On looking at the clock he realized that he had spent more time in the forest than he had intended and that he must make haste about his evening tasks. The fire was nearly out and did not wish to burn, for the wood was wet and the wind, whistling down the chimney, filled the room with sparks and smoke. He grew impatient and irritated at last, kicked the logs into place and received in return such a puff of ashes in his face that he was nearly choked. As he went to the door for a breath of fresh air, he remembered, with sudden dismay, that he must milk Hulda.
For a long time after, Hugh preferred not to remember that interview between himself and the indignant cow. Even when he did think of it, he realized that Hulda showed the greatest forbearance and that the kick she gave him was probably an involuntary one, administered when cow nature could endure no more. She looked around at him a moment later with apology in her mild brown eyes, encouraging him to forget his smarting knee, to sit down upon the stool and attempt the task again. At last he straightened his aching back and stood gazing with pride at the bucket half full of foaming milk.
“You are a good cow, Hulda,” he confided to her; “there are not many who would stand for what you have.”
Very carefully he carried his prize back to the house, slipping and stumbling on the wet path, but taking the greatest care that not a drop should be spilled. He felt prouder of having milked Hulda without assistance than of anything he had ever before achieved; he did wish that Oscar would come home to see. He stood a minute by the cabin door, trying with vain eyes to peer through the darkness. Nothing was visible, hardly even the hand he held before his face, nothing would pierce that heavy blackness but the rushing of the flooded stream and the calling of the wind. With a great sigh he turned at last, fumbled for the latch of the door and stepped inside.
The fire had burned up during his absence, making the room look warm and cozy, a welcome sight after the storm and rain without. He lit the lamp upon the table, then looked up uneasily at the clock on the wall. Its hands pointed to nine. He carried the lamp to the window, drew back the curtains and set it on the sill.