Suddenly through the mist of mosquitoes came a dull whack and an outburst of "language". The cow went on placidly chewing till Fred got on his feet and furiously attacked her with the milking-stool. It was bad enough to be whacked on the ear with a brick by a stupid old cow, but the uproarious enjoyment and ridicule of the bystanders made it unendurable.
Bingo, hearing the uproar, and divining that he was needed, rushed in and attacked Dunne on the other side. Before the affair quieted down the milk was spilt, the pail and stool were broken, and the cow and the dog severely beaten.
Poor Bingo could not understand it at all. He had long ago learned to despise that cow, and now in utter disgust he decided to forsake even her stable door, and from that time he attached himself exclusively to the horses and their stable.
The cattle were mine, the horses were my brother' s, and in transferring his allegiance from the cow-stable to the horse-stable Bingo seemed to give me up too, and anything like daily companionship ceased, and yet, whenever any emergency arose Bingo turned to me and I to him, and both seemed to feel that the bond between man and dog is one that lasts as long as life.
Bingo' s loyalty to the horses was quite remarkable; by day he trotted beside them, and by night he slept at the stable door. Where the team went Bingo went, and nothing kept him away from them. This interesting assumption of ownership lent the greater significance to the following circumstance.
I was not superstitious, and up to this time had had no faith in omens, but was now deeply impressed by a strange occurrence in which Bingo took a leading part. There were but two of us now living on the De Winton Farm. One morning my brother set out for Boggy Creek for a load of hay. It was a long day' s journey there and back, and he made an early start. Strange to tell, Bingo for once in his life did not follow the team. My brother called to him, but still he stood at a safe distance, and eying the team askance, refused to stir. Suddenly he raised his nose in the air and gave vent to a long, melancholy howl. He watched the wagon out of sight, and even followed for a hundred yards or so, raising his voice from time to time in the most doleful howlings. All that day he stayed about the barn, the only time that he was willingly separated from the horses, and at intervals howled a very death dirge. I was alone, and the dog' s behavior inspired me with an awful foreboding of calamity, that weighed upon me more and more as the hours passed away.
About six o' clock Bingo' s howlings became unbearable, so that for lack of a better thought I threw something at him, and ordered him away. But oh, the feeling of horror that filled me! Why did I let my brother go away alone? Should I ever again see him alive? I might have known from the dog' s actions that something dreadful was about to happen.
At length the hour for his return arrived, and there was John on his load. I took charge of the horses, vastly relieved, and with an air of assumed unconcern, asked, "All right?"
"Right," was the laconic answer.
Who now can say that there is nothing in omens.
And yet when, long afterward, I told this to one skilled in the occult, he looked grave, and said, "Bingo always turned to you in a crisis?"
"Yes."
"Then do not smile. It was you that were in danger that day; he stayed and saved your life, though you never knew from what."
1882年，宾戈在我们家的小木屋里度过了那个冬季余下的时光。他是一只胖胖的、笨笨的，但心地善良的小狗。他每天总是毫无节制地吃东西，于是他长得越来越大，也越来越笨。即使悲惨的经历也不曾教会他一定要让鼻子远离捕鼠夹。他对猫极为友好，却被猫完全误解了，因此导致了一场武装对立。这场偶尔会因恐惧才会有所变化的对立一直僵持到最后，直至早就显示出聪明头脑的宾戈懂得了干脆离开小木屋睡到谷仓里才算了结。
春天来了，我开始认真地对他进行训练。我费了很大的周折，宾戈也费了很大的劲儿。他慢慢地学会了随时听从命令去跟踪我们家那头老黄牛，那头牛总在没有栅栏约束的草地上随意吃草。
一旦学会了他要做的事，他就会全身心地去做这件分内之事，没有比要他去追回老黄牛更令他高兴的事了。他一下蹿得老远，兴奋地上蹿下跳，欢快地狂吠，并往空中跳得老高，这样有助于他更好地通过查看草地来寻找猎物。不一会儿，他便会拼命地往回跑，把牛赶在他面前。老黄牛气喘吁吁，上气不接下气，在被安全赶进牛棚最远的某个角落之前，他是不会让老黄牛有片刻休息的。
他如果不这么卖力，会令我们更满意。不过，我们一直对他都很宽容，直到他对这每天两次的“搜捕”活动喜欢到不用督促就主动去找“老邓恩”的时候。后来，这只精力旺盛的牧牛狗不是一天一两次地去履行自己的职责，而是一天十几次地把老黄牛赶回牛棚。
再后来，事情到了这种程度：无论什么时候，只要宾戈想稍微活动一下，或者想有几分钟的闲暇时间，甚至是刚好想放松一下，他就撒腿向草地飞奔，几分钟后又跑回来，拼命地把那头倒霉的老黄牛赶在前面。
最初，这看起来并不糟糕，因为他这样做可以使牛不至于跑得太远；但不久，我们便发现他这样做使老黄牛不能吃草。她瘦了，挤出的奶也越来越少，总是忧心忡忡的样子，因为她始终要紧张兮兮地警惕着那只恶狗，每天早晨她只在牛棚附近转转，似乎不敢贸然远走，免得自己立刻遭到攻击。
宾戈简直太过分了。我们想尽了一切办法让他有所收敛，但都无济于事。我们索性迫使他放弃自己的乐趣。自那以后，虽然他不敢再赶老黄牛回家了，但他对老黄牛依然有着浓厚的兴趣，他会躺在牛棚门口看挤奶。
夏天来了，蚊多如灾，在挤奶的时候，邓恩不得不把尾巴摆来摆去的，以驱赶蚊子，这比蚊子本身还招人烦。
弗莱德，就是负责挤奶的那位老兄，是个极有发明天赋的人，也是个极没有耐心的人，他想出了一个简单的制止牛摆尾巴的方法。他在牛尾巴上绑了一块砖头，就开开心心地开始工作了，他对这与众不同的办法很放心，我们其他人却对此表示怀疑，都站在旁边看着。
突然，蚊群中传来了一声沉闷的撞击声和一阵“破口大骂”，老黄牛静静地嚼着草，弗莱德站起身来，愤怒地举着挤奶用的凳子扔向她。被这个蠢笨的老黄牛的尾巴上的砖头砸到头，已经够糟糕了，何况还有围观的人群的哄笑声，这更让他难以忍受。
宾戈听到了吵闹声，以为有人需要他的帮助，便冲过去从另一侧向邓恩发起攻势。待到事件平息下来时，牛奶都洒了，盆子和凳子也都破了，奶牛和狗都狠狠地挨了一顿揍。
可怜的宾戈还不知道究竟为什么自己会挨打。他早就知道该鄙视这头牛。从这以后，因为对她极为讨厌，他决定不再跨过牛棚的门槛，从那时起，他便全心全意地守护在马厩旁看着马群。
我养牛，我的兄弟养的是马，宾戈把忠心从牛棚转移到了马棚，好像连我也一并放弃了，他每天不再跟着我玩，但只要一有紧急情况出现，宾戈总会来帮我，我也会去帮他。我们似乎都有一种感觉——人狗之间的这种感情要持续一辈子。
宾戈对马的忠心显而易见：白天跟着马群东奔西跑，夜里睡在马厩门口。马队到哪里，他就到哪里，没有什么力量可以使他离开马群。他全然一副主人的样子，这种关系很有趣，也使后来发生的那件事显得意味深长。
我不是一个迷信之人，迄今为止我也不相信什么征兆之类的事，但有一件怪事给我留下了深刻的印象，宾戈就是这件事的主角。那时，我们当中有两个人住在德温顿农场。一天早上，我的兄弟要到沼泽湾去买一车草料，来回需要整整一天的时间，所以一大早我的兄弟就出发了。说来奇怪，那天是宾戈一生中唯一一次例外，他没跟马车去，只是目送着马队，一动不动。突然，他仰面朝天，一声忧郁的长嚎划破了天际，他望着马车渐行渐远，直至消失在视野中，他还尾随马队跑了大约100码远，不时地发出最悲惨、凄凉的嚎叫。那天，他一直都待在谷仓周围，这是他唯一一次主动自愿与马队分离，他每隔一会儿就像哭丧似的嚎叫一声。我一个人静静地待着，狗的行为让我预感到大祸即将临头，并且时间过得越久，这种预感就越压得我透不过气来。
大约６点钟时，宾戈的嚎叫变得更加令人难以忍受，我不假思索，随手抓起一样东西朝他扔去，并命令他走开。但是，天啊，心中的那种恐惧感却怎么也摆脱不了！我怎么能让我的兄弟一个人去了呢？他还能活着回来吗？我本可以从狗的行为中察觉到有可怕、不幸的事情发生。
终于熬到了我的兄弟约翰该回来的时候了，他驾着马车回来，我接管过马群，大大舒了一口气。我装着漫不经心的样子问：“一切都顺利吧？”
“还好。”他回答。
现在没人敢断定前兆一点意义都没有。
