"I guess they do it easier in story books then than on the plains. The best way to stop a stampede is not to let it start. Still, if there's enough boys on hand, I suppose it could be done. The only way, though, would be to ride down the leaders and turn them round.
"As I said, if there are enough boys on hand when the trouble breaks, they can get them to milling, which is going round and round in a circle until the cattle get tired out. But it takes a mighty lively bunch of cow-punchers to do it."
After riding for two hours they came in sight of the cattle, and the two brothers quickened their pace, eager to see them at close range.
"Steady now. Don't go riding at them like a pack of Indians or you will have all the stampede you want to see," exclaimed Ned. "My, but they surely are restless!"
This last remark was caused by some of the steers which raised their heads at the approach of the riders, then turned and dashed back to the body of the herd.
"Oh, dear! I'm afraid we've started them," said Horace.
"Pull in your horses!" commanded Ned. "The main bunch is all right. If we come up to them slow, there won't be any trouble."
Obeying instantly, the boys reined their horses to a walk and reached the pool without causing further alarm among the cattle.
"So this is where the ghosts live, is it?" asked Tom, gazing from a little knoll at a placid body of water about one hundred feet long by twice as many wide, surrounded by reeds.
"Maybe you won't laugh so much to-night," declared their friend and then, because he did not like to be joked about his belief that the place was haunted, he added: "Come on, let's see if we can find which direction father and the boys took."