The boys looked to where he pointed. There, in a sort of depression, near a little hollow, on the edge of what is called a prairie dog village, they saw an ugly wiggling mass, which, as their eyes became more used to the colorings, was seen to be a number of the deadly rattlesnakes.
Several were coiled to strike, and had, in accordance with their habit, sounded their rattles. This had aroused the whole den, many snakes appearing from under ground, or crawling from beneath stones.
“Come on! They’ll chase us!” cried Bob.
“Nonsense,” replied the professor. “Rattlesnakes never attack man unless they are first disturbed. It wouldn’t be advisable to go too close, but, as long as we don’t molest them, we have nothing to fear from the snakes. I’d like to get a few specimens if I had the proper appliances for extracting their fangs. But I never saw so many in one place, before. It is quite interesting to watch—”
The professor broke off suddenly, for the thunderous noise of the approaching steers was now louder.
“They’re coming right at us!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Yes, and they’ve stampeded!” cried Ned. “We’re in for it now!”
The situation of the boys and the professor was extremely perilous. They were right in the path of the now frightened steers. The circle had been broken, by many animals, which had been approaching from the rear of the travelers, joining the beasts on either side, so that now a compact, dark mass of cattle, nearly a quarter of a mile wide, was surging ahead with great speed.
“Run!” called Ned. “There’s an opening at our backs now!”
“You couldn’t go a hundred feet before they’d overtake you!” shouted Jerry. “Let’s see if we can’t frighten ’em. Take off your hats, jump up and down, and yell like mad. If we can force ’em to separate and go on either side of us, we’ll be all right!”