"Ride! Ride!" shouted Big-foot.
"Wh—where?" asked Tad in as strong a voice as he could command.
"Keep out of their way. Work up to the point as soon as you can and try to point in the leaders. We've got to keep the herd from scattering. I'll stay in the center and lead them till the others get here. Bob will send along some of the fellows to help you as soon as possible."
While delivering his orders Big-foot had turned his pony, and, with Tad, was riding swiftly in advance of the cattle, in the same direction that they were traveling. To have paused where they were would have meant being crushed and trampled beneath the hoofs of the now maddened animals.
"Now, git!"
Tad pulled his pony slightly to the right.
"Use your gun!" shouted Big-foot. "Burn plenty of powder in front of their noses if they press you too closely!"
He had forgotten that the lad did not carry a gun, nor did he realize that he was sending the boy into a situation of the direst peril.
Tad, by this time, had a pretty fair idea of the danger of the task that had been assigned to him. But he was not the boy to flinch in an emergency.
Pressing the rowels of his spurs against the flanks of the reaching pony and urging the little animal on with his voice, Tad swept obliquely along in front of the herd.