PUTTING OUR KNOWLEDGE TO WORK

Probably the best illustration of how we make use of our ability to understand and communicate with our horses is the gentling system of training horses, which we have devi­sed for handling and training unbroken and untouched horses. We call gentling the 'easy way' to train a horse, since it is easy for the human being to train a horse if that horse understands what you want from the outset. It is also easy for the horse, since you are using a method of com­munication wliich he understands. It is not easy in the sense that it takes less time, nor in the sense that it involves less work – it takes just as long to produce the finished product, and just as much work as the conventional methods. But it is easier than they are in that there is a lot less trouble and there is a lot less argument between horse and rider, and we like to think that it is much more enjoy­able for the horse. Instead of saying 'you damn well have got to do what I tell you to do,' we say 'let's do this,' or 'let's do that.' To give you a human parallel, the difference is between a Guard Sergeant Major drilling a squad of recruits, and someone taking a bunch of children for a walk.

When we are gentling we do things only in the way a horse understands naturally. For example if you walk up behind a wild horse, he will go away from you forwards, but if you approach his head, he will go away from you backwards. Now this is quite simple and logical, and on this principle we have devised the natural response to very nearly any action, and since we use equine communication the whole time, the horse understands what we want him to do.

During the course of a year we will probably gentle between thirty and forty horses. Some of these are horses that have been handled from birth, others may be six-, seven- or eight-year-old mares or stallions that have never been touched or haltered in their lives, and others again will be horses that other people have tried to break themselves and have failed with. We also get a number of really bad and unmanageable horses whom no one else can handle.

Perhaps the true merit of gentling and of the way we understand and teach horses is best revealed in our dealing with the horses we catch off the open mountain. Most of these have never been handled in their lives and are com­pletely wild. And we get most of ours from our own moun­tain, which stretches for two or three thousand acres with another couple of thousand acres of forestry adjoining it, which mean that the horses have a free range of about five thousand acres.

To most people it would seem almost impossible to catch an untouched wild horse off an open mountain where he has a run of five thousand acres. But in actual fact it is comparatively simple. Any one herd of horses will graze only over an area of two or three hundred acres. The horses will have their set paths and grazing procedures, places where they usually spend the night, places where they go to in bad weather and others where they graze and normally drink. If the herd is frightened, the horses will usually go in the same direction, ending up in the same place, and then they will go round in a circle and come back again. So the first thing we do, over a period of two or three weeks, is to observe the habits of the herd to which the horse we want belongs. We watch where he grazes, where he drinks, where he rests and where he spends the night, and par­ticularly we note where he goes in bad weather, since in rough windy weather the horses will not be grazing on the , top of the open mountain. Normally the herd will be graz-I ing in an area of twenty or thirty acres, but in rough and I wet weather they will all Shelter together in one particular I spot, usually on the edge of the mountain or in a corner by the forest. Once we have established the spot where the horses go, we wait for a very wild and wet night, and then early in the morning go to the spot, and slowly walk the horses into the nearest farmyard.

This is simpler to do than it sounds, since the horses will be rather cold and miserable, and they will naturally keep together. We do not approach very near to them. As soon as they see us they start to walk away. We walk slowly after them, keeping away but edging them slowly in the direc­tion we want them to go. When catching wild horses, we never run, we never get excited, we never raise our voices. We are relaxed, calm and slow in our movements, talking to the horses all the time, so that the horses are relaxed and calm. We never get too near them and we never allow them to trot. Slowly and carefully we edge them down a con­venient road or lane and into the farmyard. The horses will walk into the yard quite quietly and happily, and then we slowly drive them into a building. This can sometimes be a time-consuming process, but you must be patient. First an old mare will look into the building – she will be the herd leader –and then she will go in, and then her foal will follow her, and the others will all go in very quickly. The whole time we will have been talking to them in a sing-song voice, gently and slowly. We can see the bunch of horses, who have become a little bit excited and apprehensive when they get into the building, visibly relax. When they are sufficiently relaxed, we start easing the horses we do not want – in a herd of maybe five, ten, fifteen or in very ex­ceptional cases twenty-five or thirty horses – out of the shed by ones and twos, until we are left only with the ones we need for gentling. When the other horses have been turned back to the mountain, the horses we are left with will b? very agitated, because they are alone, and probably for the first time in their lives. If there is only one horse finally left alone he will be belting round the boxes, screaming at the top of his voice 'where are you, where are you, where have you got to.' And when I re-enter the box he will be absolutely terror-stricken. He will dash round the box, pounding into the corners, anything to get away from me. All his previous experience with man has been frightening, and he has been accustomed all his life to putting as much distance between him and man as pos­sible. I ease myself into one corner, lean against the wall and light a cigarette, talking to him quietly and gently all the time, compelling myself to relax, and by degrees I will establish a thread of sympathy with him as I begin thinking on the same wavelength as he does. I shall be using e.s.p. to relax and settle him. After a very short while he will stop in the opposite corner of the box for a while, and I let him stand there looking at me, breathing fire.

The Spaniards, when they are talking about bull­fighting, say that the bull always goes back to take up his position in one particular section of the arena, and they call that the bull's quarter. We find exactly the same thing is true of a horse. When a horse is in a confined space, he will make his territory in one particular part of that space, and we call it the horse's quarter of the box. It is usually the corner of the box opposite to the one I take, and after a very short time, he will establish that as his territory and he will tend to return there whenever he is frightened or in trouble. When he has settled in his corner of the box, he will start blowing through his nostrils at me. What he will be saying is 'who the hell are you,' and I will blow back at him, pitching the tone of the blow two or three notes below his, so in reply to his 'who the hell are you' I shall be saying 'who are you'. And by degrees he will soften the tone of his blow, and I will drop mine lower still, until he is saying 'who are you' and I will have changed from 'who are you' to 'hello'. When he too comes down to say 'hello' to me I start to advance slowly and gently towards him. His range of messages is always the basic message, 'hello', but the greeting can vary from the very aggressive 'who die hell are you' down to just the plain 'hello'.

When the horse has accepted me enough to greet me as he would any casual acquaintance, I can start moving to the next stage of the gentling. I walk slowly towards him, one step at a time, after each step waiting for him to relax again, until I get right up to him. In between blowing through my mouth I am smoking my cigarette and talking to him all the time: 'there's a clever boy, there's a clever boy, there's a clever little fellow.' I also aim to approach him at his neutral point, that is the point from wliich he has no impetus to go forward or back. If I go towards his head he will go back, if I come up behind he will go forward, but somewhere between these two points, usually approxi­mately two-thirds the way along the body from his tail, will be his neutral point. I may frighten him or something else may frighten him as I approach him, so that he starts racing round the box again, and if this happens I return to my corner and we start again from the beginning. But it will not take as long for him to settle this time, and eventu­ally I will get close enough just to touch his side with the tips of my fingers, and then slowly I work my fingers in a circular motion. This is a very basic tiling with horses.

When a foal is frightened he will run back to his mother, and she will caress him with her nose. To simulate this move­ment is very reassuring to the horse: in effect I am saying 'it is quite all right, nothing will hurt you.' Also when two horses approach each other they will stick their heads out and just touch each other with their noses. Sometimes they will touch nose to nose, and sometimes they will do it on the side. At the same time they will be blowing at each other Or one will blow whilst the other touches with his nose. They will be saying 'who are you, where do you come from.' Then, provided there is no hostile movement, they will approach closer, and this is what I do. From caressing the horse with the tips of my fingers on his coat, I start caress­ing him with my hands, slowly working myself closer to him and talking to him in an even voice until I have got my body right up against him. Then I very slowly work my arm over his back until it is over the other side of him, putting considerable pressure and weight upon my arm. What I am saying to him now is 'you are quite safe, I am here'. When two horses are frightened, or when a lot of horses are frightened, they will bunch together, pushing against each other, and pushing their necks and heads across each other. They do this to reassure each other. They are saying 'do not worry, you are quite safe, I am here', the more frightened and nervous horses getting re­assurance from the steadier and quieter horses. Now since our necks are only six inches long, it is impossible for me to lean across and put my head and neck across the horse, as a horse would do. So instead I use my arm and hand to simulate the movement of the horse's head and neck. I use the tips of my ringers as a horse would use his nose, and I use the rest of my hand as he would use his head, and I use my arm as he would use his neck, so that at this stage the horse is understanding what I am saying completely.

Up to this point, I have used three of the four methods of communication. I have used my voice to reassure the horse, I have used signs and I have used e.s.p. but the whole time the horse has understood what I was saying and exactly what I was doing, since I have used the language another horse would use, and my actions have been actions that he is accustomed to. At no time have I forced the horse to do anything, because he has always been free to move away from me. At no time, apart from the first time I went into the box, has he been frightened, and I have not done anything to antagonise him. At this stage I would normally leave the horse alone for two or three hours, give him something to eat and go and have my own lunch. I would then come back to him after lunch and go through the same process again. At the end of two or three days he would then accept me as another horse. The whole key to the method is getting the horse to want to do what I want him to. A young horse always tends to be nervous and curious and wanting reassurance. A foal will get this from his mother, who will nuzzle him, as I use my fingers. The mare will be telling her foal it is quite all right. When I use my fingers in a similar way, I too am re­assuring Mm. If flight is impossible for a horse, he will seek reassurance by physical contact with his fellow horses by bunching together, and I give him the reassurance of my body. When I get on to him at a later date, I will ease my body across him. Thus I will be increasing his confidence by giving him a feeling much the same as he will get from another horse leaning his head and neck across him. Each time and with each movement I am saying 'it is quite all right, do not worry.'

For the next week or ten days, I will follow a pretty set routine. First when feeding and watering the horse I will gentle him three times a day. Each time I feed him I spend ten minutes gentling him until he looks upon me as another horse, and treats me as he would treat another horse, and during this time I will be making a mental note of the sounds and signs he uses to convey each of the forty-seven messages – though in the normal everyday he will be using only about thirty of them. I will know I have finished this stage of gentling when I go out in the morning and he sticks his head out of the door and shouts 'where is my bloody breakfast'. If then, when I take the feed in, he pushes me out of the way to get at his feed saying 'get out of my way you stupid fool, I am starving', I know he looks upon me as another horse, and understands and trusts me completely. I will also know by this time the temperament and character of the horse. I will know whether he is a nervous timid animal who needs to be coaxed and reassured all the time, or a placid easy-going horse that will do anything for a quiet life, or a very domi­nant and strong character. What I would do at the next stage of the gentling depends upon the disposition. If the horse is nervous and constantly needs reassuring we go on very gently and slowly, always moving quietly and always reassuring, telling the horse how clever and intelligent he or she is. The easy-going horse is also very simple to deal with. But about one in five or one in eight of the horses we get is a very strong, dominant character, and he needs a certain amount of discipline. Above all such a horse needs telling that I am the boss of the herd, I am the one that controls the herd, and not him. This message takes a litde time to sink in, since that horse probably has been the boss of the herd where he comes from, and been accustomed to giving orders and not to taking them. But it is really quite simple, with a little time and patience, and by using the language the horse knows, to establish discipline in the method that the horse understands.

The way discipline is imposed within the herd is per­fectly straightforward and is most easily seen in a bunch of horses loose going down a road together. The boss horse (often a mare) will establish itself in the front, and if anything tries to pass or comes too close, the boss will swing her head round, threatening to punch the offender with her teeth. At the same time she puts her ears back and says 'go back you horrible little squirt.' If the offender still tries to pass, the boss will then punch with her teeth. If the offender persists she will then bite him as he goes by. Thus if anyone offends the code of behaviour of the herd re­tribution is instant, and the incident is usually over in a few seconds. Even if the offender does eventually get by, the horses will settle down again quite happily walking one after another. So if I find myself with a very strong charac­ter, who when I am feeding her in the morning tries to push me out of the way and says 'get away you horrible little-man', I retaliate immediately by swinging my fist at her in exactly the same manner as she would swing her head at an inferior horse. As soon as I swing my fist, she will jump back to her corner in the box, raising her head and looking at me, saying 'what the hell did you do that for.' Then she will come forward quite happily when I put the feed in the manger. This will go on for two or three days. When I go out in the morning she will say 'where is my bloody break­fast,' I will take it in to her, she will try to push me away and I will swing my fist saying 'go back I am boss.' Within three or four days, without any real fight and certainly without frightening her, I have established that I am the boss of the herd, and she has to do what I tell her. It is most unlikely that at any time when I swung my fist at her I would actually make contact with any part of her body: I am only miming the threatening gesture. Then, once I have established my herd dominance, we are ready to go on to the next stage and for me to start mounting and riding her.

Horses come to us for gentling from all over the country, but mainly they come from within an area of fifteen or twenty miles. When they arrive it is not always convenient for us to gentle them straight away, so we turn the initial part of the work over to one of the other horses. We let the horses do an awful lot of the gentling for us. This is not quite as odd as it sounds, because all it involves is turning the new horse out into a nearby field with one of the steadiest and most established of die horses we have, who then plays schoolmaster. We will start feeding both of them every day. The first day when we take the feed down to them, the young horse will go hell for leather towards the far end of the field, while of course the old horse as soon as he sees the feed will come trotting over. Then we will put the feed down in two buckets about twenty yards apart, and talk to the old horse while he eats his feed, but not take any notice of the horse we are gentling. The horse we are gentling after a bit may come over to see what the old horse is eating,but he will not comewithin less than about twenty yards of us. When Jack or Tabby or Inatella or Rostellan, whoever it is, has finished his or her feed, we go away and leave them. Of course, Jack will then go and see if there is anything in the other bucket, and proceed to eat that, but we go away and leave him to it. Then the young horse will come over, first sniff what Jack was eating before and then go over and see what he is eating now. After a day or two the young horse will start eating out of the bucket, and as soon as he is doing this, we start talking to him as well as Jack. He may or may not rush off to the far corner of the field, but if he does he will come back to his bucket. Within a week or ten days I will be able to go straight up to the bucket, talking to him in a gentle voice, blowing at him through my mouth, and possibly even get a hand on him. By this time I will be an established member of his par­ticular herd, and he will accept me as a normal member of the establishment.

After he has been eating for about a week, we will start bringing the two horses into the yard for the bulk of their feed. This again is really very easy. My wife or someone else will put a halter on to the schoolmaster and lepd him in, and I will get the pupil eating out of the bucket, and I will pick up the bucket and walk to the yard. Since there is still food in the bucket, the pupil with rush after me. Within a very short time, he will just put his head in the bucket, I will lift it up and he will follow me anywhere, and in this way I have taught him to be led even though I have never put a halter on him. After two or three days, instead of holding the bucket behind me when I am leading him in, I will hold the bucket in front of me, so that he is walking beside me. Then it is only a very small step to having him walking beside me with my arm over his neck. When I have got him used to this stage, I can lead him in by simply putting my arm over his neck, and he will walk up with his head under my arm, and then it is just one straight step to putting a piece of string round his neck and leading him in. At this stage, by putting the bucket on the ground, and letting him put his head into the bucket, through the nose of the halter, I can put the halter on him. Again, at no time has there ever been a battle. Always when I have been working with him, I have been talking to him in a gentle voice, and as soon as I can get my hand on to him, I have been gentling him with my hand simulating the movement of the mare's nuzzle with my fingers and hand and giving him reassurance by leaning against him and putting my arm the other side of his body, the way another horse would put lu's neck. After about a week of this treatment he will know that the bulk of his feed is in the stable. When I open the gate he will try to push past me to get to his food more quickly. Again I will walk up the road in front of him, and as lie tries to pass me I will swing my fist at him, using the sign he knows says 'go back you horrible little animal'. He will throw his head up and put his brakes on and say 'what the bloody hell is the matter with you', and so we will proceed up the road. But in a day or two I will once more have established that I am the boss of the herd and not him, and when we go in he walks in behind me, and is not allowed to push past. Again at no time has he been frightened nor been made nervous or angry.

One of the most outstanding of our gentling successes was with a little mare called Spitfire. I first saw Spitfire as a twelve-three mare in Llanybyther market. She had a foal at foot and was supposed to be in foal again, and when she was driven into the ring with her foal, she went straight out over the crowd at the end. After a lot of trouble she was brought back in again, and a friend of mine bought her. I saw her from time to time over the next five or six months, until the following May my friend asked me to swop her for one of my horses. He confessed that he could do nothing with the bitch. It seemed he could not catch her, that she was not in foal, and he could not even get her to die stal­lion – he threatened to sell her at once for dog meat if I would not take her. I went up to have another look at her. She was a twelve-three thirteen-hand, very dark chestnut mare with a silver mane and tail and she was eight years old. She had had two or three foals, but she was now appar­ently barren. I could not see a strong healthy pony being shot like that, so we did the deal, and I went up at six o'clock that night to get her. This was a mistake, because if you are going to do any- thing with a horse which you know is difficult, you should never do it in the evening. You should do it in the morning, so that you have all the day in front of you. She was in the field by the yard with a number of other ponies, and we made a lane into the yard with gates, and there were three or four people around with sticks, which I did not like, but I could not say anything because it was not my farm. They all got to the other side of the gates, ready for what they expected to be a performance. But we did not have much trouble. We drove her into the yard with half a dozen other horses and then, after some trouble, into a loose-box. She did try to jump a six-foot wall, but fortunately when she got her legs on top of it, there was someone the other side who caught her a clout and she had to go back. I discovered afterwards that she had previously jumped that six-foot wall five times. She had also jumped the iron gates which were over four-foot-six high, and later I was to see her jump a three-foot-six post and rails with a ten-foot drop the other side. My friend assured me that they had tried to get her into the loose-box many times before, but that this was the first time they had managed it. This was probably because we had taken the horses into the yard very slowly and very carefully, and instead of trying to chase them in, we had opened the yard gate, and let the other ponies of the herd walk in slowly. Since we were not trying to drive Spitfire in, she had followed the others. We were never within twenty yards of her. And once we got them all into the yard she could not jump out over the gates. Then we got them from the big yard into the small yard. To get these horses a matter of fifty yards took us nearly half an hour, but we never hurried them, just edging them the way we wanted them to go.

Having got" the whole herd into the big stable, we then proceeded to let them out one by one. Three times Spitfire came to the door and tried to get through it, and three times the door was slammed in her face, but eventually we were left with Spitfire in a box about eighteen feet by four­teen. Now came the moment of truth, the time to halter her. So I went into the box with the halter and approached her, and of course she went round the box at a hell of a speed. When she steadied down I approached her again, and this went on for about half an hour, but gradually she slowed down until I could get my fingers on her, and as soon as I touched her, she swung round at me with her teeth and her front feet. So I punched her in the face and she retired to her corner of the box and I retired to mine, and we started again. Again after about twenty minutes I got my fingers on her, and she came at me again. I punched her on the nose again, and the two of us retired to our respective corners. This went on for well over two hours, and I could see we were getting nowhere. Each time I touched her, she attacked me, I punched her on the nose and we retired to our corners. And since it was getting dark I had to do something quickly. So the only thing I could do was to get a fourteen foot gate and put it across the box. Then I slowly edged her up to the wall. I got her about half way up towards the wall, when Spitfire went back on her hocks and came straight over the gate. So I started again. After about twenty minutes I finally got her right up against the wall, so that I could get my hand on her. I eased my hand up her neck, she managed to swing her head round and take a piece out of my arm, so again I went back. And as I went back a little bit, she came out under the gate, lifting it with her head, so I started again. Always talking to her quietly, gently and peacefully, again I got her up against the wall of the loose-box and got my hand on her and eventually I managed to slip the halter over her head and tighten it up.

Once I got it tightened and knotted under the chin, however, came the problem of leading her out. But this was not as difficult as it seemed. I put a second halter rope on the one I had, and then let her out from behind the gate, removed the gate from the loose-box, and I let her go round the shed past me. As she went past me I began shortening the halter rope. As I got nearer to her she came at me with her teeth and her feet, but I swung her past me and got into her shoulder so that I was beside her. I man­aged to catch hold of the halter right up under her chin. As Soon as I had done this, once I got my body beside her, she started to settle down. And she quietened slowly until she was walking round and round with me leaning on her. Then I led her out into the yard and managed to get her up into the trailer without very much trouble, tying her up short in the trailer so that I could release her easily. For­tunately for me, while she would come at me with her teeth and her front feet, she would not lack. Then I took her home and tied her up in the stable for the night.

It is necessary here to explain exactly what the mare and I had been saying to each other. Once I got her into the loose-box I could concentrate on her and I followed the normal procedure of settling her with my voice and e.s.p. When I got my fingers on her, she responded by attacking me: she had obviously been badly ill-treated in the past, and found that the only way of escape was to attack any­body who tried to touch her. So she attacked me, saying 'go back, go back, go back, or I will pulverise you,' in answer to which I punched her on the nose and said 'if you do not go back I will pulverise you,' until we both retreated to our own corners and we started again. Now given time, if I had started with her in the morning, as I should have done, we would have gone on like that for maybe four or five hours until I got my hand on her, and then I could have haltered her quite simply; but since we were running short of time and daylight, and the worst tiling in the world would have been to have gone away and left her for the night and come back again next day, I had to resort to other methods to get her haltered, methods I do not normally use.

For the next week, three times a day, I fed her and watered her and led her around and gentled her and handled her, until she was relaxing and trusting me. What is more she stopped trying to make a meal of me instead of the corn I was bringing her. After that came the next stage: to try to halter her. But since I had her in the big building, where she had been tied up in one particular stall, I let her loose in the building and of course she went round me hell for leather until she finally went into the stall again. I left her standing there for two or three minutes. I walked up to her, getting her to relax, using my voice, and being relaxed myself so that I could use e.s.p. on her. Then I managed to get my fingers on her side, and slowly get my arm over her neck and put a halter on her. After this I started turning her out with die other horses by night, but of course getting her in was somewhat time-consuming, since even if you had a lot of people standing right round the outside of the yard she would jump the smallest to get back out again. But over the course of the next two months she gradually got better, until it was only a question of opening the gate when the horses came in, and she would walk up the road and into the stable. I never had any trouble riding her and from the first time I got on her, I could direct and control her entirely by using e.s.p., and she turned out to be a wonder­ful ride – and a fantastic jumper of course. But it took a very long time before she was cormn; in happily and it took me nearly nine months before I could shoe her without difficulty. It was because I always talked to her in a language she understood that she very slowly recovered from her hatred of mankind, and eventually became very fond of me.

The following winter she was turned out with the other horses, and by about Christmas she would come up to me in the field and take a feed out of the bucket, and I used to lead her into the stable with her nose in the bucket without any difficulty. By the end of June, she had settled down and was absolutely quiet, though she remained a very hot, keen little ride and was not suitable for a beginner. So I sold her to a young couple down in Glamorgan and they were very pleased with her, until the woman started a baby and the husband decided the mare was a bit too much for her. So they brought her up to Llanbyther once more to sell her. As soon as I got into the market I knew she was there. I could feel it. I went straight to the big stable, and there was my beloved Spitfire. I had regretted selling her, and could not let her go again, so I bought her back and she is now in foal to an Anglo-Arab stallion. I hope she will have a foal half as good as she is. She was a case for which gentling was the only system that could possibly have done anything. If we had not had her, she would have been shot.

Of course I much prefer handling a very difficult horse to one that is easy and straightforward. It gives me enor­mous pleasure when a horse which is completely impos­sible to handle or ride starts enjoying liis work and wanting to do well.

It is only after I have got a horse going steadily and quietly that it is time to start riding her. I do this quite simply. When I go to the box on the morning I am going to start riding a horse, I always go through the same routine. First I start gentling for about five minutes. When she stands still I get my fingers on to her just where the barrel begins to narrow to the girth. She will twitch her skin, standing with one ear forward and one back, while I go round and round with my fingers. 'There's a clever girl.' Now the second set of fingers, both hands flat into her body. Bigger circles, lean on her, working forward and over the back, both sides of the neck. She takes one step for­ward, so work back a little until she settles, and stands well with both ears forward. Now her muscles are relaxing, tension is going out of her, mentally we are in tune. Work forward, up the neck. She has an itch under her chin, so scratch it. Ready now for the halter, work back, get the halter, work forward, halter on from far side of the neck, over the ears. I tighten the very loose chin rope and I give her to my wife to hold, get the saddle with girth and stir­rups flapping, put the saddle over her and on to her. She tenses and walks forward. My wife, who has been holding her and gentling her, keeps gentling her, walks with her. I lift the saddle off, she stands sdll. On with the saddle again, gently with one hand under the tummy catching hold of the girth, buckle one strap loosely, talking, talking all the time. Buckle the second strap tighter. Tighten the first strap, now get the girth as tight as possible. She will object and walk round the box, but my wife is still with her, talking,' gentling. She stands still. Tighten some more, get the bridle, a soft egg-butt snaffle – ease it on. Into her body, gentling her on her shoulder, on her flank, lift my left leg. My wife eases me on to her, I lie across her. She walks forward, I slide off, and walk with her, until she stands. Ease on again, leg over, slowly upright, sdll talking, still gentling, feet into the stirrups. She walks round die box, she stands, my wife ties the halter rope round her neck, and opens the door and goes out. She follows, looks out of the gate to the road up to the mountain. Click my tongue, we will walk through the door, out of the gate, and up the road, my wife walking four or five yards in front. Forty or fifty yards up the road I say'whoa-a-a',and pull the reins gendy. My wife stops, and so does the mare. I click my tongue, my wife goes forward, and the mare follows. Forty yards, 'Whoa', and we all stop. Click my tongue and we start. After doing diis three or four times, she will be stopping and starting on command, and-so we turn round and go home, still talking, talking, still stopping and starting every thirty or forty yards. But my wife is now fifty yards behind us. Into the yard, and into the stable, slide off quickly and quietly.

When you are catching a young horse either in a field or a stable, or putting your hand on him, prior to gentling him, never approach his head, never from behind, always approach at a right angle, to the middle of the body. Get yourself mentally relaxed and in tune with your horse. If you and your horse are in tune, and drinking on the same wavelength, you can get away with an awful lot of mistakes. But if you are at odds witii each other, you are in trouble from the start, and you will be fighting all die time. We always try to work our horses in a confined space, approxi­mately ten foot by ten foot, because we find this gives maximum physical and mental contact, and at the same time gives die horse enough room to get away from us. Up to the time you leave die loose-box, you are using e.s.p., sounds and signs to relax and setde your horse, but to get movement and direction you must use telepathy as well. You visualise where you want to go, so that the horse wants to go tiiere as well. The whole time you are trying to get the horse to want to do what you want him to do. In the early stages your assistant either walks in front of you or leads you. But you will find that die horse very quickly learns die words of command to which he naturally responds: a slowly drawn-out 'whoa' to stop, and a clicking of the tongue to start. He does not understand naturally words like 'walk on', 'trot on', though he will learn them later. The bit is hardly used at all, and you ride always with a slack rein. You settle well down in the saddle with your feet well home, to give you greater control if anything does go wrong. (The idea that there is only one correct way to ride a horse is wrong: you adapt your technique to the occasion. Terry Biddlecombe's steeple-chasing seat would win few show-jumping contests. Mr. Laurence's dressage seat would not win Lester Piggott many races. And as was clear on television, Harvey Smith's show-jumping seat is a little insecure when riding round Aintree. So when riding a young horse, you require a seat adapted for that purpose: one that gives you maximum security, not one in which you have your bust and backside stuck out and your toes bal­anced precariously on the edge of the stirrup.)

The most important tiling to remember is that the whole time you are talking to the horse, you are being entirely and completely natural. As far as the horse is concerned he is enjoying what he is doing and you should be enjoying it as well. You should be in tune with the horse mentally and understand exactly what he is saying to you. You under­stand what he is saying when he tenses his muscles, you watch the angle of his ears and any sounds or signs he makes. But most of all you can sense what he is thinking and he can sense your relaxation and your happiness.

The simplest way to back a horse is one we very often use, especially if we have a horse out in the field and bring it in every day. After we have been bringing it in for a fortnight or three weeks, I pull him in to the bank just outside the field and let him eat the grass on the bank. I lean across him and let him carry me to the yard. After a few days of doing this, I simply put a leg across him and ride him in and out in a halter. He takes it all as a matter of course. This is part of the natural habit of his life, and he is beginning to learn the signs and sounds that he will assod- ate with his conversations with human beings. When he is quite accustomed to me riding him in and out of the field, it is only a very short step from taking him and his com­panion out for, half an hour. I may do this riding him bareback in a halter, or I may put a bridle and saddle on him. When I start doing this I start teaching him to stop and start, but only in spells of three or four minutes at a time. I take the horse out with his companion every day for twenty minutes to half an hour, with two or three schooling spells of three or four minutes each.

Sometimes, for demonstration purposes, we can and do take a wild horse from the mountain and have him riding quite quietly within half an hour or an hour, simply by using signs and sounds the horse understands. But of course normally e.s.p. and telepathy are used on a horse that has been handled and is quite tame, and it is merely a question of getting in tune with him straight away and getting him to do what you want him to do. In getting a horse to do what you want him to do by our methods, you do not have to train him to answer any set words of com­mand: there is no reason at all why he should know the words 'walk on' or 'trot'.

There is a story of a poacher who was stopped by the local policeman and accused of using his dog for poaching. He told the constable that his dog would not hunt rabbits, to which he got a rude answer, so he said 'well I will show you.' So he took the dog and the policeman into a field where there were plenty of rabbits, and said 'Go on boy, catch one.' The dog stood where he was. The more he said 'go on and catch one' the more the dog stood where he was, so the policeman gave up in disgust, and went away. As soon as he had gone out of sight, the poacher turned to his dog and said 'get to heel', and the dog straight away shot out and caught a rabbit. Human words of command, in short, mean nothing to an animal in themselves, and have to be taught. But if you use signs, sounds and signals that the horse understands then you will get a natural response, and it -makes the training of your horse infinitely easier.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 687