What they may have done
in Mr. Culley's time, we must take upon that gentleman's word; but at
present, and for so long as the present park-keeper can recollect, they
have never been in the habit of describing those curious concentric
circles of which Mr. Culley makes mention in the last quotation.

The late mode of killing them is described as "perhaps the only modern
remains of the grandeur of ancient hunting. On notice being given, that
a wild bull would be killed on a certain day, the inhabitants of the
neighbourhood came mounted and armed with guns, &c., sometimes to the
amount of a hundred horse, and four or five hundred foot, who stood upon
walls or got into trees, while the horsemen rode off the bull from the
rest of the herd until he stood at bay, when a marksman dismounted and
shot. At some of these huntings twenty or thirty shots have been fired
before he was subdued. On these occasions the bleeding victim grew
desperately furious, from the smarting of his wounds, and the shouts of
savage joy that were echoing from every side. But from the number of
accidents that happened, this dangerous mode has been little practised
of late years, the park-keeper alone generally shooting them with a
rifled gun at one shot."

This vivid portraiture of a scene, which the writer is pleased to
consider _grand_, does not appear to have much relation to the history
of the _Genus Bos_: it however, exhibits the brutal and ferocious habits
of two varieties of _Genus Homo_, namely _Nob_ility and _Mob_ility--two
varieties which, although distinguished by some external marks of
difference, possess in common many questionable characteristics.

Culley proceeds:--"When the cows calve, they hide their calves for a
week or ten days in some sequestered situation, and go and suckle them
two or three times a day. If any person come near the calves, they clap
their heads close to the ground, and lie like a hare in form, to hide
themselves; _this is a proof of their native wildness_, and is
corroborated by the following circumstance that happened to Mr. Bailey,
of Chillingham, who found a hidden calf, two days old, very lean and
very weak. On stroking its head it got up, pawed two or three times like
an old bull, bellowed very loud, stepped back a few steps, and bolted at
his legs with all its force; it then began to paw again, bellowed,
stepped back, and bolted as before; but knowing its intention, and
stepping aside, it missed him, fell, and