engaged for weeks in making every acre of land impassable to human beings. Fancy shooting at snipe which you walk up, not knowing at any step whether the foot you put down will sink only six inches into the mire, or be engulfed in a hole three times as deep! Sometimes a leg gets so comfortably jammed down into some deep buffalo print that it takes half a minute's hard struggling to get it out; and at one place in attempting to hoist out my left leg I force the other down almost as far, and am stuck bodily, like an early Christian of the time of Nero, without means of escape. "Rather lucky I was here to haul you out," as Rhodes calmly observes, "for the natives would as likely as not have declined to interpose, supposing that it was the will of Buddha, or of some superior powers, that you should perish, and perhaps thinking also that it served you well right for taking the innocent lives of the longbeaks."

It may be supposed that our average was not very good that day. We reckoned that each snipe actually bagged cost us three ounces of shot, and at least twice that amount of weight in perspiration. Accordingly the fifteen brace which we bring back mean a loss of close upon half-a-stone weight for each of us. Set off against this the few ounces which we have drained out of our flasks on the way, and we still feel that we have earned a good dinner and a long drink. As for MacMullen, whom we find sitting on the boat's gunwale, with one of his pet manillas in full flare, he has done wonders, and wears a Nimrod-like expression as he points to the bodies of eight doves and a fine green pigeon carefully deposited in the dingey. He found a small boy in the forest who took him about, and "put up the doves for him." This is his way of putting it; but Rhodes, who has been out on similar expeditions in this part of the world, tells me privately that the small boy, with the marvellous eyesight of his race, no doubt pointed to the birds as they sat quietly on the tops, and enabled our friend to get a careful pot shot at every one of them.

Riding Accidents.

ONE of the wisest statements ever made by Lord Palmerston was to the effect that the outside of a horse is the best thing for the inside of a man; but to enjoy all the advantages thus conferred, it is necessary that the man should be able to maintain his position. In other words, it is essential that he should keep his seat, and not be ignominiously "put down." Fixity of tenure is nowhere more desirable than in the saddle. It is never pleasant-it is always extremely dangerous-to be thrown

off a horse; and yet we see people gaily mounting the noble steed who are never really safe on his back; who ride badly and don't know it; who never take the trouble and practice which are necessary to learn how to ride well; and who, when they indulge in equestrian exercise, are always in danger. Even in the case of men who ride really well, and are constantly in the saddle, there is a certain element of risk, small though it be; and thus one may readily form an opinion as to the relative degree of safety enjoyed by those who ride without the slightest adhesive capacity or knowledge of the game, and who seem to be oblivious of the perils of the situation. Often they have a most disagreeable awakening. In the riding accidents one reads about, sees, or hears of, the victim is almost invariably a person who cannot ride.

That this is so, a very little reflection will suffice to prove. There are probably more riding accidents in the season in Rotten Row than in all the steeplechases run throughout the year. The reason is obvious. In the Row the equestrians are by no means of the first-class; many of them, indeed, are lamentably inexpert. The steeplechase jockey, on the other hand, must ride well; and, therefore, at an infinitely more dangerous game, is comparatively safe. The same argument applies to the hunting field. It is the gentlemen, on the socalled " good hunters," who get the bad falls. The rough rider, on a perfectly unschooled "young 'un," rarely gets hurt, because he rides well and can take care of himself. The gentleman trusts too much to his good hunter, and too little in himself. The result is often serious grief. The good hunter, badly ridden, gets careless, and pottering about at his jumps, gives his owner a very nasty crumpler." This style of equestrianism is assuredly perilous.

66

The common, and most serious, type of riding accident is illustrated, generally speaking, in connection with hacks. It occurs somewhat in this fashion. A man of middle age, we will say, has made money and impaired the activity of his liver. Riding exercise is recommended. Happy thought! he sees other people riding, and it looks very well, and quite the proper thing to do. True, he has never been on the back of a horse in his life, but, he argues, everything must have a beginning, and he will begin at once. He has a few lessons at a riding school; they shake him up horribly, but he perseveres, and actually acquires the capacity of just sticking on a quiet horse in his slow paces. Deluded man! he thinks this is all the capacity needful.

The next act of the drama is soon reached. The neophyte must buy a horse or two of his own. Of course he knows nothing about them, and here his troubles begin. We will assume, however, that he is fortunate enough to get an ordinarily useful and quiet animal, and very fortunate will he be if he gets even

this! He proceeds to mount his treasure, and enjoy the exhilarating exercise and the contemplation of diversified rural scenes thus placed within his reach. For a few times, perhaps, all goes well. The quiet quadruped is kept properly exercised, and is not permitted to get at all "above himself." Still he has an easy place, and in the course of time gets "fresh." His unsuspecting master rides him as usual; something startles him-one kick and a buck, and the unfortunate gentleman is found unconscious by the roadside. Let us hope he is not killed.

This is not an overdrawn picture. The incident it portrays is reported in the newspapers every day. It seems cruel to say that such an accident is the fault of the unfortunate gentleman who plays the principal rôle, yet such is undoubtedly the fact. No man ought to get on a horse who cannot survive a buck and a kick, because the quietest horse in the world is always capable of this accomplishment. Thousands of men, however, and women too, are rash enough to risk their lives on horses, without the ability to stick on if the animals diverge at all from the usual routine of their movements; and it is to such riders as these that the accidents occur. Many of them don't know their danger, and positively court a fall.

The moral to be deduced from the consideration of these facts the contention which it is now earnestly desired to emphasise is this: that riding, above all things, ought to be done well, or not done at all. Of course everyone cannot shine and excel, but everyone can learn to ride well enough to be moderately safe and comfortable on a quiet horse. This is merely a matter of ordinary energy, perseverance, and pluck. The professional riding master does his best. He is somewhat at a disadvantage in dealing with grown up and awkward pupils. They do not like to lose their dignity as responsible beings; and when the father of a family discovers that he does not know how to hold his reins, he is apt to reflect that " they don't know everything down in Judee.'

But the professional riding master should do a little more than he does. He should strive to impress on his pupils, young and old, and especially on the fathers of families, that the better they ride the safer they are, and that it is assuredly worth their while, in order to enjoy a fair chance of not getting their necks broken, to do all they can in the way of constant and steady practice to attain what may be termed the safe stage of proficiency. For instance, all pupils should be taught to ride over jumps-not necessarily big jumps-before they are allowed to leave the "academy" with the delusive belief that they can take the desiderated horse exercise without personal peril. Thus, if they can sit a horse over hurdles, etc., they are not so likely to be moved when the animal does a little unanticipated saltatory exercise on his own account. They will have learnt

how to "sit back," and how to counteract the uncomfortable impetus of sudden and unwonted movements. A man who has never jumped over a sheep hurdle is exactly the individual likely to be jumped off when he least expects it.

Hunting accidents are a fruitful theme of discussion and controversy. They do not, of course, all proceed from bad riding, but many of them may be traced to this cause. There are more serious casualties in connection with hunting than with steeplechasing-admittedly about the most dangerous form of riding. It will be pointed out that a great many more people hunt than engage in steeplechases; but, on the other hand, there are a large number constantly "schooling" these steeplechasers and hunters before they appear in public, and these men enjoy a remarkable immunity from serious falls. Again we reach the inevitable conclusion-they ride well, and are able to take care of themselves.

The gentlemen who get the bad falls have everything in their favour, except skill. They are on splendid jumpers. They need not ride at uncomfortable places if they deem discretion the better part of valour. They have a second horse out. Yet, if one reads of a really bad accident in the hunting field, it generally happens to a gentleman in the enjoyment of all these advantages. Many men are too conservative and prejudiced in their style of riding. There is a want of elasticity in their system. They ride all their hunters alike, not allowing that the horse possesses individual idiosyncrasy. Thus it is an

article of faith with many fairly good riders that they must not go fast at timber; yet some horses jump timber better if they are permitted to stride along at it. The same remark applies to a variety of other fences. Horses go in all shapes and forms, and no two jump alike. Therefore a hard-and-fast method of riding them all in the same style is a delusion and a snare, and a prolific cause of disaster.

It is surprising to notice how many men get a really bad fall now and then-rarely perhaps, but it seems bound to come from a clever old hunter. The ancient one becomes slightly too clever; he probably takes a liberty with a low rail or something of that kind; he finds to his surprise that it does not give, and of course he goes at it slowly-he simply turns over on his rider and lies on him. This is a very nasty kind of fall indeed, and almost invariably occurs to a timid rider on a "clever" hunter going slowly at a small place. Assuredly this is the most dangerous style of riding that can possibly be adopted.

A bad rider never likes to go fast at his fences. He prefers to creep rather than jump. The consequence is that when he does get a fall he has not impetus enough to carry him away from his horse, and he is therefore fairly in the wars. On the other hand, a man on a quick horse which "takes hold” at his VOL. LIII.-NO. 359.

B

jumps, and goes at them, as the saying is, "a thousand miles an hour," has always a good chance of getting to the other side, with a fall maybe, but probably clear of his "gee," and with nothing worse than a shaking. Give us a quick clever young 'un rather than a slow clever old 'un. The former always does his best, and at times perhaps a bit more.

An old and experienced horseman once said that many of the gentlemen get bad falls when hunting because they "wrestle their horses down." There is much truth in this oracular deliverance. Some riders will persist in hanging on by the mouth, and when they are jumping this fatal fault is intensified. They don't help the horse at all; in the words of the veteran above quoted, they "wrestle him down." This naturally brings one to the important and much-debated question of "hands"-a theme too far-reaching and comprehensive for the scrap of a merely fugitive paper. Suffice it is to say this, that many men are riding for years and have no idea of handling a horse's mouth properly. They continue their habit of using the reins to hold on by, instead of a guiding and controlling agency; as the ordinary expression is, they "hang on by the mouth." Unless a man is "caught young" he is never likely to have really fine "hands." This accomplishment is only possessed by comparatively few, and these do not want to be lectured as to how to protect themselves from riding accidents.

We have said nothing about ladies on horseback, and the special dangers to which they are liable when placed on that giddy height. Yet alas! they "fall" frequently, and as a rule with most disastrous results. They stick on all right so long as the horse is quiet, and a lady's horse ought always to be quiet. It should be kept in constant exercise, and sometimes when this work is entrusted to a groom it is not half done. Accordingly, quite unsuspected by the fair equestrienne, the horse comes out fresh; he plunges and kicks, and the same old tragedy is once more performed. The painful spectacle is witnessed of a lady in the mud, and no one can say how terrible such a catastrophe may be. The moral to be learnt is this, that ladies' horses ought always to be thoroughly well exercised, and that this work ought not to be trusted implicitly and without supervision to grooms. Few ladies have any management of a rough horse, and never ought to be permitted to get on one.

To all forms of horse-riding this adage applies with exceptional force that what is worth doing at all is worth doing well. The rider is only safe when he is thoroughly master of the situation, when he does not care what vagaries his animal performs, since he is confident in his own capacity to "remain," and when he does not know the meaning of that disagreeable little word "funk." All of us cannot attain to such a perfection