“Ye-es, certainly; only—what shall we do, Jelly?”
“Drive him away!”
“How?”
“Make a noise; scare him; do something; I can’t hold on here any longer, I tell you! I’m slipping now!”
“Let’s all yell together,” suggested Evan. “Come on!”
“Wait!” cried Malcolm. “Let’s run toward him and yell like thunder. That ought to scare him.”
They viewed each other doubtfully.
“Aren’t you ever going to do anything?” wailed Jelly.
“Come on!” said Rob desperately.
They charged three abreast, yelling like Comanche Indians, charged blindly, heroically. For one instant the result trembled in the balance. Then the bull gave a short, terrorized bellow and vanished into the mist. And at the same moment there was a thud and a crash and Jelly descended into a litter of tin plates and cups.