This was a species of game that Jerry was not looking for that morning, thank you.
Perhaps bulls were not mentioned as being included in the closed season, but they had a value attached to them, and he was not in the humor to give Farmer Dobson any sort of club to hold over his head.
Jerry did not like the idea of taking to a tree, either. Flight, then, would seem to be his only course.
To leave the "tote" road and dash wildly through the forest was his plan, as he saw the bull coming so hurriedly in his direction.
Before he could even start toward putting this idea into play another actor had appeared on the scene.
Jerry saw a figure rushing through the scrub with the evident idea of intercepting the oncoming bull. He immediately recognized the flaming red bandana which he had noticed around the thick neck of the farmer on the occasion of his visit to the camp.
Then Jerry grinned, nor did he make the first move toward leaving. Stepping to one side, he screened himself behind a friendly tree and waited.
"There's his bull, all right. Now let's see how he leads him home by the ring in his nose. It will show me how," was what he was saying as he peeped around the base of his ambush.
The bull still came on. Somehow he seemed to take a new lease of life at sight of Farmer Dobson. It may have been caused by the flaming handkerchief just below the red face of the tiller of the soil. Then again, possibly, a list of indignities suffered in the past at the hands of this same owner occurred to the bull.
Jerry saw the man flaunt his arms wildly in the air. He was shouting loudly, too, and perhaps in the past the sound of his hoarse voice had cowed the bull.