AFTER WILD FLOWERS
For a moment or two Russ did not know whether or not Laddie was joking.
The little fellow often played tricks, and this might be one of these
times. But when Russ looked at Laddie’s face the older Bunker boy felt
sure there must be something wrong.
Still, before getting excited about it, and, perhaps, unnecessarily
frightening Rose, Margy, Mun Bun and Violet, it might be well to make
sure. So Russ asked:
“Which way is he coming, Laddie?”
“Right across the lots,” was the answer. “I saw him when I was after
cattails. He’s coming right this way!”
“Then we’d better hide behind a fence,” advised Violet. “The other day,
when we saw the old mad bull pawing in his field and making a noise
like thunder, mother said we should hide behind a fence.”
“There isn’t any fence here to hide behind,” said Mun Bun, who was
beginning to understand what it was all about.
“Did you hear the bull make a noise like thunder?” asked Violet. You
might be sure she would put in a question or two, no matter what was
happening.
Before Laddie could answer, and while Russ and Rose were thinking what
was best to do to get their younger brothers and sisters out of the way
of the powerful beast, there came from the near-by meadow a rumbling
sound.
“There he goes!” cried Laddie. “I mean here he comes, and he’s
bellowing like thunder!”
Certainly it was a fearsome sound.
“I want my mamma!” wailed Margy.
“So do I!” joined in Mun Bun.
“We’ll take care of you!” quickly said Rose, putting her arms around
the two younger children. “Oh, Russ!” she whispered, “what are we going
to do?”
“We ought to have something red to shake at the bull!” cried Violet.
“Red makes bulls go away.”
“It does not!” declared Laddie. “It’s just different. Red makes ’em run
at you! Has anybody got any red on?” he asked anxiously.
He looked quickly at the others. To his relief no red was to be seen,
and Laddie was glad. As yet the bull was not in sight, for the children
were on one side of the brook and on either bank was a fringe of bushes
and cattails, and these hid the oncoming animal. But if he was not seen
he was heard, and once more his loud bellow sounded.
“Come on! Run!” screamed Violet.
“Yes, we’d better get away from here,” agreed Russ, looking about for a
safe place.
Laddie, who had picked up a stone, perhaps intending to throw it and,
maybe, hit the bull on the nose, dropped the rock. Rose had started on
ahead with Mun Bun and Margy, and Russ now took the hands of Violet and
Laddie, for he felt he could help them run faster this way. Then Rose,
who was a little distance ahead, cried out:
“Oh, there’s a good place to hide!”
“Where?” asked Russ.
“In the old hen-house! We can go in there and lock ourselves in. Come
on!”
She pointed to an old and rather ramshackle sort of building that had
been used as a hen-house by Farmer Joel before he built a better one
nearer the barn. This old hen-house was down near the bank of the
brook, and the children had often played in it. Now it seemed just the
refuge they needed.
“The old bull can knock that house down!” said Laddie. “It’s almost
falling, anyhow.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Russ declared. “And there isn’t any fence
to hide behind. Come on to the hen-house, everybody!”
Behind them came the bellowing bull. They could hear him “roaring,” as
Mun Bun called it, and, as he looked back over his shoulder, Russ saw
the powerful animal splashing his way across the brook.
“He’s surely coming after us!” the boy thought. He had hoped that
perhaps the bull might wander off somewhere else.
“Oh! Oh!” screamed Margy. “He’ll hook us!”
I do not really believe the bull at first had any notion of running
after the children. He had merely gotten out of his pasture and was
wandering about when Laddie saw him. He came to the brook to get a
drink.
Then, after splashing into the water and quenching his thirst, he saw
the six little Bunkers and actually ran toward them. But they had a
good start and hastened toward the hen-house.
With a bellow the bull took after them, his tail out stiff in the air,
his head down and his hoofs making the dirt fly. There were, perhaps,
more reasons than one why the bull chased the children. He might have
thought they had salt to give him, for often Farmer Joel and his men
gave this dainty to the bull and the cows in the fields. Or the bull
may have been just playful. Or perhaps his temper was just ugly. It is
hard to tell sometimes the difference between playfulness and temper.
Bulls are strong and like to show off their strength, sometimes butting
their heads against a fence just for fun, it seems.
At any rate on came this bull after the children, and Russ and Rose
hastened with their younger brothers and sisters toward the open door
of the hen-house.
They reached it some little distance ahead of the charging animal. In
they ran. Russ closed the door and placed against it a strong stick he
found on the floor. The hen-house was deserted except for one chicken
that had strayed in to lay an egg, and she flew off the nest, cackling
in surprise, as the children entered.
Mun Bun and Margy laughed at this, and Rose was glad, for she did not
want them to be too frightened. She and Russ expected every moment to
hear the bull dash against the hen-house door. The boy was afraid, if
this happened, that the shaky door would be broken so the bull could
get in.
But, to his surprise, a moment later Laddie cried:
“Look! He ran right past here!”
And that is just what happened. The bull, charging head down, had
carried himself well past the hen-house, but could be seen to one side
rushing around.
That is one difference between a bull and a cow. A bull charges with
his head down and cannot well see where he is going, so that if one is
very active he can leap out of the way. But a cow rushes at you with
head up and “takes better aim,” as Laddie expressed it.
So this is how it happened that the bull rushed past the hen-house
without doing any damage. Rose breathed a sigh of relief, and she said:
“Now don’t make any noise and maybe he won’t know we’re here. Keep
still!”
And you may be sure the four small little Bunkers did—very still.
Through the window the children watched the bull. He stopped running
and looked about. He bellowed, he pawed the earth, and he seemed
puzzled. Perhaps he was wondering where those children went to, and how
thankful they all were that they were in the hen-house!
“But if he bumps into it he’ll knock it over,” whispered Laddie.
However, the bull did nothing of the sort. Perhaps he thought the
hen-house was a barn, and may have imagined if he “bumped into it” he
would have to stay in, and he would rather be out in the fields. So he
wandered about the hen-house, muttering and bellowing, as if daring any
one to do anything to him.
Of course the children dared not come out while the bull was there,
and they did not know what to do. But they were glad of one thing, and
this was that the animal did not try to come in after them.
“But maybe he will come,” suggested Laddie, in a whisper, when Rose and
Russ talked about how lucky it was that the bull hadn’t tried to butt
down the old hen-house.
“No, I don’t believe he’ll come in now,” said Russ.
“Shall we have to stay here all night?” Violet wanted to know, when
they had been in the hen-house nearly ten minutes and the bull had
shown no likelihood of going away soon.
“I don’t like it here. I want to go out and play!” said Mun Bun, but
he was careful not to speak above a whisper, for he could see the bull
through the dirty windows of the place.
Perhaps it was well that the windows were dirty, for the bull could not
look in through them and see the children.
“No, I don’t believe we’ll have to stay here all night,” said Russ,
though he had no idea how they would get away nor how soon.
However, help was on the way. Adam North, walking down toward the
brook, heard the low, muttering bellows of the bull, and then saw him
moving about the old hen-house.
“Hello, my fine fellow, how did you get out of your pasture?” asked
Adam, speaking to the bull as one might to a dog. “You’ve been up to
some mischief, I’m sure. I wonder——Bless my stars! The children!” cried
Adam North. “Have you been chasing the six little Bunkers?”
Adam looked about but could see no sign of the boys and girls, so he
felt pretty sure they were safe, wherever they were. But he knew the
bull must be shut up in his pasture or he might do some damage. Calling
another hired man, and each of them taking a sharp pitchfork, of which
the bull was much afraid, they drove him away from the hen-house, back
across the brook, and into his pasture, where the broken fence was made
secure.
Then, when Adam and his helper came back after having driven away the
bull, out of the hen-house rushed the six little Bunkers. They had
watched Adam and the other man drive away the animal, but had not dared
come out until everything was all right.
“Were you in there all the while?” asked Adam North.
“Yes,” answered Russ. “We ran in there when the bull chased us.”
“Well, it was the best thing you could have done. My! I’m glad nothing
happened to you. The old bull may have intended just to play with you,
but even to be tossed in fun on a bull’s horns is no joke.”
“I should say not!” agreed Russ.
So that happening ended safely.
“People talk about the quiet life on a farm!” Mrs. Bunker said to her
husband when she came home that evening and heard what had taken place.
“This far our vacation has been anything but quiet.”
“The children seem to enjoy it, though,” said Mr. Bunker. “Even being
chased by a bull appears to agree with them. I never saw them with such
appetites,” for this talk took place at the supper table.
“Oh, they can always eat,” laughed Mrs. Bunker. “I’m glad of that.”
Farmer Joel made sure the next day that the bull’s fence was made so
strong that he could not again get out, and all the hired men were
told to be very careful if they opened the gate to make positive that
it was fastened.
“What are you children going to do to-day?” asked Farmer Joel at the
breakfast table the next morning. “Are you going to chase any more
bulls?”
“Oh! Why, we didn’t chase _him_! He chased _us_!” exclaimed Violet,
looking at her mother in surprise.
“Farmer Joel is only joking, my dear,” said her mother, and then Violet
saw the twinkle in his eyes.
“If you have nothing special to do,” went on Mr. Todd, “you might
gather some wild flowers. There’s going to be a church sociable, and
my sister generally gathers flowers to decorate. But as she isn’t here
now——”
“We’ll get the flowers for you,” quickly offered Mrs. Bunker. “Come,
children, we’ll go to the woods and get flowers for the church.”
They were soon on their way to a place where, Farmer Joel said, many
kinds of wild flowers grew. All six of the little Bunkers went with
their mother.
They strolled through the field, and in a distant pasture saw the old
bull that had chased them. But he seemed good-natured now, for he was
lying under a tree asleep.
“Oh, I have a riddle!” suddenly cried Laddie. “When is a bad bull a
good bull?”
“After he gets whipped, maybe,” suggested Russ.
“After they give him salt,” said Rose, when Laddie had said Russ was
wrong.
“No, that isn’t it,” the riddle-giver replied. “A bad bull is a good
bull when he’s asleep.”
“He’s like some children I know,” said Mrs. Bunker, with a smile.
Then they reached the place where the wild flowers grew and began to
pick them. There were many and beautiful blossoms. Rose was reaching
over to gather a red bloom when suddenly she heard a queer sound near
her.
“Oh, Russ!” she cried. “It’s a rattlesnake!”