For an instant he did not realise his danger, then another shout from the men, 'Get out of his way!' made him step aside. The bull had caught sight of him and lowered his head with an angry bellow.
And then, to the horror and amazement of the drovers, they saw the small child turn and walk into the middle of the road, where he stood confronting the animal with upraised stick.
At this identical moment the hoot of a horn and whiz of a motor was heard coming down the road. It slackened speed behind Bobby; then the little fellow never quite knew what happened, but it swerved past him and literally charged into the enraged bull, driving him into the hedge. For an instant the car seemed as if it was going to overturn, then it righted itself, and came to a standstill. Bobby was soon surrounded by a good many people, and for a moment he was a little dazed.
A gentleman was stooping over him, a tall man with very bright eyes, a bronzed skin and short curly golden hair. He was the owner of the motor; and the three cattle-drovers were all eagerly talking and explaining.
'Why didn't you run away, little chap?' the gentleman said; 'don't you know that you were just on the point of being tossed by the horns of that bull?'
'Oh no,' Bobby said in a confident tone, recovering himself; 'I was going to whack him 'cross the nose—least Nobbles was. Nobbles can kill bulls if he likes!'
He held out his stick with pride, then looked pityingly at the fallen bull, whose master was surveying it with some dismay.
'Is the poor cow quite dead? I was awful 'fraid when I saw you knock him over.'
The gentleman looked at Bobby very strangely, then turned back to his car.
'True!' he called, 'come and speak to this little boy. I've never seen such pluck before. Tell him he needn't waste his pity on the bull, which would have killed him had we not prevented it!'