THE BEAUTY OF CATTLE 75 



angry. Some have enormous horns, bent like the bow 

 of Ulysses ; in others, one horn curls up and the other 

 down, lending a disreputable jauntiness to their unkempt 

 heads. Some are orange-yellow ; others the colour of 

 old dead wood or smoky glass. Others are tawny and 

 shaggy like a water-spaniel. Even the railway journey 

 and the show does not subdue their irascible Celtic 

 minds ; and one rugged Highlander, after being hauled 

 in by a dozen reluctant drovers, was, in order to secure 

 peace, blindfolded with a sack, beneath which he sulked 

 like a Skye-terrier in disgrace. No greater contrast 

 could be imagined than that presented by these lineal 

 descendants of the great bos urus of the Caledonian 

 forest, and the placid, silky -coated shorthorns, the 

 latest triumphs of domestication. The prize shorthorn 

 heifer was, perhaps, the ideal of a nice, good-tempered 

 * cushy ' cow. The white coat shone like ivory satin on 

 her back ; her black eyes and eyelashes set off her 

 shapely head ; her ears just brushed her pink horns, 

 and her forehead was starred with little velvet curls. 

 The neat, white, cotton-plaited headstall which con- 

 fined her did not prevent her pushing her muzzle into 

 every extended hand to seek for food, and she tossed 

 her head, when they were without a gift, in the keenest 

 disappointment and mortification. Compared with her, 

 the tiny black Kerry cows looked mere pigmies. Yet 

 their form was equally perfect, and their quick vivacious 



