IN SUMMER FIELDS. 27 



antipathy does actually result from a vaguely 

 inherited instinct derived from the days when 

 the ancestor of our kine was a wild bull, and 

 the ancestor of our dogs a wolf, on the wide 

 forest-clad plains of Central Europe. When 

 a cow puts up its tail at sight of a dog enter- 

 ing its paddock at the present day, it has 

 probably some dim instinctive consciousness 

 that it stands in the presence of a dangerous 

 hereditary foe ; and as the wolves could only 

 seize with safety a single isolated wild bull, 

 so the cows now usually make common cause 

 against the intruding dog, turning their heads 

 in one direction with very unwonted una- 

 nimity, till his tail finally disappears under 

 the opposite gate. Such inherited antipathies 

 seem common and natural enough. Every 

 species knows and dreads the ordinary ene- 

 mies of its race. Mice scamper away from 

 the very smell of a cat. Young chickens run 

 to the shelter of their mother's wings when 

 the shadow of a hawk passes over their heads. 

 Mr. Darwin put a small snake into a paper 



