Each one drew his revolver, even Professor Snodgrass taking an extra one Nestor had. The cattle were now about eight hundred feet away.
“Fire!” cried Nestor.
The five revolvers spurted slivers of flame, smoke and bullets. In rapid succession every chamber was emptied, but the rush of the steers was not checked. In fact, none of the cattle seemed to have been killed, or, if any were, they fell down and were trampled under the hoofs of the others.
“I guess we’re done for!” groaned Nestor. “Crouch down on the bottom of the car!”
The galloping animals were almost at the auto. Suddenly there sounded a fusillade of shots, mingled with wild yells. Jerry peered up over the edge of his seat. He saw a man on a horse, riding straight across in front of the line of cattle. In one hand the stranger held a big revolver, which he fired right into the faces of the steers. In the other he held his coat, which he was waving like a flag.
At the same time he was yelling like a man gone mad. The reins of his horse lay loose on the animal’s neck, but the beast knew what was expected of him.
It seemed that the stranger would be knocked down and trampled under thousands of sharp hoofs. But he did not seem afraid, riding closer and closer to the line of steers. He emptied one revolver and drew another, never ceasing to yell or wave his coat.
Suddenly, with wild bellows, the leaders of the cattle turned. They were frightened at the strange figure before them. For a few seconds there was great confusion amid the mass of steers. Those behind the line of leaders tried to go straight ahead, but the latter, once having made up their minds that they would turn to the left did so.
Then, like sheep following the bell-wether of the flock, the beasts took after their leaders. [They rushed to one side, thundering past] within twenty feet of [the auto], while the stranger, pulling up his horse, still continued to wave his coat and shout.