I had left the trees half a mile behind me, and
was walking hurriedly along towards the valley of the Yi, when, passing
over a hillock, I suddenly found myself in sight of a bull resting on
the grass and quietly chewing his cud. Unfortunately the brute saw me
at the same moment and immediately stood up. He was, I think, about
three or four years old, and a bull of that age is even more dangerous
than an older one; for he is quite as truculent as the other and far
more active. There was no refuge of any kind near, and I knew very
well that to attempt to escape by running would only increase my danger,
so after gazing at him for a few moments I assumed an easy, unconcerned
manner and walked on; but he was not going to be taken in that way,
and began to follow me. Then for the first, and I devoutly hope for
the last, time in my life I was compelled to resort to the gaucho plan,
and, casting myself face downwards on the earth, lay there simulating
death. It is a miserable, dangerous expedient, but, in the circumstances
I found myself, the only one offering a chance of escape from a very
terrible death. In a few moments I heard his heavy tramp, then felt
him sniffing me all over. After that he tried unsuccessfully to roll
me over, in order to study my face, I suppose. It was horrible to
endure the prods he gave me and lie still, but after a while he grew
quieter, and contented himself by simply keeping guard over me;
occasionally smelling at my head, then turning round to smell at my
heels.
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