It is quite beautiful to see the way in which young horses fence when their mouths are not interfered with. I have often taken a raw youngster out over a trappy country, with only leading reins on him, or long ropes, and have jumped alongside of him over the little ditches, transported with delight at the manner in which he gathered his haunches under him, and the clever way in which, on landing, he planted his feet. It is really charming to watch them, and most sad to think and know that by-and-by, when some professedly fine, but in reality totally ignorant rider gets upon their backs, every second fence or so will witness a cropper, and the young, fleet-limbed, spirited creatures will be beaten, and pulled at, and called “brutes,” and sworn at too, as though it were not the clumsy hands at their mouths that were in reality bringing them to grief.
Good hunters are, times out of number, thrown down by their riders. A lady, for instance, borrows a mount for a day, and hears from his owner (who perhaps knows very little indeed about horsemanship) that he’s a “capital goer, but wants a little _lifting_ at his fences.” I have heard that idiotic expression made use of hundreds, nay, thousands of times. Well, out she goes; the animal, fresh and buoyant, starts away at a nailing pace, and when not interfered with goes skying over obstacles from which others are turning away,--but the half-frightened rider on his back has that word “lifting” imprinted upon her sensitive brain, and the moment the horse takes off at the first big fence, up go her hands with a sudden haul at the bridle, and the animal, surprised and thrown off his balance by the action, lands unevenly, if he lands at all, and very likely gives her a severe fall.
There is not one on earth who is more against permitting any “slummucking,” or romping, or going “abroad,” than I am myself; to keep a horse well collected has always been my teaching; leave him his head when coming up to a fence; let him stretch his neck to see what it is; keep a light, _very_ light, feeling upon the snaffle when he makes his effort; and, as he lands, but _not_ till then, give him a gentle support with _both_ hands--especially if the jump is a very big one, in order that he may not “peck.” Bear in mind, however, that if you attempt this support too soon--when he is in the air, for instance, or in fact until he needs it--you will undoubtedly throw him down. Practice will teach you all these things far better than anything else, but a careful study of them should not on any account be despised.