Flood Warning (4 page)
“You could take them to the graveyard,” Peggy said. She climbed back on her bike.
“The graveyard?” Tom and Mom said in surprise.
“My oldest brother, Jeff, is in charge of the cows while my dad is helping with the sandbags. Jeff says people are talking about moving all the dairy cows to the graveyard,” Peggy said.
Mom pursed her lips. “It
is
the only big hill around,” she said. “And there's enough clear space for the cows.”
Peggy waved goodbye and pedaled off. “Good luck!” she called over her shoulder.
Tom watched Peggy go. He wondered what fun he would miss by staying here instead of going with Peggy on the train. But then he thought of the Lone Ranger again. The masked hero wouldn't leave on an evacuation train with a bunch of women and children. He would ride alongside on his noble horse, Silver, guarding the train from outlaws. And if there were no outlaws to worry about, he would stay behind and help with the floodâeven if that meant taking care of cows.
Tom looked past Peggy to the steep mountain slopes rising in the distance. The river couldn't flood that high, but it would be impossible to get the cows up to the mountains. Down near the Fraser River, the ground was almost completely flat. If the river kept rising, it would spread out and cover all the farmland. If they didn't move the cows, the cows could drown.
There were very few high spots close by. The closest and largest one was the graveyard hill. It was covered with graves, but there was also grass.
“It could work,” Tom said.
Mom nodded.
The problem was how to get the cows to the graveyard.
“We'll pack the pickup truck with supplies, and I'll drive it,” Mom said. “The cows will have to walk, and you'll have to lead them.”
Tom's eyes widened. “Lead them down the road?”
“There's no other way,” said Mom.
As Tom and Mom loaded the truck with camping, cooking and milking supplies, Tom worried. How would he get the cows to walk down the road? And how would he get them to go where he wanted them to go?
He thought about the group of cows milling behind the mother cow as she called to her stranded calf. That mother cow was the leader. The other cows always followed her to the barn when it was time for milking. And she had followed her calf.
Tom smiled. He had an idea for how to move the cows.
When the truck was loaded and ready to go, Mom tacked a note for Dad to the back door.
Tom found the mother cow and her calf. Once more, he tied the rope around the calf's neck. He took hold of the loose end and gave a gentle tug.
“Maa!” cried the calf, resisting Tom's pull.
Tom held up a bundle of tender, sweet grass he had picked beside the driveway. The calf nosed the grass and opened her mouth. Before her teeth could get a good grip, Tom pulled the bundle out of her reach. The calf took a step after it. Tom walked forward, one hand holding the rope and the other holding the grass just out of the calf's reach. The calf followed. Then the mother cow stepped forward, too, staying close to her calf.
Tom looked behind the mother cow. The other cows and the two other calves had stepped forward as well. They were following their lead cow. Tom grinned. His plan was going to work. There was just one problem. The graveyard was three miles west. He could walk with the cows for three miles, but he wouldn't be able to hold his arm out with a handful of grass for that long. He had to think of some other way to lure the calf forward.
Tom led the calf down the driveway, away from the barn and house. The cows followed. Behind them, Mom started up the pickup truck and began to slowly follow them. Amos barked happily as he trotted up to Tom's side.
Before they had reached the road at the end of the driveway, Tom's arm was already tired from holding out the grass. He put down his arm to rest it. The calf bumped her nose against his leg as she rooted for the grass. Tom yanked it out of her reach, taking a step sideways. The calf stepped after him, and all the cows behind her began to move to the side of the driveway.
“Keep them on the road!” called Mom out the window of the truck.
Amos barked from the middle of the driveway. It looked as if he was trying to get them back on track too.
“Okay, boy,” Tom said. “We're coming.” But inside, he did not feel so sure. He looked at the road ahead. How could he possibly keep the cows walking together for three miles?
Amos took a few steps and barked again.
“Hold on⦔ Tom started to tell Amos. But then he stopped. He looked at the brown leather collar around the dog's neck.
“Wait! ” Tom told Amos. The dog sat obediently.
Tom caught up to Amos, pulling the calf along with him. Then he bent down and tucked the long blades of grass under Amos's collar.
“Okay, Amos,” Tom said. “Lead the way!”
Amos barked and jumped to his feet. He seemed to know what Tom was saying. He began trotting ahead down the center of the driveway. The calf followed.
At the end of the driveway, Amos stopped and sat while Tom checked that no cars were coming. Tom pointed Amos to the left. Amos, Tom and the calf stepped onto the road and began walking. The whole herd of dairy cows followed. Behind them, Mom followed in the truck.
They were doing it! They were walking the cows down the middle of the road. It was like a paradeâor better yet, it was like an old-fashioned cattle drive. And he and Amos were the Lone Ranger and Silver, leading the way. No cattle rustlers would get past them.
Tom wished Peggy was there to see him go by. But she had already left for the train. He continued down the road, walking proudly.
An hour later, Tom and the cows were still walking. Tom's legs felt heavy. It was getting harder and harder for him to lift one foot in front of the other. The cows were slowing down too. Tom wondered how much longer the lead calf and the others could last. They weren't used to this kind of walking. Also, it was getting late, and the adult cows would need to be milked soon.