The horse taken, next comes the breaking in, which is effected in a no less brutal manner than his capture.  The eyes of the unfortunate animal are covered with a bandage, and a tremendous bit, a pound weight or more, clapped into his mouth; the horsebreaker puts on a pair of spurs six inches long, and with rowels like penknives, and jumping on his back, urges him to his very utmost speed.  If the horse tries to rear, or turns restive, one pull, and not a very hard one either, at the instrument of torture they call a bit, is sufficient to tear his mouth to shreds, and cause the blood to flow in streams.  I have myself seen horses’ teeth broken with these barbarous bits.  The poor beast whinnies and groans with pain and terror; but there is no help for him, the spurs are at his flanks, and on he goes full gallop, till he is ready to sink from fatigue and exhaustion.  He then has a quarter of an hour’s rest allowed him; but scarcely does he begin to recover breath, which has been ridden and spurred out of his body, when he is again mounted, and has to go through the same violent process as before.  If he breaks down during this rude trial, he is either knocked on the head or driven away as useless; but if he holds out, he is marked with a hot iron, and left to graze on the prairie.  Henceforward, there is no particular difficulty in catching him when wanted; the wildness of the horse is completely punished out of him, but for it is substituted the most confirmed vice and malice that it is possible to conceive.  These mustangs are unquestionably the most deceitful and spiteful of all the equine race.  They seem to be perpetually looking out for an opportunity of playing their master a trick; and very soon after I got possession of mine, I was nearly paying for him in a way that I had certainly not calculated upon.

We were going to Bolivar, and had to cross the river Brazos.  I was the last but one to get into the boat, and was leading my horse carelessly by the bridle.  Just as I was about to step in, a sudden jerk, and a cry of ‘mind your beast!’ made me jump on one side; and lucky it was that I did so.  My mustang had suddenly sprung back, reared up, and then thrown himself forward upon me with such force and fury, that, as I got out of his way, his fore feet went completely through the bottom of the boat.  I never in my life saw an animal in such a paroxysm of rage.  He curled up his lip till his whole range of teeth was visible, his eyes literally shot fire, while the foam flew from his mouth, and he gave a wild screaming neigh that had something quite diabolical in its sound.  I was standing perfectly thunderstruck at this scene, when one of the party took a lasso and very quietly laid it over the animal’s neck.  The effect was really magical.  With closed mouth, drooping ears, and head low, there stood the mustang, as meek and docile as any old jackass.  The change was so sudden and comical, that we all burst out laughing; although, when I came to reflect on the danger I had run, it required all my love of horses to prevent me from shooting the brute upon the spot.