Up to this time, Mr. Rarey, who had gone to the circus to see how Cruiser would behave himself in public, had sat calmly looking on; but when matters got to their worst, he left his seat and went down into the ring. The crowd paused to see the result. Mr. Rarey stood as still as a statue, holding up his hand and calling, "Cruiser! Cruiser!" The horse looked uneasily at the motionless figure but, soon recognizing the voice, approached slowly, extending his nose. Mr. Rarey let him approach and, when he was quite near, went to him, stroking him softly on the face. The maddened horse was again an affectionate slave and in three minutes was lying prostrate with Mr. Rarey cracking the whip about his ears with perfect impunity. The result of the evening's adventure was the conviction that the most perfect system of horse-taming, or of doing anything else, is absolutely valueless, if put into the hands of persons who lack the courage, patience and judgment which are indispensable in reducing it to practice. It is needless to add that Cruiser was not again permitted to appear in that circus.

One of the most thrilling of the exhibitions that Mr. Rarey gave in England was given November 9, 1859, when he tamed a powerful and beautiful thoroughbred stallion. It was, said a chronicler of the event, a mortal combat between man and beast. The moment the animal appeared, it was evident that the tamer's powers would be tested to the utmost. The horse looked at the audience, stood on his hind feet and ploughed up the ground; he roared in fury and kicked; he snapped at the groom and at Mr. Rarey and bit his own flesh severely in his passion. He tore to pieces every strap put upon him, hurling to the ground the groom who had come to Mr. Rarey's assistance. At one time the horse broke completely away and stood for a moment a victor in the midst of the excited audience. Two men came to Mr. Rarey's aid, but they were unable to hold the animal which scattered men and everything else around him like chaff. He was bathed in white foam and clouds of vapor arose from his body. At one moment he tossed up the straw, at another he sent the strong barriers flying; for a time he stood alone in the arena, roaring furiously and tearing with his teeth at everything within reach. Mr. Rarey, having rested from the first encounter, approached the horse, and then began a contest which no one who witnessed it can ever forget. It was a struggle of art and tact against overwhelming strength. For an hour the battle continued; now the man had gained the mastery, now the horse; the animal, touching the earth, seemed to derive fresh strength. At last, Mr. Rarey extemporized a strap from the fragments of the broken bridle and gained his first step to conquest. Still the horse fought fiercely, rising and plunging in all directions, endeavoring to bite his tamer or trample him down. A long struggle ensued. The contest had lasted an hour and a half, when at length the horse stood quiet, thoroughly subdued, allowing Mr. Rarey to strike his front and hind hoofs together, to jump over him and pull him about at will. After mounting the horse and concluding his lecture from that position, Mr. Rarey led him around the arena with a straw. The exhibition proved that, whatever tact and science he possessed, he also had most extraordinary muscular power., coolness and courage. No ordinary man would have ventured to contend to the last with so formidable and dangerous an antagonist. On this occasion, as on all when Mr. Rarey appeared, there was in a measure a reproduction of the exciting scenes of the Roman amphitheater, with none of the cruelty. There were the beautiful horses entering the arena, with flying mane and dilated nostrils - wild, vicious, neighing, snorting, pawing the earth and placing themselves in a succession of fine attitudes, rushing sometimes at, and sometimes away from the man who was to show that he was their master. For the most part, the horses were brought before the audience without any preparation, not even the trainer knowing beforehand the character of the animal. This plan gave to each performance the interest of originality and put to the greatest test the judgment and skill of the tamer.

There were those who thought Mr. Rarey took risks too great, particularly when, in demonstrating his complete mastery of the horse, he was accustomed to put his head between the horse's hoofs. This latter brought to Mr. Rarey an anonymous protest which is marked by such admiration and good will that it is worth reproducing. It read:
"SIR: The interest and admiration with which I witnessed your exhibition on Saturday last induce me to take the liberty of animadverting on one part of it. No doubt, your great experience enables you to judge with a certain approximation to accuracy of the degree of submission to which you have brought a horse. But still. as no rule is without an exception, I was sorry to see you run an apparent risk that was quite unnecessary, when you lay down with your head between the animal's hind hoofs. The act was striking---and why? Because every one felt be was assisting at a wager, in which you stalled your life on your knowledge of a horse's temper. Now, one of two things: Either this implied wager is a real one, in which case all people of reflection would think the chances were too unequal to make it justifiable, no man having a right to risk his life without an adequate motive; or it is a certainty and, in point of fact, without any risk at all. And in this latter case I cannot but feel that an action which seems an appeal to the vulgar feeling which takes delight in seeing others in positions of danger that the onlookers would themselves shrink from, is unworthy of the reality, the absence of sham and humbug that characterize the rest of your proceedings. As a further excuse for the liberty I am taking, allow me to mention that, having just now described your victory over the King of Oude and also expressed the feeling that I have above stated to two ladies (one of whom was a pupil of yours last year), it is in obedience to their commands that I thus write. It is useless to sign my name, but permit me to subscribe myself an admirer of pluck, daring and intelligence."