CHASED BY A STAMPEDING HERD
"Whoa-oo-ope! Whoa-oo-ope!"
The long soothing cry echoed from guard to guard.
It was the call of the cowman, in an effort to calm the frightened
animals. Here and there a gun would flash as the guards shot in front of
the stampeding herd, hoping thereby to turn the rush and set the animals
going about more in a circle in order to keep them together until they
could finally be quieted.
It was all a mad chaos of noise and excitement to the lad who sat in his
saddle hesitatingly, not knowing exactly what was expected of him under
the circumstances.
Off toward the camp a succession of flashes like fireflies told the
cowpunchers on guard that their companions were racing to their
assistance as fast as horseflesh could carry them.
The storm had disturbed the herd from the instant of the first flash of
lightning, and, as other flashes followed, the excitement of the animals
increased until, at last, throwing off all restraint, they dashed
blindly for the open prairie.
Desperately as the guards struggled to turn the herd, their efforts had
no more effect than if they had been seeking to beat back the waves of
the sea.
Tad was recalled to a realization of his position when, in a dazzling
flash of lightning, he caught a momentary glimpse of Big-foot Sanders
bearing down on him at a tremendous speed. Tad saw something else,
too--a surging mass of panic-stricken cattle, heads hanging low, horns
glistening and eyes protruding, sweeping toward him.
"Ride! Ride!" shouted Big-foot.
"Wh--where?" asked Tad in as strong a voice as he could command.
"Keep out of their way. Work up to the point as soon as you can and try
to point in the leaders. We've got to keep the herd from scattering.
I'll stay in the center and lead them till the others get here. Bob will
send along some of the fellows to help you as soon as possible."
While delivering his orders Big-foot had turned his pony, and, with Tad,
was riding swiftly in advance of the cattle, in the same direction that
they were traveling. To have paused where they were would have meant
being crushed and trampled beneath the hoofs of the now maddened
animals.
"Now, git!"
Tad pulled his pony slightly to the right.
"Use your gun!" shouted Big-foot. "Burn plenty of powder in front of
their noses if they press you too closely!"
He had forgotten that the lad did not carry a gun, nor did he realize
that he was sending the boy into a situation of the direst peril.
Tad, by this time, had a pretty fair idea of the danger of the task that
had been assigned to him. But he was not the boy to flinch in an
emergency.
Pressing the rowels of his spurs against the flanks of the reaching pony
and urging the little animal on with his voice, Tad swept obliquely
along in front of the herd.
Now and then a flash of lightning would show him a solid mass of cattle
hurling themselves upon him. At such times the lad would swerve his
mount to the left a little and shoot ahead for a few moments, in an
attempt to get sufficient lead of them to enable him to reach the right
or upper end of the line.
In this way Tad Butler soon gained the outside of the leaders. By
dropping back and working up the line, he pointed them in to the best of
his ability.
The lightning got into his eyes as he strained them wide open to take
account of his surroundings. He would pass a hand over his face
instinctively, as if to brush the flash away, groping for an instant for
his bearings after he had done so.
He remembered what Bob Stallings had said in speaking of a stampede.
"Keep them straight and hold them together. That's all you can do. You
can't stop them," the foreman had said.
The lad was doing this now as best he could, yet he wondered that none
of the cowmen had come to his assistance.
Again and again did Tad Butler throw his pony against the great
unreasoning wave on the right of the line, and again and again was he
buffeted back, only to return to the battle with desperate courage.
All at once the lad found himself almost surrounded by the beasts. A
lightning flash had shown him this at the right time. Had it been a few
seconds later Tad must have gone down under their irresistible rush.
The pony, seeming to realize the danger fully as much as did its rider,
bent every muscle in its little body to bear itself and rider to safety.
Yet try as they would, they were unable to get back to the right point
to take up the turning work again.
The cattle had closed in about the lad in almost a crescent formation,
Tad's position being about the center of it.
"Whoa-oo-ope! Whoa-oo-ope!" shouted Tad, taking up the cry that he had
heard the cowboys utter earlier in the stampede.
His voice was lost in the roar of the storm and the thunder of the
rushing herd.
Tad realized that there was only one thing left for him to do. That was
to keep straight ahead and ride. He would have to ride fast, too, if he
were to keep clear of the long-legged Mexican cattle.
They were descending a gradual slope that led down into a broad, sandy
arroyo where still stood the rotting stumps of oak and cottonwood trees
that once lined the ancient water course.
By this time the main herd lay to the rear nearly two miles, the cattle
having separated into several bands. However, the lad was unaware of
this.
Suddenly, in the darkness, rider and pony crashed into a dense mesquite
thicket.
There was not a second to hesitate, for they were already in. The
leading cattle tore in after Tad with a crashing of brush and a rattle
of horns--sounds that sent a chill up and down his spine in spite of all
the lad's sturdy courage.
The herd was closing in on him, leaving the boy no alternative but to go
through the thicket himself, and to go fast at that.
Tad formed his plan instantly. He made up his mind to ride it out and
let his pony have its own way. Yet the boy never expected to come
through the mesquite thicket without being swept from his pony and
trampled under the feet of the savage steers.
He gave the pony a free rein, clutched both cantle and pommel of the
saddle and braced himself for the shock that he was sure would come. The
cow pony tore through the growth at a fearful pace, while the boy's
clothes hung in shreds where they had been raked by the mesquite thorns.
All at once Tad felt himself going through the air with a different
motion. He realized that he was falling. The pony had stumbled and with
its rider was plunging headlong to the ground. The cattle were
thundering down upon them.