“No,” went on Shaggo. “I don’t feel like playing tag. Besides, it will make the mud dry quicker and drop off, and then I’ll have to go into the wallow again.”
“Well, that’s only fun!” said Soako, and again he and Poko looked at each other. They said nothing, but they thought that Shaggo was acting very strangely indeed. Not to play tag!
“Is there any other game you’d like to play?” asked Poko, as he nibbled a bit of grass at the edge of the spring.
“No,” answered Shaggo, in a grumbling sort of voice. “All I want is to be left alone. I’m going for a walk. It’s too hot to play tag.”
It was hot, there was no denying that. But then there was the cool wallow to soak in when one was warm after running. And there was also a shady forest which was farther up the National Park preserve. Soako and Poko shook their heads. They could not understand Shaggo.
“Let him go,” whispered Poko, as the big animal started off by himself.
The two friends were just going back to the wallow when, all of a sudden, along came running one of the smaller calves of the herd. He seemed much excited.
“Oh, you ought to see ’em! You ought to see ’em!” he cried, in buffalo talk, as was natural. “They’re fighting like anything.”
“Who are fighting?” asked Poko.
“Rumpo and Bumpo, the twins,” was the answer. “They’re knocking each other all over the prairie. Come on, it’s lots of fun!”