14 THE COW 



matter how long neglected, to fail to welcome the 

 coming of the master by crowding around him with 

 long bleating of welcome. 



So, too, we must not blame the bull because he 

 is sometimes sullen and often wild and dangerous, 

 for after all, he is merely true to the instincts by 

 virtue of which he went lowing at the head of his 

 band of females and fought off his rivals and held 

 his place only by the ordeal of combat. The life 

 we condemn him to lead is itself the tragedy of the 

 farm world, and as he stands wearing out his 

 years in solitude and loneliness, chained by his 

 nose in a darkened stall, I wonder does he ever 

 have flashes of hereditary memory or tantalizing 

 dreams of a far-off time when he stalked the wood- 

 land at the head of his herd, master of all he met, 

 and the valleys echoed to his roar and the earth 

 trembled to his battle charge? May we not fairly 

 assume that the fierceness of bulls is now the com- 

 paratively feeble survival of a once most vital but 

 now long disused character, which we may sup- 

 pose is slowly dying as the generations pass? We 

 must not blame him for what he cannot help. He 

 may never be a playfellow for our children, and 

 we must always consider him as a potentially dan- 

 gerous brute whose pent-up instincts may suddenly 

 flame forth in uncontrollable fury; yet even the 

 bull is not insensible to the power of kindness and 

 we must use him with gentleness, remembering 

 what his nature bids him be. 



