"Trip! Trip! Come back! Naughty Trip! Come back this instant!" they commanded again and again.
But Trip turned a deaf ear to all appeals. He was enjoying his chase, and he meant to have it out.
Would he kill or injure a goose, if he managed to get one into his grip? That was Elisabeth's fear. Hecla's dread was that the geese in their wrath might put an end to her beloved Trip.
Wisely the hunted geese thought of the pond, which lay low at one end of the large field. Cackling and protesting vehemently, they fled thither, pursued still by their relentless foe, and one and all plunged in. For the moment, Trip seemed non-plussed. He did not love water; and he ran round and round the pond, trying to get at his prey without wetting his feet. The geese swam vigorously to and fro, always avoiding that side where Trip happened to be. This lasted some little time, Elisabeth and Hecla still vainly ordering him to desist and to come away.
Then Trip made up his mind and plunged heroically in.
The game grew keener. Trip, snorting and gasping, pursued the big unwieldy birds, which in a terrific fright fled from him, to and fro, round and round the little pond. Again and again, as he overtook them, they splashed the water violently with their wings, half stifling the dog with showers of spray, and half swimming, half fluttering out of his reach. Trip, no whit daunted, though becoming more and more breathless, pursued them again; and this was repeated times without number.
"Oh dear, oh dear, I know they'll kill Trip," Hecla kept saying, almost crying. "Poor little Trip. Trip, do come away. Come, Trip. I know he'll be killed!"
"It's a deal more likely he'll kill one o' the geese, and there'll be a pretty kettle o' fish to fry," declared Elisabeth. "We can't stop longer, Miss Hecla. It's time to go home, and Miss Anne told me I was to be sure to be early, 'cause it worries Miss Storey so if we ain't."
"But we can't leave Trip. We can't possibly, Elisabeth. We must wait till he comes away. He'll get killed, if we go. Just look!—" As Trip, gasping for breath, reached the flock, and with a great fluttering and splashing, the geese once more skimmed across out of his reach. "Oh, you naughty naughty Trip. I know they'll kill him! He'll drown. Oh dear!"
"He'll take care of himself—never you fear. Miss Hecla, you've got to come. I can't stop, nor let you stop, if it was a dozen Trips. I've promised Miss Anne I wouldn't be late, and I ain't going to break my word. And you've made lots of promises that you'd be good; and if you don't come, you won't be good."