l to
feeding. He lowed to them softly through the rails, and they eyed him
with amiable interest. With a burst of joy, he reared his bulk against
the fence, bore it down, trotted in confidently, and took command of
the little herd. There was no protesting. Cows and steers alike
recognized at once the right of this dominant black stranger to rule;
and soon he fell to pasturing among them quietly, his heart healed at
last of its loneliness.

The two canoemen, meanwhile, on their arrival at the settlement, had
told of their encounter with the wild black bull. As they described
the adventure to a little circle gathered in the back room of the
grocery, the old woodsman whose cabin had been burned in the great
fires was one of their most interested listeners.

[Illustration: "A LORDLY BLACK BEAST IN COMMAND OF THE HERD."]

"I'll bet he's mine! I'll bet he's out of the little red cow I bought
just afore the fire!" he exclaimed at last. And his theory, duly
expounded, met with general credence.

When, therefore, a couple of mornings later, the old woodsman, on
going to the pasture to fetch in his cows for the milking, found a
lordly black beast in command of the herd, he understood at once.
Fortunately for him, he understood so well that he took certain
precautions, instead of walking straight into the middle of the
pasture as usual to get the cows. With judgment born of intuitive
understanding, he let down the pasture bars unnoticed, then went over
near the stable door and called. At the familiar summons the cows
lifted their heads, and came filing lazily toward the open bars, which
lay a little to one side of the direct way to the house. But the black
bull was of another mind. He saw the man; and straight his eyes saw
red. He pawed the earth, roared angrily, gave one uncertain glance at
the cows sauntering away from him, and then charged straight for the
unknown foe. The works of man might, indeed, have some strange
inherited attraction for him; but man, the individual, he hated with
destructive hate.

The woodsman noticed that the bull was not heading for the bars.

"The fence'll stop him!" he said to himself, confidently.

But not so. The wild bull had no conception of the sanctity and
authority of fences. The stout rails went down before him like
corn-stalks. The old woodsman shook his head deprecatingly, stepped
into the stable, and latched the door.

The bull, much puzzled at the unaccountable disappearance of