Then, too, the horses proved allies of our friends. For the light "peppering" the animals received from the slings made the animals nervous and disinclined to face the shower of stones.
Some few sheep were driven into the stream, and it was evident that, for the present at least, this was a good crossing—shallow enough and with no quicksands. But once the sheep began to hear and see the stones "zipping" in the water around them, some of the woollies feeling the pebbles—though only slightly—a new problem was presented to the Mexicans. Their sheep, like the horses, turned about and made for the southern shore.
So that, in less than five minutes after the attempt to make the crossing was started, it had failed, and the hostile forces withdrew.
"Guess we made it too hot for them," chuckled Bud.
"For a while, yes," agreed Nort. "But it isn't over yet."
"No," added his brother. "If they give up now I miss my guess. They'll try again."
And so the Greasers did.
Withdrawing to a safe distance from the slings—which could only just about carry across Spur Creek, a conference was held among the sheep herders. Then they came on again, trying in the same place.
But Bud and his friends were ready, with an unlimited supply of ammunition. Stones were plentiful along the creek, and each cowboy had his pockets full.
One advantage of the sling shots was that they could be "loaded and fired" much more rapidly than the guns—by which I mean the .45 revolvers. And of course on humanitarian grounds there was no comparison—no one was killed or even severely wounded by the stones. They were only painfully hurt.