250 LEAVES FROM THE BOOK OF NATURE. 



The ancients say much of the delight with which the 

 grazing herd listens to the flute of the shepherd. The 

 Swiss, on his meadows and Alps, also knows full well how 

 exquisite is the ear of his magnificent cattle. There, in 

 far greater freedom than in the narrow valley below, in 

 the pure, bracing air of lofty mountains, with a clear, 

 blue sky above, and rich, fragrant pasture around them, 

 all their senses are sharper, all their instincts more fully 

 developed. The leading cow, with the largest of bells, 

 is not unconscious of her honor and station. She shows 

 it in her more stately gait, she affects a proud and haughty 

 carriage. Woe to the bold intruder who should dare to 

 precede her ! But woe also to the wanderer from another 

 herd! She knows, and they all know, in an instant, the 

 tone of a bell that belongs not to their set ; and, with 

 eager curiosity, often with savage hatred, they run to 

 meet the stranger, and show her no mercy. But oh ! the 

 grief, when the bell is taken from her! As upon leav- 

 ing the stable of her home, or her own favorite pasture 

 high on the mountain, so when she has to part with her 

 love and her pride, she will weep bitter tears ; and many 

 are the instances of cows that have died when deprived 

 of their harmonious ornament. 



Some animals, on the other hand, detest certain sounds. 

 The Sophist Acteon, in his seventeen books on the nature 

 of animals, speaks of the strong aversion Greek wolves 

 had to the flute, and tells the oft-repeated story of Phy- 

 tochares, the musician, who saved his life from the fangs 

 of a hungry pack by playing, with heroic perseverance, 

 on that instrument. The Far West of our own day has 



