But it turned out otherwise. Crookhorn knew better than to let such a thing happen. When they took off the willow band she stood still awhile with her neck stretched up, looking at the horses which were at that moment going out of the inclosure. Suddenly she kicked up her hind legs in real horse fashion, and then away she went after the herd as fast as she could go.
The milkmaids, as well as the boys, could do nothing but stand and gape when they saw her join the horses.
"Probably she imagines now that she is a horse," thought they.
For a while they stood in silence watching the receding herd. Then Ole said in his dry fashion, "If there had been any elephants here, it would have been just like Crookhorn to imagine herself an elephant."
CHAPTER VII
HOME FROM THE SÆTER
Summer, with its light nights and brilliant days, comes rapidly to full power on the mountains in Norway. The season is brief but intense.
It begins with a creeping of light green over the gentle slopes and unending marshes, and a trickling of light green down around each tue, or little mound of earth covered with moss and tiny berry plants. Ptarmigans roam about in solitary pairs, murmuring when any one comes too near their nests; gnats and horseflies buzz through the air; and cows, with tails set straight up, scamper friskily about, trying to escape the irritating stings.
Over everything lies a thick, warm, dark-blue haze, hindering a free outlook.