Day by day the whitefaced oxen toiled at the creaking
yoke, as the loads of hay and grain were jounced cumbrously over
roots and stumps of the virgin fields. Everything was promising
well, when, as usual, there came a thunderbolt out of the clear
sky. Buck, the off ox, fell sick.
Those who know little about cattle have written much of the meek
and patient ox. Those who know them well tell us that the ox is
the "most cussedest of all cussed" animals; a sneak, a bully, a
coward, a thief, a shirk, a schemer; and when he is not in
mischief he is thinking about it. The wickedest pack mule that
ever bucked his burden is a pinfeathered turtle-dove compared
with an average ox. There are some gentle oxen, but they are
rare; most are treacherous, some are dangerous, and these are
best got rid of, as they mislead their yoke mates and mislay
their drivers. Van's two oxen, Buck and Bright, manifested the
usual variety and contrariety of disposition. They were all
right when well handled, and this Rolf could do better than Van,
for he was "raised on oxen," and Van's over voluble, sputtering,
Dutch- English seemed ill comprehended of the massive yoke
beasts.
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