The hoof-beats drew nearer and nearer, and presently seemed to be passing Jack, not very far off. He hurried toward the sound, calling out as he did so:
"Whoa, lad! Whoa, lad!"
"Hello, who's that?" came Donald's voice.
"Come over here, Donald," called Jack. "My horse fell with me and has gone off, and I'm waiting here for daylight to come to get back to camp. Where have you been?"
"Why," explained Donald, "I tried to follow those cattle, but they all ran away from me; and now I'm trying to get to camp, but my horse don't want to—he seems to want to follow the cattle."
"Well, I've had more excitement here in the last half-hour than any man is entitled to. When my horse fell I thought that whole bunch of cattle was going to run over me, and I've been jumping around here as hard as I could, trying to keep them off."
"I hope you didn't get hurt when your horse fell with you?"
"No," said Jack, "I must have hit a soft spot. I'm all right, but I'd like to get back to camp, so as to start out with the boys when it gets light, and try to find the cattle."
"I want to find camp, too," replied Donald; "but I don't know whether I can. My horse doesn't seem to want to go that way."