Adventures in Contentment

"Hulloo, hulloo----" "What luck?" "Hulloo, hulloo----" "I'm coming--" and I turned and ran as rapidly as I could through the trees, jumping over logs and dodging low branches, wondering what new thing my friend had discovered. So I came to his side. "Have you got trace of her?" I questioned eagerly. "Sh!" he said, "over there. Don't you see her?" "Where, where?" He pointed, but for a moment I could see nothing but the trees and the bracken. Then all at once, like the puzzle in a picture, I saw her plainly. She was standing perfectly motionless, her head lowered, and in such a peculiar clump of bushes and ferns that she was all but indistinguishable. It was wonderful, the perfection with which her instinct had led her to conceal herself. All excitement, I started toward her at once. But Mr. Purdy put his hand on my arm. "Wait," he said, "don't frighten her. She has her calf there." "No!" I exclaimed, for I could see nothing of it. We went, cautiously, a few steps nearer. She threw up her head and looked at us so wildly for a moment that I should hardly have known her for my cow. She was, indeed, for the time being, a wild creature of the wood. She made a low sound and advanced a step threateningly. "Steady," said Mr. Purdy, "this is her first calf. Stop a minute and keep quiet. She'll soon get used to us." Moving to one side cautiously, we sat down on an old log. The brown heifer paused, every muscle tense, her eyes literally blazing, We sat perfectly still. After a minute or two she lowered her head, and with curious guttural sounds she began to lick her calf, which lay quite hidden in the bracken.