Now, a horse that, in a country often rough and difficult, marches, gallops, ascends, descends, endures unparalleled privations, and goes through a campaign with spirit, with such a weight on his back, is he, or is he not, a war horse? THE HORSES OF THE SAHARA. To a pastoral and a nomadic people, roaming our vast grazing grounds, and whose numbers bear no proportion to the extent of their territories, the horse is a necessity of life. With his horse, the Arab trades and travels, looks after his numerous flocks, distinguishes himself in battle, at weddings, and at the festivals of his marabouts. He makes love, he makes war: space is nothing to him. Thus, the Arabs of the Sahara still give themselves up with ardour to the rearing of horses. They know full well the value of blood, they pay great attention to crossing the breed, and try every means to improve the species. The state of anarchy in which they have lived in these latter times has naturally modified some of their habits, but it has effected no change in this condition of their existence—the breeding, perfecting and training of horses. The love of the horse has passed into the Arab blood. That noble animal is the friend and comrade of the chief of the tent. He is one of the servants of the family. His habits, his requirements are made an object of study. He is the burden of their songs, the favourite topic of conversation. Day by day in the gatherings outside the _douar_, where age alone enjoys the privilege of speech, and which are marked by the decorous behaviour of the listeners, seated in a circle on the sand or on the turf, the young men add to their practical knowledge the counsels and traditions of their seniors. Religion, war, the chase, love, and horses, inexhaustible subjects of observation, make regular schools of these open air meetings, in which warriors are formed and develop their intelligence in collecting a mass of facts, precepts, proverbs, and sententious sayings, the application of which will only too frequently occur in the course of the perilous life they have to lead. It is thus they acquire that knowledge of horse-flesh which we are so astonished to meet with in the humblest horseman of a desert tribe. He can neither read nor write, and yet every phrase in his conversation rests upon the authority of the learned commentators of the Koran, or of the Prophet himself. "Our lord Mohammed declared"—"Sidi-Ahmed-ben-Youssef says in addition"—"Si-ben-Dyab relates"—And you may take him on trust, this learned ignoramus, for all these texts, all these anecdotes, which for the most part are only to be found in books, he for his part derives from the _tholbas_ or from his chiefs, who, unconsciously come, as it were, to a mutual understanding, to develop or maintain among the people the love of the horse, useful precepts, sound doctrines, and the best rules of hygiene. The whole is sometimes tainted, no doubt, with gross