two legs on one side together, and then the other two.  You jolt gently up and down without rising in the stirrups; and when once you are used to it the paso is not disagreeable, and it is well suited to long mountain-journeys.  Horses in the United States are often trained to this gait, and are known as “pacing” horses.  Another peculiarity in the training of Mexican horses is, that many of them are taught to “rayar,” that is, to put their fore-feet out after the manner of mules going down a pass; and slide a short distance along the ground, so as to stop suddenly in the midst of a rapid gallop.  To practise the horses in this feat, the jockey draws a lino ("raya”) on the ground, and teaches them to stop exactly as they reach it, and whirl round in the opposite direction.  This performance is often to be seen on the paseo, and other places, where smart young gentlemen like to show off themselves and their horses; but it is only a fancy trick, and they acknowledge that it spoils the animal’s fore-legs.

After much bargaining and chaffering we bought three horses for ourselves and our man Antonio, giving eight, seven, and four pounds for them.  This does not seem much to give for good hackneys, as these were; but they were not particularly cheap for Mexico.  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.  It is easy to teach him his paces afterwards.  The anquera—­as it is called—­is put on his haunches, to cure him of trotting, and to teach him the paso instead.  It is a leather covering fringed with iron tags, which is put on behind the saddle, and allows the horse to pace without annoying him; but the least approach to a trot brings the pointed tags rattling upon his haunches.  We bought one of these anqueras at Puebla.  It was very old, and curiously ornamented with carved patterns.  In the last century, these anqueras were a regular part of Mexican horse-equipment; but now, except in horse-breaking yards or old curiosity-shops, they are seldom to be seen.