"SUDDENLY I HEARD A 'SWISP' IN THE AIR, AND MY LITTLE CURLY-HAIRED PET ..."
"We galloped far, far, before we stopped; and that night there were many mothers in the Herd bawling and crying for their lost Calves, for these evil Men had stolen a great number. I felt so sad thinking of my little one's trouble that I could stand it no longer, so I went back on our trail, and, following up the scene of the Men-kind, came to where they had my Calf and the others. It was night. I soon found him, for a Cow Mother's nose is most wise when looking for her young. But I could not get him away with me, for he was held fast by something; so I stayed there and let him drink of my milk.
"Even with the fear of a fire-stick on me I stayed with him, and in the morning when the Pale-faces saw me their eyes were full of much wonder. But I did not try to run away, and one of them, making many motions and noises to the other two, I think, commanded them not to harm me. Well, good Comrades," sighed the Cow, regretfully, "mine has been a very long story, I'm afraid, but when one talks of her Babe there is so much to be said."
"And did they bring you here with the Calf?" asked Magh.
"Most surely," answered Prairie Cow; "and because of my milk he grew big and strong, much faster than grew the other Calves, and is now big Bull of the Herd."
"But how fared the others with no mothers?" asked Chita.
"They gave them Cow mothers of the tame kind," answered the Cow.
Said Arna, scratching his back with the point of his long horn: "It is not quite this way with us in India. We stick pretty well to the jhils and Jungles, so the Men cannot kill many of us at one time; but still we are becoming fewer. Even those of the black kind now have the thunder-stick, and kill my comrades to sell their heads to the horn merchants. Think of that, Brothers, having a price on one's head, like a Bhil robber."
Said Sa'-zada: "I wish all the Men who slay Animals, calling it sport, might have sat here to-night with us, that their hearts might be inclined more kindly toward you, Brothers, who war not against my kind."
"Sa'-zada," cried Hathi, in a gentle voice, "could you not put all these things in a new book, and lend it to each one of your people so that they might know of these true things? Surely then they would not seek for the life of each one of us that has done them no harm."