THE OX. 
Xlll 
HISTORY. 
with due solemnity by the elders of the tribe to supply its room. They were taught to become the guardians of the flocks and 
herds of the little community ; they kept watch against the attacks of beasts of prey. The Hyeena, we are told, however hungry, 
would not venture to attack a flock guarded by two or three of these courageous creatures, which, when in sufficient numbers, 
would even make head against the Lion in defence of their charge. They kept watch against the robbers of other tribes. They 
knew all the inhabitants of the kraal, men, women, and children, and manifested towards them the same respect which a dog displays 
to those who live in the house of his master. Whilst, therefore, there was no inhabitant of the kraal who might not with safety 
have approached the flocks, yet, should a stranger have attempted to do so, and especially a European, without being accompanied 
by a Hottentot, he would have been in great danger : the backleys would have come upon him at speed, and, unless he had fire¬ 
arms to defend himself, or had the means of escape to a tree, or was within reach of the shepherds, he would surely have been 
killed* Not only were these backleys employed to be the guides and protectors of the common flock, but others were trained for 
the purposes of war. Even still, these war-oxen are used by the Caffres and independent tribes of the interior. They are taught 
to share the fierce passions of their masters; to rush upon the opposing ranks, trample the men under their feet, and gore them 
with their horns .f 
Nothing seems more unlike the dull and apathetic temperament of the Ox than a love of distinction; yet that a feeling akin 
to this may exist, appears from a curious fact frequently mentioned. In the mountains of Switzerland, where a beautiful race of 
cows is reared, it is the practice to attach bells to the most trusty of the cows, that the sound may keep the herd together, and 
direct the herdsman to the place where they are pasturing. These cows are the pride of the cowkeeper : he has various sets 
of these bells, and on certain occasions the favourite cow has the finest and largest bell assigned to her, and the gayest trap¬ 
pings : the others have inferior bells, and less ornamented collars, in a gradation downwards to those to which no distinction is 
awarded. To deprive the cows of their wonted ornaments is to inflict upon them a punishment which they grievously feel, mani¬ 
festing their sense of humiliation by piteous lowings. On gala days a kind of procession takes place ; the herdsman is in the van, 
and next in order comes the favourite cow, leading the herd, ornamented with her tinkling bells, and gay apparel. Should another, 
from any cause, be made to take her place, she manifests her vexation by continued lowing, abstains from food, and attacks with 
fury the rival that has gained her honours. A certain cow, M. Latrobe informs us, who had long borne the badge of distinction, 
had just given birth to a calf, and was reckoned too feeble to bear her usual post in the honours of the day, and even the ordinary 
bell was thought to be too heavy for her. The gay procession moved on, but the poor cow that had been stripped of her accus¬ 
tomed honours did not share in the general joy : after a few steps she faultered in her pace : the attendants tried to coax her on, 
but in vain: she stopped, and at length lay down as if to die. An old herdsman soon divined the cause : he brought from the 
house a bell and collar, such as she had been used to bear : she no sooner felt the well-known appendage at her neck than she rose 
from the ground, bounded gaily as if in possession of her usual health, and, taking her place in the van, was from that moment 
as well as ever. It is known that a practice of the mountain peasants of Switzerland is to collect the herds by sounding a long 
wooden pipe, whose deep and simple tones, mellowed by distance, delight the ear. No sooner does the well-known sound reach 
the herd, than they all obey the signal, and hasten to the place of rendezvous. Should one from any cause, as from falls or 
weakness, be unable to keep pace with her fellows, she utters loud and painful lowings, as if calling for assistance, and testifying 
that it is want of power and not of will that makes her linger behind her comrades. The simple tones of the herdsman’s pipe form 
the well-known air of the Ranz des Vaches, which is known to thrill like a charm to the heart of the mountain Swiss when distant 
from his beloved land. 
Such is the creature which reason and conscience teach us to treat with humanity and justice. It is painful to say that it is 
too often made the victim of wanton cruelty. Who has not heard of those barbarous sports which yet are practised in the southern 
countries of Europe, where the bull, brought into the arena, is roused to phrensy, and put to a cruel death ? The bull-fights of 
Spain and Italy are yet the delight of all conditions of people in those countries, and afford the evidence of the power of habit to 
blunt the most natural feelings, and reconcile us to the most revolting spectacles. 
Throughout the kingdoms of Spain and Portugal are extensive forests, in which large herds of cattle find support, almost in a 
state of natural wildness. It is from these herds that the fiercest and strongest bulls are obtained, by a kind of hunting more 
dangerous than the subsequent combat in which the victims are to engage. The country people, from great distances, assemble, 
mounted on horseback as best they can, and armed with long staves, terminated by iron spikes. Lines being formed, they surround 
the herd, and endeavour to separate the bulls. This they do by galloping to a bull and goading him with their spikes; the animal, 
enraged, turns upon his assailant, and pursues him; but another horseman attacking him in a similar manner, the animal turns 
* Kolben, vol. i. 
d 
t Le Vaillant, vol. ii. 
