate them into two herds, with less than ten per cent. of error. It is doubtful if a more perfect selection could be made if the same experiment were tried on an equal number of men, provided the indices to be derived from peculiarities of speech or dress could be excluded.

By some the Arabian horse is thought to be the most remarkable specialization of the kind which has been attained. In his native country and in his perfection, the Arab breed has been seen by but few persons who have been specially trained in noting the peculiarities of the animal. So far as I have been able to judge by pictures and a few specimens, said to be thoroughbreds of their stock, which I have had a chance to see, the Arabian form of the horse appears to have been led less far away from the primitive stock than many of our European and American varieties.

The very great, if not the preËminent, success of the horse in Arabia is the more remarkable from the fact that it has been attained under conditions which, from an a priori point of view, must be deemed most unfavorable. This variety has been bred in a land of scant herbage and deficient water-supply, where the creature has had from time to time, indeed we may say generally, to endure something of the dearth of food which stunts the Indian ponies and the other horses of the Cordilleran district. The ancestors of the horse appear to have attained their development in well-watered and fertile regions. All the varieties bred within the limits of civilization do best on rich pasturages such as Arabia does not afford. The success of the horse in that land shows how devoted must have been the care which has been given to its nurture. Fitting, as the Arabian horse does, exactly to the needs of nomadic people engaged in almost constant warfare, it has naturally been a far more important helper to the wild folk of the desert lands about the eastern Mediterranean and the Red Sea than to any other race. In those lands horses fell into the keeping of a very able folk. The contrast between the care devoted to the animals by them, and that which our Indians give to their ponies, is a fair measure of the difference in the ability of these very diverse races.

As a whole, the horse demands for his best nurture and keeping an amount of care required by no other animal which has been won to the uses of man, unless perhaps it be the silkworm. Kept in its best state, the horse has to be sedulously groomed. To be maintained in its very best condition some hours of human labor must each day be given to keeping his skin in order. The effect arising from a friction on the horse's hide is not confined to the beauty that comes from cleanliness, but in a curious way reacts upon the general nervous tone of the animal. All those who are familiar with horses will, I think, agree with me that much grooming distinctly increases the endurance and elasticity of their bodies. The influence of the grooming process appears to be somewhat like that obtained by massage and friction of the skin in the training of an athlete. More than once I have had occasion to observe the effect of this process on some ancient horse of good blood, which for years had been allowed in its old age to go uncared for as an idle tenant of the pastures. Two or three days of assiduous grooming will bring back the strength and suppleness to the aged limbs, and restore something of the olden spirit. The effect obtained from this care is the more remarkable for the reason that nothing similar to it was experienced by the wild ancestors of these creatures. It is as artificial as bathing in the case of man. The influence of the treatment shows how very unnatural is the state of our civilized horses.

The task of providing horses with food is more considerable than in the case of any of our other domesticated creatures. By nature the animal is a frequent feeder, and does not well endure long fasts. Its stomach is rather small for the size of the body, and the digestive process appears to be more than usually rapid. A mounted animal, when taxed to its utmost, should be fed four or five times a day, and with less than three good meals is apt to break down. No such care in the matter of provender is necessary in the case of the other members of man's animal family. The contrast between the physiological conditions of the camel and those of the horse are fully recognized by the Arabs, in their almost complete neglect of the individuals of the one species and their exceeding care of the other.

Perhaps the greatest element of care which man has had to devote to the horse is found in the matter of shoeing. In the state of nature the admirably constructed hoof sufficiently provided the animal against the excessive wearing of its horny extremity. Nature, however, rarely provides for more strength and endurance than the creature in its wild state demands; and so it comes about that when horses have to bear burdens or draw carriages, particularly on roadways, their unprotected feet will not withstand the strain which is put upon them, the rate of growth of the structure composing the hoof not being sufficiently rapid to make good the wearing which these unnatural conditions impose. For thousands of years, in the roadless stages of man's development, the difficulties arising from the wearing of the hoof were not serious, for the creatures trod either on turf-covered plains or on the soft ways of the desert. When the advance of culture made roads necessary, when carriages were invented and something like our modern conditions were instituted, it became imperatively necessary to provide additional protection for the feet. We find the Greeks, in the classic time, wrestling with this problem. Xenophon, in his treatise on the care of horses, advises that they be reared on stony ground, he having observed that, in a natural way, the hoof becomes somewhat adapted to the necessities of its conditions. The Romans found the difficulty from the tender foot of the horse yet more serious on their paved roads; but both these classic people showed, in their ways of dealing with the difficulty, that lack of inventive skill which so curiously separates the olden from the modern men. They devised soles of leather and bags as coverings for the horse's feet, but none of the contrivances could have been very serviceable. All such coverings must have been quickly worn out in active use.

So far as we can determine, it was not until about the fourth century of our era that the iron horseshoe was invented. This valuable contrivance appears to have originated in Greek or Roman lands, probably in the former realm, for it first bore the name of "selene," from its likeness to the crescent shape of the new moon. Although simple, the horseshoe was a most important invention, for it completely reconciled the animal to the conditions of our higher civilization by removing the one hinderance to its general use in the work of war and commerce. It is probable that with this invention began the great task of differentiating the several breeds of European horses for their use in various employments, as draught animals for packing purposes, as light saddle horses, and the bearing of armored men. Neither the draught nor the war horses of Europe could well have been specialized until their heavy bodies were separated from the ground by these metallic coverings of the hoof.

Syrian Horse