"THE LOWING HERD" 95 



the hen with horns that could have tossed her over 

 the highest of the mango-trees. But there was a smile 

 on his face the while, and the spectators knew, though 

 "Scotty" did not, that it was all a joke. Again and again 

 she flew in his face. Just as often he refused to take 

 her seriously, though all the pantomime of battle was 

 displayed. She cackled in impotent anger. He bel- 

 lowed with gratification. Not a fowl in the yard saw 

 the joke, and all the little chicks in adjacent coops 

 strained their necks to watch the battle and their voices 

 in shrill comments. Having made not the slightest 

 impression on the jovial little bull, "Scotty" retired, 

 feinting and scolding, while he, still blue mouldy for 

 a game, coaxed her by unmistakable gesticulation to 

 one round more. Twice during the night "Scotty" 

 dispelled the silences with loud exclamations of wrath 

 and defiance. She was fighting her battle again in 

 her dreams, and though I was not there to see, I am 

 very sure that the gentle bull beguiled his wakeful 

 moments with smiles. There are several white hens 

 in the yard, and whensoever one crosses his path the 

 bull, who does not pretend to discriminate, tosses his 

 head with an interrogative gesture. "Do j^ou want 

 to fight?" he says, and the hens flee — all except 

 "Scotty." 



The herd comprises a dainty little cow of most placid 

 disposition. Nothing disturbs her placidity, incites 

 her to hurry, or bewilders her. Cure the dove of its 

 timidity and shrinking and you will have a good proto- 

 type of Parilla, who, taking life easily and affably, is 

 fat and amiable. When she brought home her first- 

 born, mooing plaintively, he, big and fat for his age, 

 walked into the byre as a matter of course. Here 

 was the first evidence of heredity. It was patent that 

 Fillo Billaroo was born with a mind like that of his 



