Oh, they were brave little beasts, these wild Scotch bullocks, wild and fleecy.

Suddenly one of them snorted, ducked its head, and backed.
'Hue! Hi-eee!' came a sudden loud shout from the edge of the grove.

The cattle broke and fell back quite spontaneously, went running up the hill, their fleece waving like fire to their motion.

Gudrun stood suspended out on the grass, Ursula rose to her feet.
It was Gerald and Birkin come to find them, and Gerald had cried out to frighten off the cattle.
'What do you think you're doing ?' he now called, in a high, wondering vexed tone.
'Why have you come ?' came back Gudrun's strident cry of anger.
'What do you think you were doing ?' Gerald repeated, auto-matically.
'We were doing eurythmics,' laughed Ursula, in a shaken voice.
Gudrun stood aloof looking at them with large dark eyes of resentment, suspended for a few moments.

Then she walked away up the hill, after the cattle, which had gathered in a little, spell-bound cluster higher up.
'Where are you going ?' Gerald called after her.