Coos & Moos

Contest, if not conflict, is part of man's unresting nature; the urge that needs a "moral equivalent for war" finds outlets other than politics, champions other than Molotov and Byrnes. This month some of the heroes symbolizing that urge weighed in at 1,500 Ibs., while some weighed 20 oz. They held the attention of thousands weary of war but not of competition.

Wings over western France and the English Channel no longer meant Spitfires or V-bombs. The National Club for Pigeon Races of London, in a great postwar revival, arranged for 3,500 birds to be taken in three airplanes to Bordeaux, the take-off point for a race to London.

Swiss farmers, far up in the isolated glens of Valais Canton, had deplored World War II because it suspended Valais' own brand of warfare. Each year until 1939, Valaisan farmers, notorious throughout phlegmatic Switzerland for their hot tempers, had driven 200 stocky, combative cows up to the high pastures just beneath Alpine peaks. There the select 200 plunged into wild battle. They proved their cunning by dodging heavier opponents and victors of previous years. They showed their sportsmanship by stepping back to wait if the opposing cow slipped on the wet grass. The victor, having pushed or frightened away all other contenders after 3 days of cow combat, emerged as "summer queen."

The Swiss Government had suspended the fights for the war's duration because the fighting cows when in training are fed white wine and bread and are not expected to produce much milk. Last week, thanks to peace, hundreds of cowbells in the passes leading to the high pastures tinkled a martial melody: tough Valaisan farmers and big Valaisan cows were heading for another rendezvous with destiny.

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