When it was all over, the remaining animals, except for the pigs and dogs, crept away in a body. They were shaken and miserable.
They did not know which was more shockingthe treachery of the animals who had leagued themselves with Snowball,
or the cruel retribution they had just witnessed. In the old days there had often been scenes of bloodshed equally terrible,
but it seemed to all of them that it was far worse now that it was happening among themselves.
Since Jones had left the farm, until today, no animal had killed another animal. Not even a rat had been killed.
They had made their way on to the little knoll where the half-finished windmill stood, and with one accord they all lay down
as though huddling together for warmthClover, Muriel, Benjamin, the cows, the sheep, and a whole flock of geese and hens—
everyone, indeed, except the cat, who had suddenly disappeared just before Napoleon ordered the animals to assemble.
For some time nobody spoke. Only Boxer remained on his feet. He fidgeted to and fro, swishing his long black tail against his sides
and occasionally uttering a little whinny of surprise. Finally he said: “I do not understand it.
I would not have believed that such things could happen on our farm. It must be due to some fault in ourselves.”
“The solution, as I see it, is to work harder. From now onwards I shall get up a full hour earlier in the mornings.”
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