“Of course I will,” Jo answered briskly. “Put the sliprails of the yard down, in case I bring him back, will you, Jeanie?”
She waved her hand gaily, and in another moment was galloping up the road.
Far ahead, the Jersey bull was only a little dot upon the wayside. He was travelling fast, and probably his temper was, as yet, none the better for the exercise. Jo shuddered to think of what might happen if he encountered any of the Bush children, who are, as a rule, fearless of any animals. Little children would very certainly not think of getting out of his way.
She dug her heel into Pilot, giving him his head: and the black pony, glad to be out again, after long days in the paddock, answered promptly. His long stride soon lessened the distance separating them from the blur of dust ahead. From the house, Jean watched them anxiously, until a bend in the road hid them from sight. Then she turned with a little sigh, and hurried back to the neglected kitchen, resolving to have all the work done before Jo’s return. But it was certainly hard to be the one to stay at home.
It was near a little clump of trees that Jo first came up with the Jersey. The shade had tempted him to pause; he stood under a wattle, his angry head low, until the sound of galloping hoofs startled him. Quite well he knew that hoofs would come; but he had not the smallest intention of waiting for them. As Pilot and his rider came into view he went off again, this time at a heavy gallop.
“Bother the old thing!” said Jo, pulling up. “We’ll let him run a bit, Pilot: he’ll stop much sooner then.”
She waited until the bull dropped once more into a jog-trot. Then she cantered on, keeping this time on the opposite side of the road, in the somewhat vain hope of inducing the fugitive to think she was merely out for a ride, with no intention whatever of interfering with his excursions. But the bull knew the pony, and he was not easy to deceive; he quickened his pace whenever the hoofs came nearer, and so the miles steadily increased between them and the Emu Plains homestead, now far out of sight. Jo set her teeth at last.
“Well, this may go on all day,” she said. “We’ve simply got to head him, Pilot. Come on, boy!”
Pilot was very willing. He was galloping before the bull realized it. There was a minute of uncertainty, and then the pony forged steadily ahead, still keeping on the far side of the road—not turning until they were a hundred yards in the lead. Then Jo swung round suddenly, pulling up across the bull’s path. The Jersey came on steadily. She swung her light stock-whip free, with a sharp crack, and, shouting, rode to meet him.