The race was checked, but not yet effectually, though the Skipper had now more time to pick off the leaders as they scrambled over their brethren—only to fall victims to the sharp-shooter and help to build up a barrier to impede the others.
It was now a terrible sight of animals in desperation.
There were a hundred mountain sheep at least, and they were scrambling in a dense mass, trying vainly to advance—fighting, struggling, tumbling down the slope in mad confusion. Now and then one would have a momentary success and almost cross the barrier; then the deadly rifle would again send its message—and the barrier would be raised by one victim more.
Meantime, faithful to their charge, the boys kept their attention to the rear of the herd, but the dust was so dense that they could barely discern the hindmost animals.
Then Bob suddenly exclaimed—
"Look out!"
But Alf had been equally ready. A rifle and a gun darted up to each boy's shoulder at the same instant; a simultaneous explosion came like one from both weapons. Then followed a roar like a miniature thunder-peal, and a brown grizzly was seen to shoot down the declivity in pursuit of the poor sheep that he had driven to destruction in such numbers.
"Bravo!" shouted Mackintosh, letting go his feelings in a wild whoop of exultation. "A grand shot, lads!"
"I guess his day's work is done," returned Alf quietly, though he was none the less delighted with his own and his chum's success.
Finding that the fierce pursuit had ceased, the few remaining sheep turned on the retreat, since they found it impossible to advance farther. Then the adventurers proceeded on their way, though they, in their turn, found it impossible to pass the barrier, and some time had to be expended in carefully tumbling the carcases down the slope. But soon the work was successfully accomplished, and the path once more clear to permit the three comrades to pursue their urgent course.