"David Drake - Old Nathan (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

with him out the back door.

Boardman was trudging up the slope from the creek, a hundred yards from the cabin. His boots were
slipping, and he held the dipper out at arm's length to keep from sloshing his coat and trousers further.
Old Nathan's plowland was across the creek; on the cabin side he pastured his two cows and Spanish
King, the three of them now watching their master over the rail fence as their jaws ratcheted sideways
and back to grind their food.

"Not so bad a day, King," said Old Nathan to his bull while his eyes followed the approach of his
stumbling, swearing visitor.

"No rain in it, at least," the bull replied. He watched both Boardman and the cunning man, his jaws
working and his hump giving him the look of being ready to crash through the hickory rails. The fence
wouldn't hold King in a real rage. Most likely the log walls of the cabin would stop him, but even that was
a matter of likelihood rather than certainty.

"Any chance we might be goin' out, thin?" Spanish King added in a rumble.

"Maybe some, maybe," Old Nathan admitted.

"Good," said the bull.

He wheeled away from the fence, appearing to move lightly until his splayed forehooves struck the
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ground again and the soil shook with the impact. King stretched his legs out until his deep chest rubbed
the meadow while his tail waved like a flagstaff above his raised haunches. His bellow drove the cows
together in skittish concern and made Boardman glance up in terror that almost dumped the gourdful of
water a few steps from delivering it.

"You hevn't a ring in thet bull's nose," said the visitor when he had recovered himself and handed the
gourdтАФstill half fullтАФover to Old Nathan. "D'ye trust him so far?"

"I trust him t' go on with what he's about," said the cunning man, "though I twisted the bridge out'n his
nose t' stop it. Some folk er ruled more by pain thin others are."

"Some bulls, you mean," said Boardman.

"Thet too," Old Nathan agreed as he emptied the gourd into the soup plate and handed the dipper back
to his visitor. "Now, John Boardman, you carry this back to its peg, and then go set on the porch fer a
time. I reckon yer horse is latherin' hisself fer nervousness with the noise." A quick nod indicated Spanish
King. The bull had begun rubbing the sides of his horns, one and then the other, on the ground while he
snorted.

"Well, but what's yer answer?" Boardman pressed.

"Ye'llgit my answer when I come out and give it to you, boy," said the cunning man, peevish at being