“That’s right,” agreed Bud Morgan, who believed he knew considerable about the habits of bulls in general, especially their “lifting” powers.
“And another thing,” continued Hugh, striking while the iron was hot, “it’s no disgrace for a scout to shin up a convenient tree if an angry bull charges at him. You want to remember that, all of you. ‘An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure,’ isn’t it, Bud?”
“Well,” replied the other, with a whimsical shrug, “you just watch my smoke if ever he really starts for me, that’s all.”
CHAPTER IV.
TURNING BACK THE CLOCK OF TIME.
“Here they are!” cried Arthur Cameron, triumphantly, because it pleased him to be the first one to discover the runaway herd.
“All there, Mr. Stebbins?” asked Hugh, as the little party stood and looked at the feeding cattle.
“Seven keows, and Nero—that’s the full caount, Mr. Hardy; and naow if so be yeou boys’d gimme a lift agettin’ the same back, I would like it fust rate.”
“That’s what we expect to do, sir,” Hugh assured him. “You’ll have to take the lead. They know you, and will be more apt to mind when they hear you shout at them. Besides, the bull isn’t so apt to charge when he knows his master is along.”
“Wall, I doan’t trust Nero too far, yeou understand,” the farmer shrewdly remarked. “Bulls is queer critters and mighty sly. But so long as the herd keeps alongside him I kinder guess as haow we won’t have much trouble.”
It turned out that way. They passed around so as to head the animals off, and then a gentle pressure was exerted to start them along the back trail. Doubtless the cows understood that they were expected to return to their corral, for they showed little inclination to balk or act contrary.