he enormous form of
the great black bull, which stood there pawing the ground impatiently,
and tossing his giant horns as though he were warning trespassers to
beware of venturing upon his domains. Slightly lower down among the
furze and the heather, and only about three hundred yards away from us,
we could distinguish Ernestine's blue dress, and the flutter of the red
ribbon in her hat. She was walking slowly along, stooping every now and
then to pick a flower, or pausing to look at the scene around her, and
evidently utterly unconscious of the huge monster which was grazing on
the hill-side above her. We called wildly to her, but the wind was in
the opposite direction, and she could not hear us.

"We _must_ save her, Cathy!" I cried. "Perhaps the bull won't see us.
Let us follow her quietly, and tell her to come back before it's too
late."

[Illustration: "I FOUND MYSELF FLUNG INTO THE STREAM BELOW"]

But the bull had seen her already, and with a low roaring noise it began
to move slowly down the side of the hill, snuffing the air as it went.
Roused at last by the sound, Ernestine turned round. For one moment she
stood almost fixed to the spot with horror, then with a wild shriek of
fear she flung down her flowers, and ran back as fast as she could in
the direction of the stile over the wall.

"Stop! Stop! Don't run! It will be sure to follow you!" shouted Cathy;
but even if Ernestine heard her, I doubt if she would have had the
self-control to stay her flying footsteps. It was too late, for with a
loud bellow the great animal was rushing madly after her down the slope.
It seemed impossible that she could reach the wall in time. There was
only a moment in which to save her, but I had read in books that a bull
always charges blindly, and quick as thought I pulled off my jacket, and
dashed forward.

"Run, Ernestine! Run!" I cried. "Run, Cathy! The stile! The stile!"

It was almost upon her, but even as it put down its head to charge, I
flung my jacket over its horns, and, taking advantage of the few seconds
of delay thus gained, I fled on wings of terror after the others to the
stile. How I scrambled over, I can never remember; I know I fell on
Cathy and Ernestine at the bottom. We all lay there for a few moments
nearly dead with fright, imagining that the bull would leap after us,
but the wall was high, and the stile very steep, and though we could
hear its angry mutterings within a few feet of us, it was not abl