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Sins of Silvertip the Fox

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<h2 id='ch07' title="THE WHITE COW BEGINS A STORY">CHAPTER VII THE WHITE COW BEGINS A STORY</h2> If the smell of that delicious hay in the Red Cow’s manger made Nibble’s nose go fast, the taste of it made his hungry little jaws go still faster. And the Red Cow was just about as busy as he was. Her big teeth wouldn’t move quite so quickly, but she could take bigger bites to make up for lost time. They were still eating when he heard a loud snort just outside. So he jumped up on the windowsill again to be sure who it was. “Hello, Rabbit,” came the White Cow’s nice fluty voice as she saw his whiskers in the window. “I told you you’d come back again.” “Oh, the Red Cow’s got such a cunning calf in here I just have to come,” he laughed. “She has, has she?” mooed the White Cow. “I’d like to see it myself.” She was a motherly old beast, so she really did love babies. “Is it all right? That wolf who ran through the milking barns has been around here—I can smell him. Calves are what they always come for.” “That was only Silvertip the Fox,” he chuckled. “He’s gone!” Still the White Cow kept shaking her head and snorting. “He’s no business here. He’s a wolf, and it’s plain against the compact.” “What compact, please, Madame Snowflake?” lowed the Red Cow. “Why, the compact between Cows and Man,” she answered. “You know Man used to hunt us. It must have been dreadful, for one man is worse than a whole pack of wolves-” “Exactly what Doctor Muskrat says!” exclaimed Nibble. “Well, it’s true,” she asserted. “Cows are all right so long as they keep all together. But you can’t have little new wobbly babies in a herd because we’re so near-sighted someone would be sure to step on them. So the mothers used to go off and hide them until they grew strong enough not to let themselves get stepped on. And the wolves and the men would watch out for them. No matter how careful the cows were someone would be sure to find them. Long before they came, the mothers would get all scary and unhappy just thinking about it.” “I felt just that way!” gasped the Red Cow. “Didn’t I, Nibble?” “Well, after a long time Man made a compact with the cows. He promised that if they’d live with him and give him milk and plough his fields and let him take the meat of certain ones, not the young heifers or the mothers, he’d keep the wolves away from them.” “How did that happen?” asked Nibble excitedly, for he guessed it was one of those tales of the First-Off Beginning of Things. And sure enough, the White Cow began, “Well, as I said, both Man and wolves hunted the cows in the First-Off Beginning. That was bad enough. But when Man made friends with the dogs, who were really wolves, it was worse yet. They both knew all the tricks between them. “There was a river wandering through the plain where the cows used to feed, and it had a rocky island standing up in the middle of it. The island was hollow as a cup and full of brush and grass, and there was only one crack in the rocks where a cow could just squeeze through to get into it. It was a secret among the cows, who only went there to raise their calves, and they were careful to walk a long way in the water to hide their trails before they crossed over to it. So the wolves would never have found it. But a man did. “He was hunting cows. So were a pack of wolves, and they saw he had only one dog, so they decided to hunt him instead. They say a man is very good eating. So he ran for the island. Because he knew if he could climb high up on the tall rocks they couldn’t climb up after him. He had to take his dog by the scruff of the neck to help him. And of course when he got up high he could see everything—the two cows who were grazing in the middle of the island and the narrow passage between the rocks, and the wolves running around and around looking for a place where they could get in. “The cows couldn’t see the wolves, but they could hear them. So one of them, who was an old cow and very wise, galloped over to the passage. And when the wolves got there she was stopping the way with her sharp horns. “I don’t know how long she could have stayed there, for there were a great many wolves and only one cow, but the man was wiser yet. He saw a big tippy boulder that he could roll down to block the passage so nobody could possibly get in. And he gave it a big shove. Smash, it went down right in the middle of the wolves! It killed the leader and another wolf, and the rest got scared and ran away. “So did the cow, for the man’s dog started right after her. But the man called him back. ‘Come here!’ he called. ‘Stop that, you foolish thing. The wolves would have picked our bones if she hadn’t helped us. That’s one cow you can never kill.’ “The dog came back with his tail between his legs, grumbling to himself. ‘This is very queer. It’s the first time in all my life I was told not to kill anything.’ And of course the cow heard him. And it set her thinking.” <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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