But I insisted, and, like a good pony, he obeyed.

I yelled at the cow, and slapped my bat, and used my quirt.
When she had quite recovered her wind, she got slowly to her feet--and charged me in a most determined manner.
Now, a bull, or a steer, is not difficult to dodge.

He lowers his head, shuts his eyes, and comes in on one straight rush.

But a cow looks to see what she is doing; her eyes are open every minute, and it overjoys her to take a side hook at you even when you succeed in eluding her direct charge.
The pony I was riding did his best, but even then could not avoid a sharp prod that would have ripped him up had not my leather bastos intervened.

Then we retired to a distance in order to plan further; but we did not succeed in inducing that cow to revise her ideas, so at last we left her.