Herding Cattle

Herding Cattle

This article was written on July 27, 2013.

Author: Lü Jianfeng

My little friends and I were stunned.

About herding cattle.

When I was a child in my hometown, cattle were very precious. The grain we ate was grown by ourselves, and plowing fields and pulling carts all depended on cattle. I vaguely remember encountering several adult matchmaking proposals, where it was mentioned that the man's family had cattle. If it was a water buffalo, the voice would be louder when saying it, showing the importance of cattle in our rural area.

Water buffalo and yellow cattle were the two common types in our area; I haven't seen a third type. Yellow cattle have nothing to do with today's ticket scalpers. Yellow cattle are mostly reddish-brown, while water buffalo are black. Yellow cattle are slightly smaller than water buffalo. Water buffalo are stronger and have a bigger temper than yellow cattle. Water buffalo often fight, but I've never seen yellow cattle fight. It seems water buffalo don't bully yellow cattle either.

Each family raised their own cattle. During the busy farming season, when cattle weren't working, they were left to graze around the fields, and after returning home, they were fed rice straw. During the slack season, we children had an important task: to get up early and herd the cattle. In the morning, there was dew, and the grass was fresh, which cattle preferred. Early in the morning, we would lead our own cattle, usually a group of a dozen or so kids, and march up the mountain in a grand procession. Each cow was separated by about ten meters, and we would loosen the rope to let the cow eat on its own, while we kids gathered to play. I remember once, a kid picked a leaf from a tree, half-rolled it, put it to his mouth, and melodious tunes drifted everywhere. My little friends and I were stunned; we all gathered around him, with admiration, staring blankly as he played. When he stopped, we went to pick leaves and asked him to teach us. Later, when we herded cattle, playing leaf whistles became a must-do. After a few years, only a few could make a sound, and only one kid learned to play tunes. I couldn't even make a sound for years.

Water buffalo are more violent and often fight together. Once, while we were playing in a group, we heard cattle bellowing, and saw two buffalo charging at each other while bellowing. Nearby water buffalo also joined the fray, bellowing. Dozens of horns clashed together, heads colliding with loud bangs. My little friends and I were stunned; we didn't know what to do and didn't dare go forward. One clever kid ran down the mountain to call for help. Soon adults came, using long sticks with torches to separate the cattle.

I must talk about riding cattle. We all knew how to ride cattle. The most skilled kid in our village could stand on the cow's back, playing a short flute, and let the cow carry him home swaying. I was also clumsy; my highest level was sitting astride the cow's back, using the whip to make it run forward. I never learned to stand. But I had a unique skill: our old sow, after much training from me, I could finally ride it around. None of the other kids in our village could do that. My little friends were stunned, and I was quite proud.

At eleven, I went to a town eight miles away for middle school, with six and a half days of classes a week, so I couldn't herd cattle anymore. Later, the village organized joint herding, where each family took turns herding all the cattle together up the mountain. That took away much of the fun of herding cattle.