“Steer her out a bit, Frank. There’s a man fishing just ahead of us and we don’t want to disturb him.”
Frank who was at the rudder lines glanced up and saw, about a quarter of a mile ahead, a man standing up to his waist in water.
“That’s a queer way to fish,” he remarked.
“Probably he’s hooked a big one and is playing him,” remarked Ned.
As they watched the man ran up out of the water and along the bank a few feet, and then, turning, he quickly waded out into deep water again.
“That’s a queer proceeding,” commented Bart, who turned to look at the man.
“Rather,” admitted Ned. “He must—Why a bull is after him!” he went on.
As he spoke the others saw a big black bull come tearing down the field straight toward the river. It stopped when it came to the water’s edge, opposite to where the man was standing in the stream up to his hips. There the beast lowered its head and, with an angry snort, pawed the soft mud.
“Row faster!” urged Frank. “Maybe we can help him.”
As the boat approached, the boys saw the man make several other attempts to leave the river. Each time he tried the bull would chase him back, but the animal seemed to be afraid of getting its feet wet, for it always stopped at the shore.