Poor Buttercup was not in a very good mood, for she had been lately bereft of her calf, and mourned for the little thing most dismally. Just now she regarded all mankind as her enemies (and I do not blame her), so when the matadore came prancing towards her with the red handkerchief flying at the end of his long lance, she threw up her head, and gave a most appropriate “Moo!” Tommy rode gallantly at her, and Toby, recognizing an old friend, was quite willing to approach; but when the lance came down on her back with a loud whack, both cow and donkey were surprised and disgusted. Toby backed with a bray of remonstrance, and Buttercup lowered her horns angrily.
“At her again, Tom; she’s jolly cross, and will do it capitally!” called Dan, coming up behind with another rod, while Jack and Ned followed his example.
Seeing herself thus beset, and treated with such disrespect, Buttercup trotted round the field, getting more and more bewildered and excited every moment, for whichever way she turned, there was a dreadful boy, yelling and brandishing a new and very disagreeable sort of whip. It was great fun for them, but real misery for her, till she lost her patience and turned the tables in the most unexpected manner. All at once she wheeled short round, and charged full at her old friend Toby, whose conduct cut her to the heart. Poor slow Toby backed so precipitately that he tripped over a stone, and down went horse, matadore, and all, in one ignominious heap, while distracted Buttercup took a surprising leap over the wall, and galloped wildly out of sight down the road.
“Catch her, stop her, head her off! run, boys, run!” shouted Dan, tearing after at his best pace, for she was Mr. Bhaer’s pet Alderney, and if anything happened to her, Dan feared it would be all over with him. Such a running and racing and bawling and puffing as there was before she was caught! The fish-poles were left behind; Toby was trotted nearly off his legs in the chase; and every boy was red, breathless, and scared. They found poor Buttercup at last in a flower garden, where she had taken refuge, worn out with the long run. Borrowing a rope for a halter, Dan led her home, followed by a party of very sober young gentlemen, for the cow was in a sad state, having strained her shoulder in jumping, so that she limped, her eyes looked wild, and her glossy coat was wet and muddy.
“You’ll catch it this time, Dan,” said Tommy, as he led the wheezing donkey beside the maltreated cow.
“So will you, for you helped.”
“We all did, but Demi,” added Jack.
“He put it into our heads,” said Ned.
“I told you not to do it,” cried Demi, who was most broken-hearted at poor Buttercup’s state.
“Old Bhaer will send me off, I guess. Don’t care if he does,” muttered Dan, looking worried in spite of his words.