"Something wrong with that brute," said Ted to himself. "Either it has got into a nest of rattlesnakes and has been bitten and is charging them, or it is locoed. We'll soon see."
He kept on fearlessly toward the steer, which continued its strange conduct.
When he was still several feet away the steer noticed him for the first time, apparently. It lowered its head and looked at him in a dazed sort of way.
This steer was known as Blue Eyes, on account of the curious bluish patch of hair that grew around one of its eyes. It had always been known as a particularly intelligent and tractable beast.
But now it was a very demon, with gleaming, blood-shot eyes and pawing hoofs, uttering deep, guttural bellows, and throwing the sand up over its back to the accompaniment of its thrashing tail.
"You look pretty dangerous, old fellow," muttered Ted, stopping his pony and gazing at it from a safe distance.
"No signs of rattlesnakes around here, or I'd smell them," soliloquized Ted. "Wonder what's the matter with you."
For answer, the steer gave an extra flip to its tail, and, without further warning, charged upon Ted with head down and wicked horns gleaming like bayonets. Ted's horse gave a snort of fear, and trembled in every muscle.
Ted at once realized his danger, and wheeled his horse like a bullfighter as Blue Eyes dashed past him, its horn scraping his leg.
"It's fight or run," thought Ted, "with a poor chance to get away from the brute. When they're in that condition they can run like an automobile."