On the other hand, the Japanese might learn from us the advantage of indirect laying of telescopic sights, of avoiding sky-line positions, of not always waiting for the enemy’s fire, and of moving their guns in action so as to give the infantry their full support at critical moments of attack. Many censures have been passed on the Japanese cavalry. It is only fair to admit that these judgments are based on observation of a few isolated units. No foreign _attaché_, and no foreign correspondent has seen even a troop of cavalry in action or on patrol. This is not a country for cavalry, as the Cossacks have found. In the absence of evidence to the contrary it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that the Japanese cavalry horse--like the artillery horse--is poor and weak and badly trained; that his equipment is not made on scientific principles, and that the Japanese are bad horsemen and worse horse masters. Most of the horses that we see are stallions, and are noisy and disorderly; the saddles are ill-fitting, and are often on the withers of the horse; the seat of the rider is not well balanced; the curb and snaffle are in constant use, even at a walk. The result of these defects was a very large percentage of saddle galls and fistulous withers. Having said this much in condemnation, let me give the opinion of a Japanese cavalry officer. There is, as we in Great Britain have long known, no more conservative soldier than the cavalryman--none more tenacious in upholding the traditions of the horse, the carbine, the lance, and the sabre in war. “You condemn our cavalry,” said the officer, “because they look poor and small by the side of your European horses. Well, our infantry soldiers are darker and smaller than the soldiers of Europe, yet they do very well, don’t they?” I had to admit this dangerous argument by analogy.