It required almost two hours of the hardest kind of riding to conquer
the horse, and to teach her that just as long as she held her head up
and behaved herself generally, the bit would not hurt her. She finally
gave in, and is once more a tractable beast, and I have ridden her
twice, but with the Spanish bit. She is a nervous animal and will
always be frisky. It has leaked out that the morning she bucked so
viciously, a cat had been thrown upon her back at the corral by a
playful soldier, just before she had been led up. Kelly did not like
to tell this of a comrade. It was most fortunate that I had decided
not to ride at that time, for a pitch over a horse's head with a skirt
to catch on the pommel is a performance I am not seeking. And Bettie
had been such a dear horse all the time, her single foot and run both
so swift and easy. Kelly says, "Yer cawn't feel yerse'f on her, mum."
Faye is quartermaster, adjutant, commissary, signal officer, and has
other positions that I cannot remember just now, that compel him to be
at his own office for an hour every morning before breakfast, in
addition to the regular office hours during the day. The post
commander is up and out at half past six every workday, and Sundays I
am sure he is a most unhappy man. But Faye gets away for a hunt now
and then, and the other day he started off, much to my regret, all
alone and with only a rifle.
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