"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness decisively.
"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank Price.
"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother Charley reminded him.
"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient."
And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish line rank. Each puncher had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope.
Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror.
The boys' faces paled as they watched.
"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!"
The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the stampede.
Bang! Bang! Bang!