“Do you think we’ll be all right here?” panted Fred, when he could catch his breath sufficiently to speak.
“We shall be unless some of those steers take it into their heads to climb the rocks the same way we did,” answered Andy. He was suffering from a slight bruise on his left leg where he had brushed some of the roughest of the rocks.
The horses were still alarmed, and continued to snort and stamp their feet, and the two lads for a few seconds had their hands full quieting the animals. They looked below them and saw the cattle coming on in a great mass. Some had already passed, but others were huddled close to the rocks as if on the point of making an ascent.
“I really think they’ll try to come up,” said Fred.
“Come ahead! We’ll see if we can’t get a little higher up,” answered Andy. “I don’t think the steers will follow us very far, even if they do come. We can shoot at them if we have to,” he added, for each of them carried a pistol.
Beyond the ledge were more rough rocks, and here the two lads had to proceed with caution for fear one of their horses might slip and perhaps break a leg. As they advanced they looked back and saw that the cowboys were coming closer and were beginning to drive a part of the cattle to the rear.
“Oh, if only they can drive them back!” sighed Fred. “Just look at ’em, Andy! There must be a hundred of the steers directly below us! And see how angry that big black fellow looks! He acts just as if he’d like to come up here and gore us!”
“Listen!” ejaculated Andy, pulling back on the rein. “What’s that funny noise?”
Both listened, and, mingled with the murmurs of the cattle at the foot of the rocks, came to their ears a peculiar whine or growl that was entirely new to the lads.
“It’s a wild animal of some kind!” cried Fred, as the growl was repeated.