WILD HORSES OF EXMOOR.

Mataura Ensign, 16 January 1914, Page 5

WILD HORSES OF EXMOOR.

A DAY OF ADVENTURE. If the rest of the world imagines—--1 luckily—that the annua) fair held oa the hist Thursday of October in liampton is the usual io,v of life expressed by iNtenni organs, nobody on this night oil the. roads descending from the Efmoor lulls was allowed to think of it. I he droves ot \i iltl ponu\s may be all the fun of Bampton Fair, hut when t.hev are only a great rushing sound oil a dark night in a narrow Devonshire lane you have to show remarkable agility to ged the laugh in the right placo Between wild horses and cattle with long horns charging out. of nowhere, it is better not to try to got to Bampton the night before. Self-preservation. Only those in perfect health, who enn iloap 10ft from a mark at the iirst shout —tilore is no time to make inquiries first—should visit this f&ir. The ponies and cattle have never boon to town hefore, and get frightfully excited about it. They pour in sudden torrents round side turnings, or unexpectedly eni:n from a placid group in the middle of the road and depart express, followed by men on horseback and a populaco with ash. sticks, (ioodncss kflows how far they go then. The men who go after them do not come back for hours and hours. It is no good waiting, when a drove of Exmoor ponies has stampeded. Having descended from the place to which ono hurriedly climbed at the first alarm, one may as well go on, watching for the next outbreak, which is sure to bo soon. Because of these tumults Bampton barricades its sidewalks and house-fronts #n the day of the fair. Farm waggons are spread before the houses as far as they will go, and are eked out with scaffold poles and ladders. A Difficult Handful. About 600 ponies came into Bampton for the fair. These ponies are bred on the.moors, and run there as wild as the mative red' deer. A foal—or "sucker," as it is called — is so small that it could be tucked under the arm, when in the stillness of death. They are shaggy and heathercooled little creatures, with shapely leas and feet, and very charming and "intelligent heads. The Exmoor does not bite or kick, but he is hysterical, and a shocking handful when in the throes. In some apple orchards behind an inn the herds are sold by auction. The orchards are divided into pens, into which the ponies are driven. The pens are built of tree branches and hurdles not less than four feet hijfh, because the Exmoor takes af standing leap finely, like a stag. The auctioneer sits high in an improvised stand, with the interested Jadies. Before him is the show ring. Six perspiring attendants struggle on with a horse, which seems to have no beginning and no end, and the bidding starts promptly. " Withdrawn." "Now then, gentlemen, what offers for this purebred Exmoor, the right t color audi the right shape—one pun—'one pun five—one pun ten—hold; him, 'Jim—one pun fifteen—hurry up, gents; bid for him while he's here—two pun—there he goes—l toldi you so —this lot has withdrawn himself—bidding's off, gents." The best place, to watch tlie remarkable scene is in one of the apple trees beside a pon. The ponies roll mercurially about the enclosure below, cocking up impudent glances to the tree. Dams are there! with their tousled and | weather-stained foals, the foals which look like bundles of lively coooanut j fibre with bright eyes. They do not run ; j they dance. Then five or six attendants enter the enclosure to select another animal. The horses are convulsed, and by instinct the ono selected knows he is the victim. He jams himself into the bunch. The men throw themselves upon him, and for some seconds the affair looks like calamity, v. Sometimes a man's face appears in the heaving sea of brown hair, and sometimes a boot which wavos round and sinks again. The herd flies apart, and the attendants aro found in the mud, sprawling ever an inert ragged hale. Tho bale explodes, blowing up into hair and hooves; and the wrestling match which follows has a heart-stop-ping effect on spectators. Sporting and Sportive.

The ponv is not vicious, and l does not seem frightened. It is a sport, and apparently lias backed itself at long odds not to lie separated from its pals. Sometimes the pony is nearly in the show ring, and sometimes it is back iu the herd. Let the auctioneer wait. But at last, three men at its head and two at its tail, it is pushed into loneliness in the show ring, where it looks fixedly at the audience, nose up, and neighs derisively. Most <,f these Exmoor ponies go. poor things, from tho hills to the Welsh coal mines. But a good many become the pets of children, obviously their proper destiny, when they haive been/ nieelv combed.