It was the very devil of a skeleton and it towered above the Wabbit with one staring eye and a sardonic sneer. "Give me back my herd." The Wabbit looked up and matched the sneer. "You give me back my hat." The steers were agitated. "We won't let him take us," said one who was bolder than the rest - but the devil skeleton rattled his bones at the Wabbit. "We met before, didn't we?" The Wabbit's teeth flashed. "That's for you to know and me to ignore." The herd stomped noisily in the background and the Wabbit whispered to the bold steer. "On my mark, the herd turns." The devil skeleton peered down. "Always the trickster, Wabbit?" He laughed - but it was the uneasy laughter of fear. "What's your signal, Wabbit?" whispered the steer. "I'll make a joke," said the Wabbit. "Oh no," thought the steer but he mooed details to the herd. "Then?" asked the steer. "Then charge the skeletons in a mighty stampede," advised the Wabbit. The steer thought carefully. "What's our motivation?" "Freedom!" yelled the Wabbit, and he held up his paws in an X. With lightning speed, the herd turned to face the skeletons. Nostrils flared and hooves beat the ground. "Freedom!" they mooed. "Liberty!" shouted Lapinette. "Liberty!" repeated the herd and they lowered their heads. Horns clashed and haunches flexed. The smell of anger hung in the air. The Wabbit looked at the devil skeleton. "In your place, I'd get out the way ..."
