CATTLE. 



him. Singly they can do nothing. Matters go from bad to worse, and cow life becomes 

 almost unendurable in the herd. Something has to be done, and that soon. The bully 

 in walking along gives some unoffending cow a sharp thrust in the ribs. Instead of running 

 off, as expected, the stricken cow wheels around, fury in her eyes, and, bellowing a war cry, 

 dashes head on for the bully. The boss is surprised, but gets to work as an expert, and the 

 rebellious cow is being rapidly whipped (these cattle fence with their horns); but the cry for 

 liberty is understood by the rest of the herd, and with an unanimous movement they all 

 turn on the tyrant, and if the herders do not interfere, they kill him. 



The bully, being whipped, turns to run, and to his horror finds that the whole herd is 

 after him. As one animal gets near him, he receives a vicious dig from a sharp horn. He 

 increases his speed, but soon another animal comes up to him, and another stab is the result. 

 The bully, with extended tongue and labored breathing, is leading the herd, and the herd, 

 with extended tongues and upright tails, are following steers, cows, calves, all bellowing 

 loudly, Kill him! kill him! And kill him they will, if the herders do not stop the 

 pursuit. 



After a lesson of this kind the bully is a marvel of gentleness and consideration. A 

 calf could whip him. Once I left my herd for an hour. On my return I was surprised to 

 find the cattle bunched around a deep pool in the ravine. They were evidently greatly 

 excited; the constant bellowing, the lashing of their tails, their craned necks as they looked 

 over the banks of the pond, all indicated that something was wrong. Running my horse and 

 swinging a heavy whip, I was soon among the cattle. They gave way for me. I rode up to 

 the pool. There, standing in deep water, was the bully, a ring of excited steers and cows 

 standing around him, but unable to reach him. I put a stop to the fun, and left the bully in 

 the water to cool off. I did not see him for a week. Then he joined the herd a private. 



If an animal in the herd gets badly wounded, it will be killed by the others if great 

 care is not exercised. The sound animals turn ruthlessly on the sick or wounded ones. 



It looks hard, and the unthinking observer jmarks on the cruelty shown toward one 

 another by dumb animals. It is simply an expression of the instinct of the animals, by 

 which they expect to ward off attacks of wolves, and to prevent their prowling about the 

 herd by removing the inducement to it. The animal is wounded, badly wounded; the 

 wolves smell him, and, from far and near, gather about him. The cattle, in their wild state, 

 constantly moved up and, down the water courses; so when they killed the sick animal, they 

 left the body behind. Now they kill the sick one for the same reason, and daily feed about 

 his carcass. 



In July the herd is fat; calves are doing well and are full of play; grass is plenty, and 

 the herd, as a whole, feel splendidly. They are easily amused, too. Jack rabbits are plenty 

 in Kansas, and are a never-failing source of amusement to the cattle. Accustomed to the 

 rabbits from their calfhood up, it is simply absurd to see the actions of the animals. A calf 

 finds a big jack rabbit, and, very naturally, is interested in looking at this wild beast. Cau 

 tiously approaching him, she gazes open-eyed at the small monster. Another calf joins her, 

 and they each regard the animal. Beginning to caper about it, the attention of the herd is 

 attracted, and they all come up to have a look at the jack. He is made to get up and jump 

 quaintly off. The cattle ail follow; the rabbit sits down, again to be forced up; and when 

 he again jumps off they caper around him, or, with pretended alarm, they bellow and run 

 away. 



Many men who came to Kansas in 1869 went into the cattle business, bringing Eastern 

 ideas with them. They very naturally built sheds to protect their cattle from the cold storms 

 of the winter. I did this, and made a mistake. The reason why sheds are not good is, 

 that the cattle stand under them when the cold winds blow, and refuse to leave the shelter 

 to feed or drink; and when weakened by this lack of food they lose vitality, and huddle 



