his foe,
stopped for a moment, snorting, then dashed around the barn to see if
the enemy were hiding on the other side. Twice he circled it, his rage
increasing instead of diminishing; and then he caught sight of the
man's face eyeing him calmly through the little square stable window.

He stopped again to paw the earth, bellowing his heavy challenge; and
the old woodsman wondered what to do. He wanted the splendid black
bull for his little herd, but he was beginning to have serious
misgivings. Moreover, he wanted to get into the house. He threw open
the stable door; and as the bull dashed in he scrambled through a
manger, swung himself into the loft, dropped from the hay window, and
darted for the house at top speed. He had had an idea of shutting the
stable door, and imprisoning his unmanageable visitor; but the bull
was too quick for him. He got the heavy kitchen door slammed to just
in time. Thoughtfully he rubbed his grizzled chin as he glanced out
and saw the black beast raging up and down before the window.

"Can't do nothin' with that, I'm afeared!" he muttered.

Just then the bull stopped his ravings, turned his head, and stared
away up the road. There came a clamour of gay young voices; and the
old woodsman, following the beast's eyes, saw a little group of
children approaching on their way to school. Among them he noticed a
girl in a bright scarlet waist. This the bull noted also. He forgot
his enemy in the house. He grunted savagely, gave his tail a vicious
twist, and trotted down the lane toward the road.

The old woodsman saw that the time had come for prompt action. He
snatched up his loaded rifle from the corner where it stood always
ready, ran out upon the steps, and shouted at the bull. The great
black animal stopped and looked around, mumbling deep in his throat.
He wheeled half-about to return to the old enemy. Then he paused
irresolutely and eyed the gay bevy of children. Which foe should he
obliterate first?

While he hesitated, the rifle rang out, and the heavy bullet found
its mark just back of his fore-shoulder. He sank forward upon his
outstretched muzzle and his knees, his tail stiffening straight up,
and quivering. Then he rolled over on his side.

The old woodsman strode down the lane, and stood over the great black
form. His shrewd gray eyes were filled with regret and sympathetic
comprehension.

"Spiled!" said he. "Clean spiled all 'round! The woods, they wa'n't no
place fer you,