Mary Stewart by Ludo;the Star Horse

Author:Ludo;the Star Horse
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-06-01T14:51:37+00:00

CHAPTER XI

The Bull

Now as I have told you, Ludo used to go every summer up to the summer farm and help mind the cows while his father made cheeses. They had bulls up there, too, so Ludo was used to cattle and knew quite a lot about them. He was not really afraid of bulls, but, like everyone who deals with them, he respected them, and he never, never made the mistake of trusting one, however friendly he looked. And this one did not look friendly at all. When a bull starts pawing at the ground with his forehoof, it is time to be very careful indeed.

Ludo knew that the one thing it would be fatal to do, would be to run away; or even to move at all. The only thing to do when faced at close quarters by an angry bull is to stand quite still.

He stood quite still.

He stood quite still for so long that he was afraid he was going to sneeze.

Beside him Renti, who was not afraid of the bull, but was rather anxious not to draw its attention to himself, stood quite still too.

The Bull—for of course it was the Bull himself— stopped pawing at the ground, and stood quite still.

And there they all might be standing to this day, but they were interrupted. Two little girls, about the same age as Ludo, came running out of the trees. They had been picking flowers, and between them they held a daisy chain as thick as a skipping rope.

Before Ludo could move or shout a warning, they ran straight up to the Bull and flung the daisy chain around his massive neck. The Bull lowered his head even further, so that his horns looked wider than ever. His huge eyes rolled, showing the whites, and then, to Ludo’s amazement, he asked in a low voice, “What is it? It’s been standing there without saying a word, without moving even, for ages and ages.” The little girls stood, one on each side of the Bull, holding the ends of the daisy chain. They both stared at Ludo. They were not like any girls he had seen before. They were dainty and finely made, like porcelain figures, and they had on dresses which looked as if they were made of flowers. Nothing else but flowers, with perhaps a bit of ribbon here and there to hold them together. What was more, they had wings. At first Ludo hardly recognized these as wings; they were tiny, just plumes of feathers growing from their shoulders, white and soft like the wings of doves—and no bigger. In fact, as wings, they were quite useless. They would never have allowed even these dainty little girls to fly, any more than would the tiny wings that Ludo had seen on the paintings of cherubs in church at home. But these girls were not like any cherubs he had seen; certainly not like angels. And not a bit like fairies, either. But whatever

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