“He certainly is queer,” said Poko in a whisper.
“I should say so!” agreed Soako, pawing around on the bottom of the wallow. “I remember when he was always the first in the mud. Now he doesn’t care whether he’s last or not. I wonder what is the matter with Shaggo that he acts so queerly?”
By this time the biggest buffalo of the herd was at the edge of the wallow, and the other two could not talk about him without being overheard. So they splashed about, and soon Shaggo was also covering himself with mud to keep away the flies.
But though Shaggo rolled himself around in the black sticky mud as did his friends, the mighty buffalo did not seem to be enjoying himself. He did not play tricks and jokes as he had been wont to do. He did not butt the others with his immense head, nor splash mud on them, nor roll them over so that their noses went under. He just covered himself with mud and then came out on the bank.
“You aren’t going to quit so soon, are you?” asked Poko.
“Let’s have a game of mud tag,” suggested Soako. “This is our best chance. We have the wallow to ourselves now. Pretty soon Wuffo and the other bulls will be coming here for their bath, and we’ll have to skip out. Come on, Shaggo! I’ll be it for a game of tag! Look out! I’m coming!”
Soako rushed up from the mud wallow and trotted toward Shaggo. But the latter, instead of running away, as he often did, and keeping out of Soako’s way, as he easily could have done (for Shaggo was the best runner in the herd) just stood still and let Soako tag him.
“Now Shaggo is it!” bellowed Soako, running over to join Poko, who also came up out of the cool wallow.
“I’m not going to play,” said Shaggo.
“Not going to play!” echoed Poko and Soako.