It was evident that something must be done. It called for another division of the defending force, now somewhat reduced in numbers because of injuries. But the crossing of the sheep had to be stopped, as well as the passage of the armed men.
And, after a hard struggle, this was accomplished. The sheep were the easier driven back, for the animals were soon frightened and thrown into confusion. But the Mexicans themselves were desperate, and some of them even succeeded in reaching the opposite shore, setting their horses on Mr. Merkel's land.
However, there was a fierce rally against them on the part of the cowboys and they were driven back.
This was not without desperate work, however, and several on each side suffered minor injuries. The trouble was that the cowboys held their enemies too lightly. It was easy, and perhaps natural, for them to despise the sheep herders.
But, after all, these were men, and rough and ready men at that. They had something to fight for—their lives and their charges, and to lose one was to endanger the other. So, for a time it looked, as Bud said afterward, "like touch and go," so near was the tide of battle to turning against the cowboys.
Both sides were now pretty well exhausted, but the disadvantage of having to cross the stream still hampered the Greasers. They must have felt this, for after another consultation among themselves something new and unexpected happened.
A lone rider was seen to separate himself from the hated band on the Mexican side of the creek, and he slowly approached the ford.
"Watch him!" cried Billee, who had picked up his hat with a hole in the brim.
"He's up to some trick!" declared Bud.
"Shouldn't wonder, son," agreed Billee.