The blood, which he tried vainly to stanch with his free hand, oozed from the gun-shot wound, and formed a red puddle about his head. He felt himself growing dizzy and nauseated.
It was now about an hour past midnight, and the vast moonlighted prairie was hushed and still. Suddenly a curious sound troubled the silence—a trampling, tearing noise, accompanied by a hoarse confused roar. Jack lifted his head a little and looked.
His heart stood still.
A small herd of cattle roving about the prairie, moved by the curiosity inherent in animals, had drawn near, and excited by the smell of blood, were pawing the earth, bellowing with rage, and circling ever closer and closer about the helpless lad. He could see their wide horns glistening in the moonlight. "Mother! Father!" he breathed; and dropping his head back upon the cold turf, he closed his eyes in instant expectation of death.
But he opened them again. For the Outlaw had whirled abruptly from her post beside him, and charged, with a snort, first into one section and then into another of the infuriated circle. Surprised and daunted, the cattle retreated a short distance, stopped, and stood still, uncertain and dumb.
Hardly, however, had the boy drawn a breath of thankfulness and relief, when there was another mad rush upon him; and again the gallant little mustang, plunging and snorting, held his assailants at bay.
Over and over this assault and repulse were repeated. The half-unconscious lad turned his terrified eyes from side to side, groaning with pain, and lifting his voice brokenly in encouragement of his protector.
But she too was beginning to be spent and exhausted. He stroked her trembling foreleg with his hand as she hovered over him in a moment of respite. "Poor Lady!" he whispered, faintly: "it's mighty nigh over with both of us, I think. You'd better save yourself now, Lady. You can't do anything more for me. Don't cry, Lady. Why, Lady, your eyes are just like mother's!"
And with a sob he lapsed into utter oblivion.