I waited a while before venturing down to look for my animals, now conspicuous for their absence. Darkness had settled on the scene. Groping my way up the road, I soon stumbled over a pair of boots, further on a camera, and a hundred yards beyond my Winchester rifle, minus its holster.
Still no sign of donkeys or dog. I stopped at a farm house and inquired: "Have you seen two jackasses strolling this way?"
The agriculturist pulled his goatee as he surveyed me from foot to crown, and replied: "No, I hain't seen two jackasses strollin' this way, but a whole herd of 'em came tearing past my barnyard a-kitin' about an hour ago, skeerin' the cattle I was a-milkin' into fits. Why! the brayin' and takin's on of the wild beasts caused a stampede of my hull gol-darned dairy. What be ye at a-pesterin' round these parts with a herd of wild jackasses?"
My response was terse, and was given before the man had finished. I hurried on, making inquiries at other farmhouses before I found my fugitive caravan huddling together in a corral, a mile beyond. My dog was with them, but no cows or calves.
Borrowing a lantern and two halters, I retraced my steps down the highway, my unwilling animals in tow, and resaddled and packed them as best I could; then I returned the loan and hastened to town.
larger
A. "In this way I crossed that bridge of size."
B. "I saw the streak of daylight."