A MYSTERY SOLVED
Frank, after that one spasm of alarm, gritted his teeth, and thought fast. He had heard the rancher, as well as the cowboys, speak of the terrors of the stampede, when the cattle were in a frenzy, through fear, and utterly beyond all management.
He knew that frequently experienced cowmen, caught in the rush of a thousand lumbering steers, had been ground to death under countless hoofs. It was so in the old days, when bison dotted the plains of the great West.
Mounted on a good horse, one might hope to ride clear of the advancing avalanche of hoofs and horns. But his steed was lame, and hardly able to limp along. The situation was one calculated to arouse a boy as he had never been awakened before in all his life.
Frank jumped upon the back of his horse. He
knew instantly that his one hope must lie in getting clear of the immense herd; and that this could only be done by either riding faster than they were going down the wide valley, or in making for the nearest hillside, where trees would offer him a refuge.
He chose the latter. Flight in a straightaway course was utterly out of the question with a cripple between his knees.
"Get up, Hector! Do your prettiest now!" he called to his horse.
The poor beast was trying his hardest to run well, but making only a pretense, after all, since that lame leg kept him from speedy progress. Doubtless Hector, being a cow pony, knew full well the nature of the peril that menaced them, and if it lay in his power he would bear his young master to a point of safety.
Frank's heart seemed to be in his throat as he leaned forward and listened to the rapidly approaching roar of hundreds upon hundreds of hoofs, mingled with the horrid clashing of horns. Added to this was the deep-toned thunder and the dazzling flashes of lightning.
Once, when he looked to the left, he could see the moving mass that was sweeping horribly close. After that he resolutely kept his attention riveted
in front, where the ridge loomed up against the darkened heavens.
Everything depended upon how far he was from the nearest trees. Seconds counted with Frank just then. The lightning flashed every quarter of a minute, and yet it seemed to him that they were ages apart.
With his heart in his throat, as it seemed, he stared ahead, and waited for the next flash to show him the worst. Unless the trees were close by, his case seemed hopeless, for the main herd appeared to have pushed over to this side of the valley, unfortunately, showing that he had picked the wrong course when he started.
Hector stumbled more than once, and Frank feared he would be thrown. He even wondered whether it would not be better for him to throw himself to the ground while he had the chance, and trust to his own legs to carry him to safety.
Then came the eagerly anticipated flash. Hope sprang anew in his breast, for he had discovered the trees close at hand. One more gallant effort on the part of the crippled pony, and they managed to pass behind the outposts of the timber, just as the beginning of the terrible rushing stampede swept by.
There Frank sat upon his pony, breathing hard,
and patting the poor animal reassuringly. He could hear the loud cries of the cowboys and Mr. Mabie as they circled about the terrified cattle, trying by every means possible to influence them to mill; but in that gloom it was impossible to carry out the usual tactics, and by degrees the sounds died away far down the valley.
Frank walked with his lame pony to the ranch house. Here he found his chums in a fright because of his absence. They were afraid he had been caught in the mad stampede and ground under the hoofs of the steers.
Mr. Mabie did not show up until long after midnight. The storm had passed away, and the sky cleared by that time. The boys were sitting up, waiting, none of them thinking of seeking his bed.
"Hello, Frank, my lad! I'm mighty glad to find you here, safe and sound. I saw your pony at the stable, and that you had bound up his leg, showing a sprain. But I was afraid that something more serious had been the matter. You don't know how relieved I was to see your horse; and Reddy, too. The poor fellow has been in a sweat with fear ever since the stampede broke out," was the hearty way the rancher greeted Frank as he came bustling in.
"
Oh, I was right in the line of the rush, but by clever work on the part of my pony managed to reach the trees before they caught me. But what's the report about the cattle, sir?" asked Frank eagerly.
"The boys have halted them about ten miles from here. Thanks to the storm stopping, and the animals getting leg weary, we managed to head them off. Little damage done, except to our feelings. These things happen once in a while, and are really unavoidable. Steers in a panic are crazy; but then I suppose the same would apply to human beings, if all accounts are true that I read about theater fires and such things."
He asked many questions concerning Frank's adventure.
"You just happened to choose the wrong side, lad. Had you headed the other way you would have had little trouble. The storm came from that quarter, and a cowboy must have known that cattle always run away from the lightning and rain. But fortunately you made the timber, and; as the subject is unpleasant, we'll drop it for the present. Now get off to bed, the lot of you. In the morning, if you want, I'll take you down with me, and show you how we drive a big herd."
"
I've got my last roll of films in the camera, and that would make a mighty fine set of pictures to finish up with; but, oh! what wouldn't I give if I could have caught Frank, here, riding for life on that crippled pony, and the stampede sweeping down on him!" said Will enthusiastically.
"Talk to me about your cold-blooded savages! Does anything equal a crank with a camera, bent on snapping off everything that happens?" muttered Jerry, shaking his head in real or assumed disgust.
"That is the fate of every genius, to be misunderstood and misrepresented when ready to sacrifice comfort and everything to his art. But I am not the only one who is a crank. I have known fellows so proud of their lungs, that night after night they insisted on filling the air mattresses of the party just to prove which could blow the harder; while the other two members of the party sat by and laughed."
Frank chuckled at hearing this, and both Bluff and Jerry looked daggers, for the shot hit home with them.
In the morning the boys did accompany the rancher down the valley. Frank showed them his course on the previous night, and they fol
lowed his line of travel until the trees were reached. Trail there was none, for hundreds of cloven hoofs had pounded the soil about that spot, showing how narrow had been his escape.
The cowboys were found to have the big herd well in hand. It was even then on the way back to its former feeding ground. Some of the steers showed the effects of the mad rush, in various cuts from the horns of their fellows; and several had tripped and gone down to death in the panic, the herd trampling them into an unrecognizable mass.
Of course, Will satisfied his longing, and secured what pictures he wanted.
"I'm happy in having carried out my plans. Won't the home folks stare when they see the panorama of views I've gathered!" he said jubilantly.
"I should think they would," remarked Jerry, shrugging his shoulders, "for you certainly have a collection of freak pictures, some of which would take the prize."
"But all of this lot are genuine. Nobody had to prance around a tree with a dead yellow dog on his feet, pretending to chase after him," asserted Will.
"Whose doing was that, eh? Tell me that!
Didn't you just plead with me to make a fool of myself, and to save you pain I consented. I suppose I'll never hear the end of that fool joke," growled Jerry.
"Oh, yes, you will. It's all in the family. Others don't know the dog was dead when he had his picture taken. They all say he looks as though about to snap a piece out of your leg. Now, I think we've just had a glorious time of it up here, with nothing to mar our pleasure," remarked Frank, the peacemaker.
"Except that miserable job of mine in leaving my knife home," sighed Bluff.
"Talk to me about that, will you! He hasn't forgotten it yet!" exclaimed Jerry.
"I never can. Hello! Here comes Reddy with a bag of mail, the last we'll get, I suppose, before we go home. A letter for me? Now just keep your eyes to yourselves, fellows. I admit it's from Nellie, but no doubt the dear girl is anxious about her brother Frank, and wants information from a thoroughly reliable quarter."
Bluff sought out a lonesome corner of the big piazza in front of the ranch house, and presently all hands were absorbed in their letters. Suddenly the others heard Bluff utter an exclamation, and looked up just in time to see him sprint into the building.
"
What d'ye suppose ails the fellow?" asked Will.
"Give it up. He seemed to have a broad grin on his face, as though Nellie must have written something especially sweet. But here he comes out again, dancing like a wild Indian. What's he waving above his head, fellows?" said Frank.
"It's his lost hunting-knife, as sure as you live!" echoed Will.
"Just to think of it, boys! The beauty was in my clothes bag all the time, and I didn't know it! Nellie did it. She mentions the fact in this letter, and says she was so afraid I'd hurt myself with that knife, by accident, that she rolled it up in this new flannel shirt, which I've never thought to put on as yet, and thrust it down at the bottom of my clothes bag. I never thought to pull it out; and now that the big-game hunt is over I get my trusty blade."
"Tell me about that, will you! And you thought I was to blame," remarked Jerry.
"For which I beg your pardon. After all, perhaps no harm was done, and since Nellie only did it from the best of motives, why, I would be foolish to be angry."
"Sensible for once," observed Frank, winking at the others.
"
And so we will leave the ranch without the slightest cloud on the horizon. Fellows, all I can say is we're a lucky lot of boys," observed Will positively.