332 The Naturalist in La Plata. 
and finally turning they started off at a fast trot, 
following up the scent in a straight line, until they 
arrived at the place where one of their kind had 
met its death. The contagion spread, and before 
long all the cattle were congregated on the fatal 
spot, and began moving round in a dense mass, 
bellowing continually. 
It may be remarked here that the animal has 
a peculiar language on occasions like this; it 
emits a succession of short bellowing cries, like 
excited exclamations, followed by a very loud 
cry, alternately sinking into a hoarse murmur, and 
rising to a kind of scream that grates harshly on 
the sense. Of the ordinary ‘‘cow-music” [ ama 
ereat admirer, and take as much pleasure in it as 
in the cries and melody of birds and the sound of 
the wind in trees ; but this performance of cattle 
excited by the smell of blood is most distressing to 
hear. 
The animals that had forced their way into 
the centre of the mass to the spot where the blood 
was, pawed the earth, and dug it up with their 
horns, and trampled each other down in their frantic 
excitement. It was terrible to see and hear them. 
The action of those on the border of the living mass 
in perpetually moving round ina circle with dolorous 
bellowings, was like that of the women in an Indian 
village when a warrior dies, and all night they 
shriek and howl with simulated grief, going round 
and round the dead man’s hut in an endless 
procession. 
The ‘‘bulland red rag”’ instinct, as 1t may be 
called, comes next in order. 
