While we were at Tezcuco, Mr.Christy used to ride one of Mr.Bowring's horses, a pretty little chestnut, which carried him beautifully, and had cost just eleven dollars, or forty-six shillings.

It had been bought of the horse-dealers who come down every year from the almost uninhabited states of Chihuahua, Durango, and Cohahuila, on the American frontier, where innumerable herds of horses, all but wild, roam over boundless prairies, feeding on the tall coarse grass.

Their keep costs so little, that the breeders are not compelled, as in England, to break them in and sell them at the earliest possible moment, and they let the young colts roam untamed till they are five or six years old.

Their great strength and power of endurance in proportion to their size is in great measure to be ascribed to this early indulgence.
It is very clear that when a horse is to be sold for somewhere between two and six pounds, the breeder cannot afford to spend much time in breaking him in.

The rough-rider lazos him, puts on the bridle with its severe bit, and springs upon his back in spite of kicking and plunging.
The horse gallops furiously off across country of his own accord, but when his pace begins to flag, the great vaquero spurs come into requisition, and in an hour or two he comes back to the corral dead beat and conquered once for all.