26th June, A fat ox with evil will

"There, ain't so bad, is it," Cotton said soothingly. "You didn't ought to go runnin' amok like that, ain't healthy. You jus' calm down now an' don't be so silly as to go off again."

He turned to look at Pye, and spoke so the lad could hear him, still keeping his voice calm and soothing for the ox's benefit. "Could you put the rest down here, like? Don't shake the blanket out, just turn it over quiet-like to empty it; we'll shake it off away from here."

The ox eyed Cotton as if he wished to dispute his statement about being silly, but he munched the hay nontheless. When he discovered the additional hay in the blanket, he made a few steps towards it, trying to get his nose into the folds, and when this didn't work well, started chewing the edge of the blanket along with the hay.

"Cotton seems to have things in hand," Vickery said quietly to Torrington, watching the older Rifleman gesture to Pye to turn the blanket over to get all the hay out of it before the ox ate it, blanket and all.

"Indeed. He only needs to fix that rope again."

Edward kept a sharp eye on the surroundings. If anything happend to set the herd off, Cotton and Pye would be in a very dangerous position. Suddenly he stiffled a laugh behind a cough and touched Vickery's shoulder, indicating a rather curious creature coming towards them.

He was battered liked a boxer after loosing a fight, and decidedly worse for wear after having bathed in mud; the steady string of profanities and promises of a dreadful fate and the large rectangular knife he brandished promised nothing good for the intended recipient; the large butcher's apron worn over the uniform made it likely that it would be the ox.

Edward raised an appreciatve eyebrow. All in all the figure looked like one of Cruikshank's caricatures had come to life.

"Perhaps we should delay his quest for venegance a bit! Not even an ox can misread his current intentions", he suggested, his tone carefully neutral.

"Easy. No munching on the blanket." Pye protested and then slowly tugged the thing from the ox before kneeling down. He was still moving slow when he tipped the hay out of the blanket. He could feel the warm breath of the animal, so close it was. He just hoped the ox would not decide to throw his head upwards and knock the rifleman right over.

"There. Just be all calm." Pye smiled and began to move backwards , still on his knees because he did not want to make himself big all of a sudden as the ox might protest or get spooked. This of course made him not notice that a butcher was approaching them.

Either the ox had taken a liking to Pye, or he had confused his had with something to eat, but suddenly a large, wet, and surprisingly warm and heavy tongue sneaked behind his ear, ruffled his hair and swiped his shako off his head.

The animal eyed the green plume with interest for a moment, then bend his head and opened his mouth, obviously intent to find out whether it was as tasty as it looked.

Pye made a face. That was one odd, unpleasant, warm, sticky feeling! "Euch... Oi! " He uttered, hushed enough to not scare, but clearly stating his discomfort. It was not his secret dream to be kissed or licked by an ox! French or otherwise.

" Now... " He snatched the shako back and hugged it protectively. "That ain't for eatin' you doof. It's my hat!" He huffed at the big animal. "Hay, edible. This.." He patted the plume and shook his head. "Nuh uh."

That beautiful, green, tasty looking thing was taken away before he had a chance to taste it!

The ox took another step towards Pye and tried to nibble on the plume even though Pye's arms were around the shako. When he found them too much in the way, he nudged them pointedly with his surprisingly soft nose.

"That beast gnawed through the rope! Simply ate it!"

The butcher was incensed and sputtered his grievances without any ceremony to the two officers, waving his knife in a fashion that only could be described as dangerous.

"And when I tried to grab the rope, that devil draged me through the camp! On my bum! Through nettles and a campfire!"

Zachary shook his head and took a step, then two backward. "No, not good food. It's not grass, you'd loath the taste." He spoke softly, surprised at how soft and tame the nose felt against his hand. Ox was not intimidating and that, more than anything surprised him further. It was big, but could be so gentle.

"Come, you're a good one." He smiled warmly. "You won't cause any more trouble, like that eh?" Though, he thought it was rather hilarious!

The ox followed, nudging Pye with his nose again; the he flicked his ears, blew out his breath and rubbed the side of his head firmly against Pye's thigh. For him the touch was casual, but the force behind it could make a man stagger. The large horns made the whole operation a bit uncomfortable, too, especially since they curved forward and threatened to poke rather sensible parts, but the ox seemed to know astonishingly well where his headgear was and seemed inclined to stop before it actually touched skin.

"Easy. Careful, you." Pye said fondly, rather careful of where the horns were going. He patted the big animal gently on the top of his head then took a few steps in the direction he wanted him to go.

"We better get you away now... eh." He murmured to him. "Before that butcher gets to you.. .daft thing he is..." He smiled affectionately at the large beast.

The ox was quite game to follow, nipping at Pye's sleeve for a change, but then deciding that he didn't like it that much. Instead he snorted, much calmer now, and started to explore the things around Pye's waist. Was there possibly something that would taste well?

"Gabe!" Maggie gasped, though her cry was muffled with both of her hands covering her mouth. What the hell was he doing? She had heard the tumult and had been startled to find Captain Vickery's tent in a heap, and had been frightened to hear that it had been trampled by an enormous ox, and now she was terrified to see her husband standing right next to the beast, with nothing to stop it from goring him to death or stomping him to the ground and crushing every bone in his body.

Come to think of it, there was nothing to stop the animal from charging into the crowd of onlookers and trampling them all to death, including herself. She stepped closer to Captain Vickery, noting with relief that he was still alive.

"Gabe!" she hissed in a loud whisper, not wanting to startle the animal. "Get away from that ox!" After all, Pye seemed to have everything under control, and Pye didn't have a wife to take care of.

"Easy. If you're good, I'll get something delicious for you. A'right? Do you maybe like um. .fruit? "If there was any to be had, on the trees or in a storage room of some farmer, he was debating on getting it for this beast.

He heard a woman's voice stifled, yet the sound was certainly meant to travel in the direction. "Shhh, don't be afraid." He murmured quietly to the animal, keeping his voice low, but gentle.

He took more steps back, hoping the ox would follow him and hoping that they might leave the grounds without another man or woman ending up injured. So far, it was not a bad thing.

The ox had heared the voice as well and was lifting his large head in that direction, his ears flicking. But when the human that had given him food and still held some, he thought, was backing away, he shook his head violently and followed. Would the human lead him to a stack of hay perhaps?

"Good lad, Zack," Cotton murmured, not even realising that he'd called the younger lad by his first name - probably the first time he'd done so since Pye had pretended to switch sides to help engineer their escape from the French. "Easy now, boy," he added in the same quiet, soothing voice, addressing the ox which was tossing its head alarmingly, as though about to charge again.

That would be all they'd need, he thought, hoping he could be quick enough to snatch Pye out of harm's way if the beast did charge again.

Edward raised a hand as if he wanted to lay a calming hand on Maggie's arm, but then dropped it again.

"Better don't call out and stay here behind the fires. If we can keep things quiet for just another minute, the ox should be secured again."

And he'd been so focussed on what he was doing that he hadn't registered the woman's voice protesting until he glance up and saw Maggie there, near Captain Vickery. If the ox decided to run again, and ran her down...! He went cold at the thought.

"Easy, easy now, ain't no one goin' to hurt you," he said soothingly, in a calm voice that belied the sick dread he was feeling inside in case anything should happen and Maggie were to be hurt.

Pye smiled. He was still careful with the beast, leading it further and further away from the group or atleast so he hoped. It was all going so very slow, but at least the animal followed. " Yep, like that. Jus' like that. We'll see you right. " He smiled warmly at the animal, then looked at Cotton.

He smiled again, brighter this time. He had been called by his first name and while it would not have been anything special at any other time, it was now. " He's a good one." He whispered softly. " Just a bit spooked."

The ox now seemed placid enough. When he came to Cotton, though, he was briefly diverted by another large patch of possibly tasty green and experimentaly nibbled at the nearest bit.

Torrington coughed to hide unapprobriate chuckles.

"No wonder this beast follows Pye so readily - it has the same wish to eat everything available!", he commented, mostly to himself.

"Here - me jacket ain't so tasty as all that," Cotton said, chuckling a little. "I mean, I know it's green an' all, but it ain't made of grass."

The ox obviously came to the same conclusion. However, Cotton's skin was of interest, too. It smelled salty, and the ox extended his long tongue to lick the udder-like appendices that were conveniently at the right height.

"And now he's starting to eat riflemen ..." Edward breathed, but only very softly. He had no wish to add to Maggie's fears.

"Daft thing," Cotton said with a grin as the animal licked at his fingers. "So long as you don't go takin' chunks out of me, we'll be just fine."

Maggie understood that the officer was joking, but she was still nervous. "Why don't they just grab the ring in its nose, sir?" she asked, as if the officers, being officers, would be experts in all things that their men might attempt.