CHAPTER XV
LOST
Nort and Dick had heard and read so much about a cattle stampede, andheard such a calamity discussed at the ranch house so often, that theyrather welcomed, than otherwise, the announcement that one was beingstaged near them. This was before they realized the full import of it,and saw the danger.
It was like a prairie fire--they had not realized it could be soterrible and menacing until they actually saw it. And see it they did.
There was needed but a quick backward glance to show that a great fear,or rage, which is almost the same, had entered into the three hundredsteers (more or less) that were being driven onward.
At one moment the cattle had been progressing in what might be termedorderly fashion. Now and then a steer would try to break out of theline of march, only to be quickly hazed in again by one of the cowboys,or one of the trio of boy ranchers. But now the whole herd hadsuddenly been galvanized into action, and that action took the form ofrunning forward at top speed.
It would not have been so bad, perhaps, if the stampede had startedfrom in front. If the forward ranks of cattle had begun to raceonward, those behind would simply have followed, and there wouldgradually have been a slackening up. Of course then there would havebeen some danger, for the front steers might have slowed down first,while those at the rear still came on, trampling under their sharphoofs those who were unlucky enough to fall.
But, as it happened, the fright had first seized on the rear bunches ofcattle and these had started to run, charging in upon those in front ofthem, who, in turn, were hurled forward until now, a few seconds afterBud had shouted the alarm, the whole herd was in wild motion.
"Come on!" yelled Bud. "Ride for it! Oh, zowie, boy! Ride for it!Ride like Zip Foster would!" and with voice, reins and spurs he urgedhis pony forward.
"What do you aim to do?" shouted Dick in his cousin's ear as the twothudded along side by side.
"We've got to get far enough ahead so we can try to turn 'em!" yelledBud. "It's our only chance. Ride straight ahead!"
Nort spurred up alongside of his cousin and brother, and, as he did sohe yelled:
"What you s'pose started 'em off, Bud?"
"Haven't any time to do any s'posin' now!" was the grim answer. "Rideon and say your prayers that your pony doesn't step in a prairie dog'shole. If he does--and you fall--good night!"
The recent tenderfeet knew, without being told, what was meant. To godown before a herd of wild cattle, infuriated because they werefrightened, would mean sure death and in horrible form.
As Nort looked back, to see what distance lay between himself andcomrades, and the foremost of the herd, he saw several figures onhorseback at one side of the running animals. At first he imaginedthese were Diamond X cowboys who had been in the rear of the steers,and he thought they had ridden up to help the boy ranchers turn thestampeded animals. But another look showed him the men who had been inthe rear still in those positions, though they were spurring forward attop speed.
"Look, Bud!" cried Nort. He pointed to the four figures--there were nomore than that--at the left of the galloping herd.
"Rustlers--Greasers!" shouted Bud. "They started this stampede!"
"What for?" Dick wanted to know. "They can't hope to run off any underour eyes, can they?"
"They're doing it to get fresh meat!" declared Bud, who never ceased,all this while, to urge his pony forward, an example followed by hiscousins with their horses. "They think some steer, or maybe half adozen, will fall and be trampled to death. Then they'll have all thebeef they can eat--for nothing. They started this stampede, or I'llnever speak to Zip Foster again."
By this time, knowing Bud as they did, Nort and Dick had ceased to askabout the mysterious Zip Foster. But Nort could not forego thequestion:
"How'd they do it?"
"Do what?" grunted Bud, as he skillfully turned his pony away from aprairie dog's hole.
"Start this stampede."
"Hanged if I know. They might have been lying in wait for us to comealong--hidden out on the range, and they may have all jumped up withwhoops, waving their hats, and setting the steers off that way, when wedidn't happen to be looking. But that's where the disturbance camefrom all right!"
With snorts, bellows and heavy breathing the steers came on. Some wereold Texas longhorns, but many of the cattle on the Diamond X ranch, andthe adjacent possessions of Mr. Merkel, had been dehorned. It wasfound that more animals could be packed in a car when they had nointerfering horns, and the practice is becoming general of taking thehorns off western stock.
But even though some were without horns, this herd was sufficientlydangerous. The first thought of Bud and his cousins was to put all thedistance possible between them and the foremost of the steers. Thisthey had now done. And it was becoming evident that unless some of theleaders tripped and went down, there was to be no disastrous piling upof animals one on the other. The leaders ran well, and the othersfollowed.
The rustlers, if such they were, seemed to realize that their desperateplan had failed, for, so far, not a beef had fallen. And the Greasers,off to one side, dared not try to cut out, and run off, any animals.To have ventured into the midst of that charging herd would have beenmadness.
"Come on! Let's see if we can turn 'em!" urged Bud, drawing his gun,an example followed by Nort and Dick. Led by the son of the owner ofDiamond X, the boy ranchers charged down on the oncoming herd, fromwhich they had just ridden away. But now they had the advantage. Theystood a better chance. If they could turn the leaders, sending them ina circle, the other animals would follow, and soon the whole bunchwould be "milling," which is the most desired way to stop a stampede.
"Come on! Come a ridin'! Whoop-ee!" shrilly cried Bud, yelling,waving his hat in one hand and firing in the air with his gun. Nortand Dick did likewise. Straight at the cattle they rode.
It was a desperate chance, but one that had to be taken. Bud knew, ifthe others did not, that about a mile beyond lay a gully, led up to bya cliff, and if the steers and cows reached this, the leaders unable tostop, while the rear ranks pushed on, there would be a mass ofpiled-up, dead cattle to tell the story.
"We've got to stop 'em!" shouted Bud.
And stop them, or, rather, turn them, the boy ranchers did. Just whenit seemed that the wild animals would rush over, and trample down thethree lads, the foremost of the steers turned at a sharp angle, theirhoofs skidding in the soil, and swung around.
"Now we've got 'em!" cried Bud. "Make 'em mill! Make 'em mill!"
And this is what the cattle did. Around and around they ran, in a big,dusty circle, while the other Diamond X cowboys rode up.
"That was touch and go," said one of the older riders, when the herdwas comparatively quiet. "What started 'em off, Bud?"
"Didn't you see that bunch of Greasers?" asked the rancher's son.
The cowboys had not, it developed, and now, when the three boys triedto point out the rascals the quartette was not in sight. However,something else took the attention of Bud and the older cowboys. Thissomething was a small bunch of steers, galloping off by themselves, butnot being hazed by any riders.
"We can't lose them!" shouted Bud. "They belong to dad! Got to get'em back!"
"We'll go after 'em," offered Nort and Dick. "We can bring 'em back."
"Yes, I reckon you can, while we ride herd on these," said Bud. "Idon't want to take any more chances with 'em. Haze the outlaws backthis way, fellows!"
Eager to have this responsibility, and to do something "on their own,"Dick and his brother spurred away. And before they realized it, Nortand Dick found themselves down in a depression, whence they could catchsight neither of the small knot of cattle they had started out to hazeback, nor the main herd.
"Say, where are we?" asked Dick, slowing up his pony, and looking abouthim. He and Nort were down in a green valley, with hills all around,but no sign of life--animal or human. "Where are we?"
Nort p
aused a moment before replying. Then, as he drew rein andlistened, he said:
"Lost, I reckon!"
Boy Ranchers; Or, Solving the Mystery at Diamond X Page 15