Читать книгу Shadow, the Sheep-Dog - Enid blyton - Страница 7

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Shadow, the sheep-dog puppy, made many other friends besides the dogs. He was an inquisitive little fellow and liked to know everything and everyone. When Johnny was at school, Shadow ran round the farmyard, when he was not out in the fields, and spoke to all the other creatures.

He knew the hens, especially the big red hen in the coop, whose twelve little chicks ran cheeping in the yard. He knew the two big cocks, and kept out of their way, for they could strike hard with their clawed feet. He knew the waddling ducks, and liked them. They were friendly and fond of a joke.

The big red hen made a great noise whenever Shadow came near, and at first he was afraid of her. Then he saw that she made the noise, not so much to frighten him, as to call in her chicks.

“You see,” explained the red hen one morning, “I can’t get out of this horrid coop to call my chicks to me. They are small enough to run out between the bars, but I can’t. So when I see danger I cry loudly to them, and they know my call and come running to hide under my wings.”

Shadow had been most astonished the first time he had seen the chicks run into the coop. They had rushed there—and then completely disappeared!

Shadow looked into the coop. No—there was no one there but the big red hen, clucking loudly at him, telling him to go away or she would peck his nose and ears.

“I shan’t hurt you,” wuffed Shadow. “But do tell me where your chicks are? I can’t see one. Have you eaten them?”

“Eaten my own chicks! What a silly pup you are!” clucked the red hen. “No—my chicks are all here, every one of them!”

Shadow looked again—and then he saw that the chicks had hidden themselves in the fluffed-out feathers of the mother-hen! One tiny yellow chick peeped from the neck-feathers and two more put out little heads from under a wing. Others peeped from the breast-feathers—and then, as they saw that Shadow was not going to do them any harm, they all crept out once more and ran around the coop.

“It looked as if you had about twelve heads when your chicks peeped out of your feathers!” said Shadow. “Look, there goes a chick out of the coop! Shall I bark at it and make it go back?”

“No, thank you. You would frighten it,” said the red hen. “But I wish you could let me out of this coop. I am sure that the farmer’s wife has forgotten that I am still shut up here.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Shadow, and he set to work to tug at a loose bar with his strong teeth. It wasn’t long before he loosened it, and the red hen, clucking gratefully, squeezed herself out of the coop.

She took her chicks to the other side of the farmyard, and then wandered out into the lane with them. There Johnny saw them when he came home from school. He rushed in to his mother.

“Mother! The red hen is out of the coop and she has taken her poor little chicks right out into the lane. They will get so tired and will be lost. Did you let the hen out?”

Now Shadow was at Johnny’s heels, of course, for he always met his little master when he came out from school. When he heard Johnny say this, his tail went right down. Tails and whiskers! Wasn’t it right to let a hen out of a coop?

Johnny’s mother ran into the yard. She saw the loose bar in the coop and guessed that the hen had squeezed past it. Then she ran to find the hen. Sure enough, there she was out in the lane, with twelve very tired little yellow chicks round her.

“You bad hen!” said the farmer’s wife, shooing the red hen into the yard. “Take your chicks to your coop. You will kill them if you take them for such long walks before their little legs are strong enough. They are only two days old!”

The red hen was angry. She clucked loudly, but she had to go back to the coop. Johnny nailed back the loose bar. Shadow sat beside him, ears and tail drooping, feeling very miserable. He put his nose on Johnny’s knee. Johnny looked at him.

“Yes—I know what you are trying to tell me, Shadow,” he said. “It was you who let out the hen! I saw your teeth-marks on the bar. Don’t interfere with the other creatures, Shadow. If they are shut up, there’s a reason for it. Stick to your own job!”

“Woof!” said Shadow, and his tail began to wag just a little bit. He looked into the coop. The red hen was lying down, her beautiful shining feathers fluffed out all around her. Not a chick to be seen. They were all asleep in her feathers, tired out.

“You might have done a lot of harm, Shadow,” said Johnny. “It’s a good thing I came home when I did. Now just see if you can do something to make up for that!”

So Shadow looked about for something good to do. But he couldn’t find anything at all. The ducks swam on the pond and didn’t want any help. The pigs grunted in the sty, and were too sleepy to talk to him. The calves in the meadow ran off when he went near them, and the old cart-horses were too busy even to look at him. Nobody wanted any help. There was nothing he could do.

But the next day something happened. Shadow was running down the lane, nose to the ground, following a most exciting rabbit-track, when he heard a bellowing noise. He looked up in fright, and saw that he was by the orchard where Pincher the bull was kept. And something had plainly made Pincher very angry indeed!

PINCHER STOOD BY THE HEDGE BELLOWING.

He stood by the hedge bellowing. Shadow saw two boys running off down the lane and he guessed that they had been teasing the bull. He decided that he wouldn’t stay there in the lane in case Pincher thought that he, Shadow, had something to do with the teasing and tried to get at him.

So he turned to go back to the farm. Pincher caught sight of him and bellowed loudly again. The bull pushed himself against the hedge—and the hedge, which was half-bramble and half-fence there, gave way! Pincher made his way out, and stood in the lane, snorting down his ringed nose.

Shadow looked at the bull. He saw Pincher’s horns and knew that they could toss a little dog into the air just as easily as a man tosses a pitchfork of hay. He heard the bull’s bellow, and he was afraid.

He turned to run, and the bull put down his big head and went after him. And then Shadow remembered something. He remembered that a bull in a temper may attack anyone he meets—and Johnny was coming home from the village in a few minutes!

Suppose the bull met Johnny! He would go after him and toss him into the air. No—that would never do. Shadow would rather be tossed by a bull himself than see Johnny come to any harm! So the little dog suddenly turned himself round and faced the snorting animal.

SHADOW SUDDENLY TURNED HIMSELF ROUND AND FACED THE SNORTING ANIMAL.

“Wooff, wooff!” said Shadow, in his very loudest voice. Then he growled, “Grr-rr-rr-rr-rr! Grr-rr-rr-rr-rr!”

The bull stopped in surprise. He was not used to being faced by anything. Most things ran when he bellowed. He stared at Shadow—and then he ran at him!

Shadow slipped to one side and missed the bull’s horns, as Pincher put down his great head to toss him. He snapped at the bull’s legs. Pincher hated that. He tried to toss Shadow again, but the brave little dog dodged him cleverly and snapped at Pincher’s legs once more, giving him a very nasty nip.

Pincher stood still and thought a little. It was the first time he had been out of the orchard for a long while. He liked the orchard. He felt strange out here in the lane.

Then a train down in the village gave a loud screech. Pincher bellowed at it. Shadow jumped at the bull’s swinging tail and bit it hard.

Pincher snorted and turned round. That was just what Shadow wanted! The bull was now facing towards the orchard again. Maybe Shadow could get him on the run and make him go back!

He barked around Pincher. The bull began to move back to the orchard—and then Shadow saw Johnny coming down the lane! He wuffed to him in dismay:

“Don’t come near. Go and fetch help! The bull is out!”

Johnny saw the bull. He saw Shadow barking round him. He knew that it was of no use trying to get the bull back himself, and he hurried to the barns where the men were working, shouting to them as he went. How he hoped that Shadow would be safe! He couldn’t, couldn’t bear his puppy to be tossed by the bull.

“Pincher’s out! Quick! Pincher’s out!” yelled the boy. The men came running out of the barn. They took pitchforks and went up the lane. Pincher took one look at them. He wondered if he should charge them and see how many he could toss—but then he saw their pitchforks and he made up his mind that he had better be sensible.

Just at that moment Shadow snapped at his heels. That was too much! The bull gave a bellow of pain and cantered back to the orchard. One of the men had already opened the gate and the bull trotted calmly through it. In a trice the gate was shut and two of the men were mending the gap in the fence.

“Good for you, Shadow!” said Johnny. “You stood up well to old Pincher! I’m proud of you!”

Well, of course, Shadow was as pleased as a dog with two tails, and he wagged his own so fast that it could hardly be seen. More than anything in the world he liked being praised by Johnny. He rushed off to tell the hens, the ducks, the pigs, the other dogs, and the horses.

THE RED HEN CACKLED AND TOLD SHADOW NOT TO BE VAIN.

But they did not mean to make Shadow conceited! Only the little chicks listened in wonder to his tale of the bull. The red hen cackled and told him not to be vain. The pigs grunted and said that they were not afraid of the bull! The ducks didn’t even bother to listen. They slid into the pond and splashed the proud little puppy as they went.

The big cart-horse listened to Shadow’s tale and then stamped his foot hard in a nearby puddle. Mud flew up into the air and fell all over the puppy from head to tail! What a mess he was in!

“What did you do that for, you unkind horse!” cried Shadow, shaking himself well. “You be careful! If I can tackle a bull, I can chase you too!”

The horse whinnied with laughter, and stamped again. Shadow ran away, angry and disappointed. Why were all the creatures so horrid to him just when he had been so clever and brave?

Tinker told him why. “We don’t run round talking about the wonderful things we have done!” he said. “We let others tell about our brave or good deeds, Shadow. You will get vain and conceited if we all listen to you and praise you. After all, you only did what any of us dogs would have done.”

“I’m sorry,” said Shadow, ashamed. “I won’t say a single word more, Tinker. Really I won’t.”

And he didn’t—and then found to his surprise that everyone spoke to him about his adventure with the bull! Well, well—Shadow was learning a few lessons and having a good many adventures. And so long as Johnny was pleased with him, that was all that mattered!