326 Next to the Ground 



blood-suckers, sends cattle to the refuge of 

 deep still pools, or deeper stiller thickets. 

 There they stand all day, hurrying out to 

 feed at night, or rather early dawn, when the 

 chill of the dew keeps flies and mosquitoes 

 inert. Milk cows running upon rich fresh 

 pasture fall back so much in milk, it is the 

 part of wisdom to stable and feed them. A 

 perfectly dark stable protects from flies. 

 Notwithstanding, cattle do not love it. Be- 

 yond all other domestic animals they keep 

 the tang of primal savagery, in spite of hav- 

 ing been for so long intimately dominated by 

 humankind. In hot weather they hate to be 

 penned at night, and are wily enough to hide 

 themselves toward sundown, and stand per- 

 fectly still in the thickets or high weeds, 

 until the cattle-driver has passed them by. 

 Bell cows have a hard time, but manage to 

 avoid sending out one betraying tinkle. Old 

 man Shack's cow always ran out, so toward 

 midsummer he hit upon the expedient of bell- 

 ing her tail instead of her neck. She 'd be 

 jest natchully bound ter make er racket then, 

 he said — nothing weth a tail could n't, no 

 tetch, keep hit still, weth them inseckses 

 a-chawin' an' a-chawin'. The scheme was 

 brought to naught, yet with some approach to 

 poetic justice. Old man himself undertook 

 to milk the cow, and got the belled tail so fair 



