"You can't do it that way! They'll run you down, or if they don't the knives will cut you! Jump to one side—I'll try and catch them!"
Ruth had the good sense to obey. She did not really mean to make a grab for the horses, but to stand in their path as long as she could, hoping to make them slacken speed. But she had forgotten about the projecting knives, which, even in their sheath of steel, might seriously injure her.
Alice, white-faced, but still keeping her wits about her, tried to follow the shouted directions, and pull on the reins. But either the horses had the bits in their teeth, or her strength was not enough to bring them to a stop. On they raced, and, as the meadow was a large one, they had plenty of room. Alice might be able to guide them until they tired themselves out, but there was danger that they would turn into a fence, or that the machine would overturn and crush her under it.
She had half a notion to leap from the iron seat, and trust to falling on the soft earth. But she feared she might become entangled in the reins, or that she would slip, and fall under the flying feet of the horses, or even on the clattering set of knives. And of these last she well knew the danger, for Sandy had warned her of them. So she decided she would keep her seat as long as she could.
Sandy was racing up behind her. Above the thud of the horses' hoofs, and the shrill sound of the clicking knives, Alice could hear him coming on, trying to save her. And how she prayed that he would be in time.
The mowing machine was opposite Ruth now, who had stepped back out of the way of harm. And as Alice passed her sister in the machine the latter cried:
"Oh, Alice! If you should be hurt!" There was the sound of tears in her voice.
Alice did not answer. She had all she could do to look after the plunging horses.
Sandy was not at such a disadvantage in his race as at first it would seem. He was light on his feet, and a good runner, though much tramping over plowed fields and rough hills had given him a rather clumsy gait in walking.
But the horses were not built for racing, either, and they were dragging a heavy machine on soft ground. The iron wheels of the reaper were made with projections, to enable them to bite deeper into the earth, and thus turn the gears that operated the knives. And these iron wheels were a heavy drag.