The wonderful fact, in the cow parade, that reminds one of a fairy tale, is the way these horned creatures organize, of their own accord, and drill. They fall into line and march, as if they were playing soldiers, or were a company of real warriors, or cavalry horses, going to war. Each milker knows her place, and, if any young heifers try to be fresh, and show off too much, they get a hint from the horns of the old ladies of the herd, that they had better know and keep their place. Such snubs and punishments are [[114]]not forgotten. After such discipline, a young snip of a cow behaves better, until grown up. Then, with more sense, she takes and holds her place, in good bovine society.
The herds, when bound for the Alps, number from twenty to two hundred. Three magnificent cows, brindle, dun, or white, lead the procession and they feel their honors, as fully as a lieutenant, just fresh from West Point, feels his. On the neck of each, is a wide leather strap, often decorated with metal bosses, or knobs, to which is hung a bell, often as big as a bucket. Most proudly, with heads up in the air, the leaders step forward. The other cows, all having names, follow, each with a smaller strap and bell on her neck. Here are a few of the names, expressed in English: Star, Crow, White Stocking, Youngster, Mirror, White Horn, and Lady.
The boy who is on his first venture up with the herd, dressed in his best clothes, leads the flock of goats, which are put under his special charge. Each one has a name and he knows them all. They will give him plenty to do, for they are great tramps and vagrants. Nobody knows how a goat will behave. We get our word “caprice,” and “capricious,” from his Latin name.
Back of the columns, is the big sow, with her litter of little pigs, all of them. They are glad enough to go, and they look on the whole thing [[115]]as a picnic. For now, instead of living on dry winter feed, they will get the juicy grass and herbage of the summer pasture. Mrs. Hog is certainly proud of her young porkers, but her music is hardly up to the carillon standard, for it consists chiefly of grunts, and this is the only language, in which the education of the piggies is carried on.
Feeling quite as important as any, and always wanting to hurry along, and go ahead faster, is the dog Tiger. This pet of the family and the terror of the goats, that give him a butt, when he gets too lively, looks more like a mastiff, than a collie, or one of his cousins, the stately St. Bernard dogs.
Finally, as the rear guard, is the daddy of the family. He leads the horse, on which are packed and strapped the cheese caldron, for boiling the milk and cream. From his position, Daddy can round up the unruly members of the herd, cows, goats, or pigs, that have too much genius, or temperament, or are too original, or independent, to obey rules. Just as often, in a marching army, the rear guard is the place of honor, so the last cow, usually a superb animal, carries the milking stool between her horns.
The cows’ parade marks a heyday for the whole village. The girls are all out, and in their best dresses. Most of them will not see their [[116]]brothers, their beaux, or their lovers, until autumn. So they make the most of the fun for a day.
During the summer, and until October, there are few of the male sex, except old men and small boys, left in the mountain or dairy villages. Many are the farewells and handwavings, until the procession disappears around the curve of the mountains. Then the yodel music, the Ranz des Vaches, the Song of the Swiss, for centuries, is raised and echoed among the hills. The words are, in most cases, very old, and in a sort of French, that is never heard in Paris, or at the universities. The notes are very much as their Swiss ancestors sung them, before America was discovered. The words are, in many of the songs, quite witty. In one form or another, they are in praise of the work and craft of the cattle, or dairy men.
The yodel music will never die. The herds may change in breed, form, or numbers, but never the song. When heard near at hand, there is too much jingle, with many discords; but distance lends enchantment to the sound. When far away, all notes melt into sweetness and accord.
Once up in the regions near the sky, while the echoes, coming back from the peaks, make angelic sweetness, and heavenly harmony, the Swiss boy has a fine time in both work and play. [[117]]At no other season are the meadows more beautiful. He soon finds out, however, the difference between cows and goats. The larger animals stay on the levels, obey the rules, and are faithful, punctual, and well drilled. They always move homewards when the horn calls, or the yodel music sounds. On the contrary, the goats are often obstinate, and act as if imps and elves were in them. Then, too, they love to climb and wander. It is, with them, a game of Johnnie Jump Up, pretty much all the time. They leap and scramble out of the meadows, and up over the rocks, climbing thousands of feet towards the mountain tops, and into the most difficult places, as if they loved to play hide and seek and plague the shepherds. This gives the boy plenty to do in hunting them, for it is hard to hear their bells tinkling, when the wind blows roughly, or in the wrong direction.