The mustang needed no warning. He was watching the bull with a quizzical look. He seemed amazed, as if he couldn’t quite believe that a “cow critter” could possibly be stupid enough to try any tricks on a smart ranch pony like himself. He cocked his head and stood waiting as if he were saying, “I’ll just wait and see if this is really true. Maybe I just imagined that bull was rushing at me.”
The bull rushed all right. He came ploughing across the yard like a freight train, the driving hooves taking huge chunks out of the smooth green sod. Ticktock calmly and neatly side-stepped. He decided this time that he hadn’t been mistaken. The bull was actually trying to scare him. The whole thing was ridiculous. As the bull came charging back the third time the pony decided he had enough of such foolishness. He wheeled sharply when the animal was a few feet away. As the bull roared past, Ticktock lashed out sharply with both hind feet. Running the open range as a colt had taught the mustang how to use his only weapons, his feet. He had learned well, as the bull now discovered. Ticktock planted a firm kick squarely on the fat side of the big red animal. The bull, almost knocked over by the force of the blow, gave a loud bellow of pain and surprise. Jim jumped up and down on the front porch, cheering as if at a boxing match.
“Sock him, Ticktock; let him have it!”
By now Ticktock had his ears back and his teeth bared. He stood watching the bull, willing to give him another lesson. The bull, however, needed no more instruction. He promptly dropped all ideas regarding the little pony, moving a respectful distance away. Snorting in baffled rage and disappointment, he walked across the yard and began pawing furiously in the flower beds.
“My flowers,” moaned Mrs. Meadows. “Now I know that bull is going to be sold. I could kill him with my bare hands.”
“I’ll chase him out,” volunteered Jim.
“No you don’t. You are still staying here,” insisted Jim’s mother.
Jim gave a whistle. “Come here, Ticktock.”
The mustang trotted up to the porch. Jim climbed on confidently. He had no bridle but he was long since past the point where he needed reins to make his wishes known to the pony. He rode over to the nearest tree and broke off a substantial switch.