The subduing of a half-wild horse in the herd which is allowed during a portion of the year to roam the woods and hills, is also a feat frequently practised by the Circassian cavalier, either for the sake of securing the animal, or simply as an exercise in horsemanship. A rider or two armed with lassos plunge into the midst of the herd, and selecting one of the wildest of the stallions--for mares are not used under the saddle--secure him by throwing over his head the noose. Then the cavalier who is to make trial of his skill springs upon the back of the animal, which with dilated eyes and smoking nostrils exhibits the greatest consternation. And now commences the contest between horse and rider. Furious as well as frightened the brute speeds like an arrow over the hills or down the valleys. He turns and doubles, halts suddenly, rolls on the ground, crawls on his belly, dashes into the midst of the herd, and tries in all possible ways to get rid of the burden he has no fancy for. But the intrepid rider, self possessed, and constantly on the alert, sits upon his back as if a part of the animal, waving his hand in triumph after every struggle terminated in his favor; and there he continues to sit and hold the mastery until the strong steed, finally exhausted by his efforts, covered with foam, out of breath, and cowed in spirit, acknowledges the superiority of his antagonist. When tamed, however, the Circassian horse is both perfectly gentle and attached to his master. The pet brought up in the yard is as playful as a kitten. The children gambol with him. His master fondles him, patting his neck and kissing his head. On festal days and occasions of ceremony he is decked out with red-cloth trappings; his neck is wreathed with many-colored glass beads; ribands are tied in his mane; and bunches of wild flowers nod from his foretop. The stranger may not praise the Circassian's wife or child for fear of shedding over them the malign influence of the evil eye, or for other reasons less fanciful; but to the praises of his steed the warrior's ear is ever open. The faithful animal is his companion on all his excursions; he drinks with him the waters which flow through the plains of the enemy; he looks down as well as himself from the rock on the passing column and the squares of infantry; he shares with him the dangers of the bayonet and the bullet; and, neighing, participates too in the hurrah of the onset and the shouts of victory. Trained to take part in the ambuscade, he will creep after his master like a dog, and lie crouching at his feet in silence. No unkind word is ever spoken to him; nor is he ever beaten; so that his spirit is unbroken, and his attachment to his lord is manifested by the pleasure he takes in his caresses, the gladness with which, snorting and pawing the ground, he receives him on his back, the pride of step and eye with which he bears him off, the fury with which he dashes into the