“Me no ’fraid; me rope him if he fight.”
And to show his contempt for the huge brute, he drove his mustang straight for him as he was grazing on the further side of the group. The steer raised his head, with the grass hanging from his jaws, and looked quietly at the approaching Indian. He seemed to be in doubt as to his purpose, until Shackaye, when almost upon him, swung his arm above his head and uttered a tantalizing shout, as if he wished to enrage the beast.
If such was his purpose he succeeded, for with a muttered bellow, the steer dropped his head and charged fiercely at the pony, which, to save himself, was obliged to wheel with such suddenness that the young Comanche, 251 despite his superb horsemanship, was thrown violently to the ground directly in front of the animal.
Occasionally a cowboy is caught in the perilous situation of the young Comanche. His horse may stumble, his lasso (always called a “rope” except in California) become entangled, or he may be thrown to the ground in the path of the charging steer or bull, which is sure to be upon him before he can regain his feet and steed.
In such emergencies there is but the single thing to do: that is, to shoot the animal, and to hesitate to do so means certain death to the endangered cattleman.
Two causes prevented Shackaye from appealing to this last and only recourse. His fall was so violent that he was slightly dazed, though he did not lose sight of his peril, but he made the mistake of attempting to climb to his feet and darting aside, when the time at command was insufficient to take him beyond reach of the savage steer.
His rifle remained in place on the front of his saddle, so that it was beyond his reach, 252 while, as I have stated elsewhere, he carried no pistol. He was, therefore, without firearms.
Captain Shirril was fully two hundred yards away, but he saw the imminence of the danger, and, bringing his gun to a level, fired at the steer, calling at the same moment to his nephew to shoot it. The captain’s bullet struck the beast, but without producing any effect, unless to add to his rage.
It took Avon but a second or two to raise his Winchester to his shoulder and aim at the animal, which was near at hand.
“If I was sure that was you last night,” he thought, “I would let the steer do his duty, but maybe you are innocent, so here goes!”