The night was suddenly broken by a series of loud cowboy yells, such as always cause the herd to take notice and show immediate signs of being ready to stampede. Then came the pounding of horses’ hoofs on the prairie, and the two Broncho Rider Boys, crouching there, waited to get their first glimpse of the coming rustlers.
[CHAPTER XXX.—WHEN THE SHERIFF CAME—CONCLUSION.]
Quickly following these shouts the two boys could see moving figures, that presently developed into galloping horses. They seemed to be riderless until one looked more closely, when possibly a knee might be discovered above the saddle, or it might be an arm was disclosed.
Every fellow kept shouting at the top of his lungs, undoubtedly with a two-fold object in view; for by this means they hoped to not only excite the penned-up cattle, and work them into a fit condition for a stampede the moment an opening was provided, but at the same time such a racket was apt to alarm the defenders of the corrals, as well as bring their confederates into the game.
As they started to swing back and forth, now coming closer, and anon falling more to the rear, these wild riders started shooting their revolvers at a rapid rate. If there is one thing that a cow-puncher dearly loves above all others it is an opportunity to pull the trigger of his gun in quick succession, while he is shooting up some unlucky town where they sell strong drink.
And these rustlers were of that breed to a certainty, for they kept things going at a pretty lively gait.
“Let’s start in some ourselves!” cried Adrian in the ear of his chum; for they had simply crouched there, watching what was going on, as though it might be a free show organized for their especial benefit.
Donald was only waiting for this word. He dropped his head close to the butt of his rifle, and like a flash the report came. There was a horse on the ground immediately, with his rider taking a flight through the air so that he landed fully fifteen feet ahead.
“Watch and see if he gets up; if he does let him have it!” said Donald, already filled with the enthusiasm such a situation was apt to bring about.
The fellow could not have been badly hurt by his tumble, for he at once started to scramble to his feet, as though meaning to either make off, or else try and run for the shelter of the nearest corral, bent on doing certain work that had been assigned to him beforehand.