Little G stepped forward daintily,
his nostrils expanding, his ears working back and forth, trying
to the best of his ability to understand which animals I had
selected. The cow and her calf turned in toward the centre of
the herd. A touch of the reins guided the pony. At once he
comprehended. From that time on he needed no further directions.
Cautiously, patiently, with great skill, he forced the cow
through the press toward the edge of the herd. It had to be done
very quietly, at a foot pace, so as to alarm neither the objects
of pursuit nor those surrounding them. When the cow turned back,
Little G somehow happened always in her way. Before she knew it
she was at the outer edge of the herd. There she found herself,
with a group of three or four companions, facing the open plain.
Instinctively she sought shelter. I felt Little G's muscles
tighten beneath me. The moment for action had come. Before the
cow had a chance to dodge among her companions the pony was upon
her like a thunderbolt. She broke in alarm, trying desperately
to avoid the rush. There ensued an exciting contest of dodgings,
turnings,and doublings. Wherever she turned Little G was before
her. Some of his evolutions were marvellous.
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