"Tangle him up in the bushes—if I can," was the answer, and Dave turned in the direction of the brushwood lining the watercourse.
At this point there were a good many sharp rocks and twisted roots of bushes and trees, and it was not long before the loose stump caught on them.
"Come on, we'll fasten him good and hard!" cried Phil, dashing up behind the bull, and as quickly as it could be done he and the others piled some loose rocks against the tree stump, so that it would be next to impossible for the bull to work it free.
"Now you can let him go, Dave," said Ben, who had stood guard with his pole. "We've got him as fast as he ever was." And then Dave let loose from the ring, much to the animal's relief, for he chanced to have a tender nose, and the twisting of the ring hurt him a good deal.
"Are you sure he won't get away and come for us?" questioned Laura, as all drew to a safe distance.
"He won't get away very soon," answered Ben. "But we ought to notify his owner of what we have done."
"Whose bull is it?" asked one of the girls.
"I give up—I never saw him before."
"I think the bull belongs to the Hook Stock Farm," said Dave, mentioning a farm located about a mile away. "I don't know of anybody else around here who would own a bull. When we go home we can stop at the farm and tell them of what has happened."
Leaving the animal quietly grazing among the bushes, the boys and girls walked over to the automobiles, to learn if any damage had been done. In his movements the bull had scratched some paint from the wheels and the mudguards, but that was all, for which they were thankful.