Without halting for an instant, Snowball flung his fifteen stone against Jones’s legs.
Jones was hurled into a pile of dung and his gun flew out of his hands.
But the most terrifying spectacle of all was Boxer, rearing up on his hind legs and striking out with his great iron-shod hoofs like a stallion.
His very first blow took a stable-lad from Foxwood on the skull and stretched him lifeless in the mud.
At the sight, several men dropped their sticks and tried to run.
Panic overtook them, and the next moment all the animals together were chasing them round and round the yard.
They were gored, kicked, bitten, trampled on. There was not an animal on the farm that did not take vengeance on them after his own fashion.
Even the cat suddenly leapt off a roof onto a cowman’s shoulders and sank her claws in his neck, at which he yelled horribly.
At a moment when the opening was clear, the men were glad enough to rush out of the yard and make a bolt for the main road.
And so within five minutes of their invasion they were in ignominious retreat by the same way as they had come,
with a flock of geese hissing after them and pecking at their calves all the way.
All the men were gone except one. Back in the yard Boxer was pawing with his hoof at the stable-lad
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