William Ross King, Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52
“ After a long, hot, and dusty canter with the post-riders, through the Ecca valley, I off-saddled, by a train of waggons outspanned on the green flats of Botha's Hill, to give my horse a roll, as he had now carried me nearly ninety miles, with only a short time for baiting at three places. The moment a Cape horse is off-saddled he rolls himself on the ground,—mud, rock, sand, or grass all alike; kicks up his heels in the air, rubs his neck and face on the earth, more like a dog than a horse; and after a shake is ready for the road again, and as fresh as if he had had a feed of corn. ”
