“Why, is the pasture good enough for that, up here on this mountain?” asked Sidney, baiting his hook.
“Yes,” replied Martin; “I think so; it’s rather rough, but cows are mighty knowin’, and pick out the best. Besides, they have their freedom, and they thrive on that as much as anything. Then the calves are so well grown in the fall by these means, that when farmers, who put them out, go to drive them home to winter-quarters, they hardly know their own again.”
"There, she’s coming back!" cried a little boy; “and a whole lot with her!”
Martin looked where the crashing of boughs told of the approach, and saw about a dozen cows, headed by Duchess, making for that part of the stream where they were fishing. Some half-grown calves scampered at their heels, in a frightened way, that showed they were not much accustomed to the sight of human beings.
“Poor Duchess! Good Duchess!” said Martin, in a kind tone; but Duchess tossed up her nice, brown nose, and snorted at him.
“She don’t like the looks of us, that’s flat,” said Sidney, with a little alarm that made Martin smile; “I’m sure I don’t like her appearance one bit. Suppose she should horn us!” And he jumped hastily up from the rock.
“What!” said Martin; “you, a sailor, who know what it is to face death on the ocean, every day of your life, and yet afraid of a cow! Besides, she hasn’t a horn to her head! Just look at her. She has nothing but two little, miserable stumps!”
Sidney came back again, for he had retreated a step or two, under the trees, and looked somewhat ashamed.
“What’s the use of jumpin’?” said Johnny Bixby, in a big, pompous tone, that he meant to be very courageous and manly; “Duchess is only frightened at seeing us. This is her drinking-place, may be.”
“Oh!” said Sidney; “of course I am not afraid;” but his lips turned blue as Duchess made a sudden move, half-way across the stream, and then stood still, and roared again.