“Or the bull, either,” thought Yellow Star; but she said nothing, for she knew her friend’s weakness. In the excitement of taking care of Uncle Si, his niece had forgotten all about the bull. If not, Stella knew well that poor Cynthia would be left to her fate, so far as timid Doris was concerned. Why, even the most harmless cow that ever lowed would send her flying from the huckleberry pasture, and folks said the Wolcott bull was dangerous.
So only one of the girls kept a sharp lookout as they passed the open barn-yard gate and crossed the pasture toward Wolcott’s Woods. On its distant verge, a fleck of scarlet showed plainly—Cynthia’s old red cape. And—yes! A lumbering, dark shape had already started leisurely in pursuit of the scarlet fleck.
Stella saw the bull first, and walked on faster. Then Doris saw, grew white as a sheet and instantly turned to run, oblivious of the fact that Taurus had his back toward them, and his eye too evidently upon Cynthia.
“Help! help!” she screamed, as she fled; but there was neither house nor man within half a mile.
Stella resolutely advanced, keeping close to the wire fence that separated the big pasture from their much-loved woods. Cynthia had discovered her danger and was running gallantly, but had not thought to drop her red cape. And she had been caught in the open field, far from fence or tree. Sir Walter had left her side, and was barking hoarsely and making little ineffectual dashes at the bull, that, together with her headlong flight, merely served to provoke his curiosity into wrath. Giving a terrifying bellow, he set off at full speed.
Yellow Star had seen much of wild Texas cattle at the agency, where they are issued to the Indians “on the hoof,” as a monthly ration. Furthermore, Sir Walter had long since learned to obey the girl from Dakota as he never dreamed of obeying his impetuous little mistress. Her flute-like whistle was enough to bring him galloping to her side. Cynthia, too, turned half-way toward her at the sound, stumbled and fell at full length.
The bull was still plunging heavily along, and Stella, who had hoped to draw him off in her direction and then slip through the wire fence out of reach, found scant time for any such maneuver. Desperately she sent Sir Walter flying back to bark and snap at his heels, while she herself stood still and uttered a long ringing cry.