In the neighbourhood of the pool also, where the red baby calf was
tethered, autumn began to wave its withered hand. The great burdock
plants were dying of consumption; their huge flat leaves were faded and
contracted. When White brushed against them in passing, they crackled
irritably.
White-kitten came down almost daily to the pool; the little red
ruminant and she became quite friendly after a while. They rubbed
noses together and galloped away at full speed, the calf in front with
its stiff, clumsy hops, and White just behind.
One day, as the calf rose to its feet, the kitten seized hold of the
tuft at the end of its tail and let herself be dragged some distance
along the ground.
After that, “joy-rides” at the end of the calf’s tail became one of her
greatest delights.
She knew exactly when the calf’s owner--the small farmer from the
cottage by the side of the bog--came out with the milk-pail; but she
had not yet summoned up courage to greet him. But as soon as the man
went away again she sneaked forward to lick up any stray milk scum.
She felt enormously attracted by the man--and long after he had left
she wandered about feeling a strange longing to make his acquaintance.
One day she found an old brown switch, which had been thrown on the
field one winter with the manure, and had now taken root in the earth
with its weather-beaten remaining twigs sticking up in the air.
White-kitten ran and rubbed herself against this broom every time the
man had been with the calf!
In spite of the wild environment in which she had grown up, White was
quite tame. Her dreams always centred round what seemed to her the
greatest luxuries in life: dry shelter and delicious heat. Although she
had never been inside a house, she was constantly obsessed with the
idea of a warm stove with glowing sides, before which she lay curled up
roasting herself.
One morning, when the crofter was bringing milk to the calf, she could
hold back no longer. She left the shelter of the dock-leaves and hopped
quickly past him--but stopped for a moment before bolting into cover
again.
The man called to her as she went; and then, softening his voice and
drawing out the sound alluringly, he repeated, “Pu-s-s! Pu-s-s!”
It was the first time the kitten had ever heard these human sounds--and
the new, delightful music charmed her. She felt her trust in mankind
growing....
And the next time the man called she went nearer still.