Garinor debated his position for a moment and then decided that running to the barn when all the other hunters would be coming by soon was not a good idea. He opted then to hide with the cows out in the field. Spinning on his heel and keeping low, Garinor headed off to the pasture and the hundred grazing bovines.
They were a merry sort of cow, chomping happily and mooing on occasion for no apparent reason. Some of them meandered or jostled each other for better grass. Garinor was able to sit down on the ground and rest. There were so many legs and hooves around that he was totally obscured from view.
The afternoon drifted into evening and nothing really happened. A few cows mistook him briefly as grass but he nudged their noses away and insisted he wasn’t all that scrawny.
The thumping sounds of happy footsteps approached and passed by. The hunters were returning with their findings. Others returned to the farm as well and Garinor changed his position so he would be ready to dart away at a moment’s notice.
The sun dipped low in the sky and most of the hunters had gone into the house. It wasn’t what went into the house that changed Garinor’s fate, but what came out.
Barking and howling, three fast dogs sped from the front porch and headed straight for the herd of cows, ready to usher them away for the night. The dogs worked tirelessly and proudly, for they loved this task. They were not only allowed to chase the dopey beasts, they were encouraged to. Snapping jaws nipped at lazy cows and sped them along the way.
Things didn’t move at first, but then Garinor felt as if he was caught up in a murky swamp. The cows all around him shuffled about, but as the ones in the back of the pack were frightened by the dogs, they crowded forward. The press of the herd against him made it hard to breathe, but he pushed onward, trying to move with the poor beasts.
Little by little, the cows took the cues from the well-trained dogs and the trickling pack turned into a mighty parade. The cows picked up speed and, like an avalanche, began running as fast as they could.
Garinor’s feet stumbled underneath him as he tried to run. He couldn’t remain crouched while he sprinted on with the pack, but it wasn’t easy to stay upright either. The cows crashed into each other as if they were so frightened they needed the physical contact with other cows to know they were still all right. Garinor tried to slow down to let the cows all pass him by, but the scared animals behind him didn’t let him through. They were pressed so close together and running so hard that Garinor’s only hope was to keep up.
One of the dogs sprinted up the side of the herd and screamed at the cows. As one, the herd shied away from the crazy canine and turned sharply. Garinor wasn’t expecting it. He was battered from one side and, caught off guard, he stumbled and fell. The ground rushed up to him, but he didn’t see it for long. One cow after another, oblivious to his fall, trampled onward thinking only to get away from the loud, barking dogs.
The stampede utterly crushed the life out of him.