They were now in the midst of the herds of cattle.
Willie Sloan firmly clutched the rail at his side. Many misgivings once more rose within him, as he studied their powerful bodies and tremendous horns. Occasionally a bellowing came over the air. Several times he saw great steers pawing the ground and eying the approaching vehicle with an air of defiance.
“Ginger! Wouldn’t it be awful if some o’ those ugly brutes should happen to bump into us,” he thought. “Humph! Cran and the others are getting away ahead.”
The sunlight was now enveloping the prairie in a golden glow, while the cattle sent long purplish shadows over the ground.
“Have they lost you, Jed?” spoke up Willie, suddenly.
Crack! The whip snapped and the buckboard increased its speed, until Willie fairly held his breath.
“Hold on, Warren—stop!” he commanded, fiercely.
A few minutes later the driver’s grinning face was turned toward him.
Willie doubled his little fist, and shook it within an inch of the cow-puncher’s nose.
“Don’t do that again,” he cried, furiously. “You wouldn’t know how to drive a cow to market.”