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Updated: May 5, 2025
Cattle's pulse is taken from the same artery as in the horse. The artery is most superficial a little above the border of the jaw. It is more difficult to find the pulse wave in cattle than it is in horses, because of the larger amount of connective tissue just beneath the skin and the heavier muscles of the jaw.
When old Rawson saw him he, too, remarked on his thinness; but more encouragingly. "Well, 'a lean dog for a long chase," he said. "How are cattle?" inquired Keith. The old fellow turned his eyes on him with a keen look. "Cattle's tolerable. I been buyin' a considerable number up toward Gumbolt, where you're goin'. I may get you to look after 'em some day," he chuckled.
"Once you git to likin' 'em that way " Pink scowled suspiciously. "I'll take mine straight," he said, and sent a resentful glance at Annie-Many-Ponies who was tittering behind her palm. "I calc'late I better beef another critter," Applehead suggested pacifically. "Worst of it is, the cattle's all so danged pore they ain't much pickin' left on their bones after the hide's skun off.
The wheat's kernin' somethin' cruel fine I awnly wish theer was more of it an' the sheep an' cattle's in braave kelter likewise. Then the orchard do promise no worse. I never seed such a shaw of russets an' of quarantines 'pon they old trees afore." "'Tis a fine, fair season." "Why, so I say a 'mazin' summer thus far but what's the reason o't?
"Well, why don't ye? That's what I'd do if I was a boy playin' Injun; I'd go right in an' play." "All right, bhoys," said Raften; "but mind ye the pigs an' cattle's to be 'tended to every day." "Is that what ye call lettin' us camp out come home to work jest the same?" "No, no, William," interposed Mrs. Raften; "that's not fair. That's no way to give them a holiday. Either do it or don't.
But behold, somewhere out yonder the pasture was lost in high sea-waves; ships with bulging sails replaced the curve of the cattle's sides, and instead of bending necks of sheep, there were seagulls swooping down upon the foamy waves. As the incarnation of this dual life of sea and land, the rock stands. It also is both of the sea and the land.
"Never mind, laddie!" he said comfortingly. "Never mind! No one has ever yet got off without being punished, and Lasse'll break that long limb of Satan's head and make his brains spurt out of his nose; you take my word for it!" Pelle's face brightened at the prospect of this forcible redress, and he crept up into the loft to throw down the hay for the cattle's midday meal.
"How's the feed?" came the inevitable cowman's question. "Pore, pore," replied the mountaineer. "Ain't never seen it so short. My cattle's pore." "Well, you're overstocked; that's what's the matter," spoke up some one boldly. George Pollock turned his face toward this voice. "Don't you suppose I know it?" he demanded. "There's a thousand head too many on my range alone.
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