she was holding it back
because he had teased her.

VII

A LITTLE SURPRISE

Little by little the Muley Cow learned not to be disturbed by Johnnie
Green's clothesline lasso, when he swung it in wide circles about his
head and then flung it at hers. She found that the rope did her no harm.
Indeed, the more Johnnie practiced the more expert he became. Before a
great while he could drop his noose over the Muley Cow's head almost
every time he tried--when she stood still.

By that time Johnnie began to tire of the sport of buffalo hunting (with
the Muley Cow for the buffalo). He wished he might try lassoing her from
the back of the old horse Ebenezer. But he hardly thought his father
would approve of the plan.

Well, Johnnie, the Muley Cow and Spot the dog were in the back pasture
one day, where the Muley Cow had strayed. And as Johnnie paused to pick
a few blackberries he thought what a humdrum place Pleasant Valley was,
anyway, and how he would like to go off where there were real buffaloes,
and Indians, and--

And just then old dog Spot began to growl. His hair bristled on his
back. And Johnnie Green was sure that they had stumbled on game of some
sort. He hoped it was at least a woodchuck.

"Sic him, Spot!" Johnnie cried.

But old Spot hung back, instead of dashing into the bushes toward which
he was pointing. That wasn't at all like him. Johnnie Green couldn't
understand it.

The Muley Cow, too, thought it very odd. "I declare," she said to
herself, "I believe old Spot's afraid of something. I believe he's
afraid of a woodchuck." And she gave a sort of chuckle, thinking it a
great joke. Neither she nor her friends were any too fond of Spot. And
she intended to tell the whole herd how he didn't dare chase a
woodchuck.

Meanwhile Johnnie Green picked up a stone and threw it into the clump of
bushes. And then he heard something that was between a growl and a
grunt.

The Muley Cow heard it too. She knew that no woodchuck ever made a sound
like that. And all at once she caught a whiff of the strangest,
_wildest_ sort of scent.

It was enough for the Muley Cow. "My goodness!" she bellowed. "I'm going
home!" And off she dashed down the hillside. She had forgotten all
about the joke on old dog Spot.

Johnnie Green had not noticed that the Muley Cow had fled. He was
running towards the hidden game, in the thicket, when that queer grunty
growl made him stop short. The next moment, not ten feet in front