He Said That He Was Over Seventy, And Had Spent The Whole Of
His Life In The Neighbourhood, Mostly With Cows, And Had Never
Been More Than A Dozen Miles From The Spot Where We Were
Standing.
At intervals while we talked he paused to utter one
of his long shouts, to which the cows paid no attention.
At
length one of the beasts raised her head and had a long look,
then slowly crossed the field to us, the others following at
some distance. They were shorthorns, all but the leader, a
beautiful young Devon, of a uniform rich glossy red; but the
silky hair on the distended udder was of an intense chestnut,
and all the parts that were not clothed were red too - the
teats, the skin round the eyes, the moist embossed nose; while
the hoofs were like polished red pebbles, and even the shapely
horns were tinged with that colour. Walking straight up to
the old man, she began deliberately licking one of his ears
with her big rough tongue, and in doing so knocked off his old
rakish cap. Picking it up he laughed like a child, and
remarked, "She knows me, this one does - and she loikes me."
Chapter Seventeen: An Old Road Leading Nowhere
So many and minute were the directions I received about the
way from the blessed cowkeeper, and so little attention did I
give them, my mind being occupied with other things, that they
were quickly forgotten. Of half a hundred things I remembered
only that I had to "bear to the left." This I did, although
it seemed useless, seeing that my way was by lanes, across
fields, and through plantations.
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