The following history was related by one of the shepherds to whom the circumstance occurred. "We were seven of us, grazing the sheep of a rich Bulgarian, on the steppe of Atkeshoff, and had a flock of 2000 sheep, and 150 goats. It was the month of March, and they were just driven out; the weather was mild, and the grass had appeared, but the wind was bitterly cold in the evening, and it began to rain. The rain soon turned to snow, and our wet cloaks were frozen as hard as boards. A few hours after, came a Siberian viuga, or snowdrift, from the north-east, whistling about our ears till seeing or hearing was impossible. We tried to find our way home, from which we were not far distant; but the sheep would not face the wind, and even the goats, who will face anything but a viuga, began to run before the storm. To prevent the flock from scampering away was impossible, and all that could be done was to keep them together. We had to race all night, and in the morning there was nothing but snow all round us. The viuga raged all that day, and the poor sheep were even more wild and frightened than in the night. Sometimes we gave up all as lost, but roused ourselves again, and ran with the screaming, bleating flock, while the oxen trotted after with the wagon, and the dogs came howling behind. The poor goats were all lost, or frozen to death the first day, in which we ran at least fifty or sixty versts, leaving a track of dead sheep behind us. In the evening the poor beasts were less wild, being exhausted by hunger and fatigue. Two of our party reported themselves sick, and crept under the mats and skins in the wagon, and the rest had only time to take a little bread and snow to save life.
"Night came, no house was near, and this was worse than the preceding. The storm was driving us upon the coast, and we expected to be blown with our stupid cattle into the sea. Another shepherd fell sick, and we thought that night would have been the last for us all. In the morning the wind shifted, and drove us towards some houses, which we saw through the drifting snow, but though they were not more than thirty feet away, it was quite impossible to make the foolish sheep turn aside. On they went before the wind, in spite of all we could do, and we soon lost sight of the houses. Their inhabitants, however, had heard the howling of the dogs, and about twenty came to our assistance. We then managed to turn the sheep, and drive them under sheds, and into houses. All the goats and five hundred sheep were lost. Many died after they got under shelter, for in their fright, they crowded so close together, that they were smothered. Half a verst farther, and we should have come to the coast, rising twenty-five fathoms above the sea."
The above gives a lively picture of sufferings which are unknown to us, and in which the dogs seem to have been less efficacious than our own excellent breed.
OXEN.
The widely distributed genus Bos, has horns in both sexes, and in it we find the largest of the Ruminantia. They, generally speaking, have comparatively short legs, and heavy massive bodies. The perfection of domestic oxen is said to be a resemblance to a box set upon four posts; but in some of the wilder species, an arched back is certainly a beauty. Their foreheads are very wide, and mostly flat; their ears large, and projecting from the sides of the head; their muzzle broad, destitute of hair, and always moist. A long ridge passes across the top of the forehead, from which proceed two horns, more or less curved, sometimes of great length, always tapering to a point, and having a bony core. Their neck is thick, and from it hangs a dewlap, which passes between the fore legs. The hoofs are cleft.
Of the origin of these Ruminants we know absolutely nothing, for they are spoken of as domesticated animals from the earliest times; and although there are such things as wild tribes now existing, we are not sure whether they were placed where they are with their present characters, or whether all are modifications of one pair, according to circumstances. The most conspicuous among them are the Zebu, the Buffalo, the Bison, and the bulls of various parts of the Old World. Those cattle which roam about in a free state in South America, New Zealand, and Australia, have not very long escaped from the dominion of man.
In India some of the heathen natives make a certain ox a sacred animal; the Brahmins worship it; and it is a distinct variety from the common working oxen, who are by no means treated kindly. The cherished sorts are very sleek and tame, and even voluntarily go up to strangers who have grass in their hands, and eat it from them. They are, however, troublesome, as all pets are, and no one will dare to check them, for they must not be struck. Near Calcutta, they often break into gardens, put their noses into pastrycook's and fruiterer's shops, and have not the least hesitation, when they are affronted, in going up to the offenders and giving them a poke with their horns.
The Zebus are spread over India, China, the Archipelago, Madagascar, and several parts of Africa. They are distinguished by a hump of fat between their shoulders, and they are as good for the saddle as for draught. They are more active and agile than we can imagine them to be, accustomed as we are to the slow, heavy pace of others of the tribe; they go with ease at the rate of six miles an hour, and travel for fifteen or sixteen hours in the day. Their paces are very agreeable, being wholly without the circular motion of the hind legs, which makes ours so tiring to ride. They will go over a five-barred gate, as well as the best hunter; are equally good for the plough, or for threshing corn, and the white are the most esteemed.