Flame was now spurting up over more than an acre of the sun-baked strip of gra.s.s.

"Get a lot more of the gra.s.s going, fellows!" panted d.i.c.k, who was working like a beaver and dripping with perspiration. "It's our only hope. Hustle!"

With the flames arose a dense cloud of smoke. As the wind was from the southwest the smoke was in the faces of the onrushing cattle.

"There! We've done all we can!" bellowed d.i.c.k, running down the line formed by his chums. "Now, get back out of this roasting furnace."

Close to the edge of the burning strip of gra.s.s the six high school boys now stood side by side gazing at their work.

"We'd better scoot!" counseled Danny Grin.

"Where can we go?" d.i.c.k shouted, in order to make himself heard over the crackling flames and the greater noise of the pounding hoofs. "If we're not safe behind a curtain of flame, there is no other place near where we'd be safer."

Danny Grin turned to bolt, but Darry reached out, catching him by the collar and throwing him to the ground.

"Don't be a fool, Danny, and don't be panic stricken," Darrin advised. "We're safer here, at least, than we can be anywhere else within a quarter of a mile."

The bellow of a bull through the forest---a bellow taken up by other bulls---made all of the boys quake in their shoes. But none of the lads ran away.

Gazing between the trees they soon made out a stirring sight.

On came the stampede, cattle packed so tightly that any animal falling could only be trampled to death by those behind.

"My, but that's a grand sight!" cried Tom Reade.

Not one of the six boys but longed to take to his heels. To them it seemed absolutely impossible for the cattle to turn aside as they must dash on through the blazing gra.s.s, such was the pressure from behind. Yet not one of d.i.c.k & Co. turned to run.

Suddenly three of the bulls went down to their knees, snorting and bellowing furiously. Half a dozen cows held back from the flames, only to be trampled and killed.

Somehow, the powerful bulls staggered to their feet, then broke to one side.

A dozen more cows plunged on into the blazing gra.s.s, then sank, overcome by the heat.

It seemed like a miracle as, following the bulls, the herd split, some going east, others west, and carrying the swerving cattle after them in two frantic streams.

In some way that the boys could not understand, the pressure of cattle from the rear accommodated itself to the movement of the forepart of the herd. The herd divided now swept on rapidly, going nearly east and west in two sections.

Not until some six hundred crazy cattle had pa.s.sed out of view did the boys feel like speaking. Indeed, they felt weak from the realization of the peril they had so narrowly escaped.

"I think, fellows," proposed Dave Darrin huskily at last, "that we owe a whopping big vote of thanks to good old d.i.c.k Prescott!"

"After we pa.s.s that vote," proposed Hazelton, "we'd better make all haste to get out of these woods before the owner of this stretch of forest comes along to nab the fellows who set his timber afire."

"Do you see any trees ablaze?" d.i.c.k demanded.

Now, for the first time, two or three of the fellows began to realize the value of d.i.c.k's idea. The sun-burned gra.s.s, some three acres in extent, was a clearing devoid of trees. Here the July heat had baked the turf. On all sides, under the trees beyond, the gra.s.s was still green. Any boy who has ever been in the country knows that green gra.s.s won't burn. Hence the blaze was limited to a small area. A few trees whose trunks were near the edge of the clearing were smoking slightly, but no damage was done to the timber. There was really no work to be done in extinguishing this fire, which, furious while it lasted, was now dying out.

"Let's get back and see how our camp fared," proposed Hazelton.

"We don't have to," d.i.c.k replied. "We saw the directions taken by the cattle, and they didn't go anywhere near our camp. Let's wait, and, as soon as the ground is cool enough, let's get out to the injured cows, and see if we can help any of them."

Hardly had d.i.c.k spoken when one of the cows, right at the edge of the blackened clearing, rose clumsily, then moved slowly northward.

Presently another cow followed suit.

"We can get over the ground now," said d.i.c.k. "Let's go out and look at these animals."

They counted eight dead cows, their unwieldy carca.s.ses lying motionless on the burned gra.s.s.

"Probably killed by the hot air that they drew into their lungs,"

commented Tom Reade.

"We killed the poor beasts," said Danny Grin, with a catch in his breath.

"Perhaps we did," d.i.c.k admitted. "But we had to do something.

Anyhow, we broke the force of the stampede, and, if that hadn't been checked, a still greater number of cows would have been killed.

They would have fallen, exhausted, and then they would have been trampled on and killed by the plunging cattle behind them."

"That's true enough," nodded Tom. "Even if we did kill a few, I guess we're more ent.i.tled to praise than reproach."

Two more cows presently got up and limped away, but there were four others still alive, yet too badly hurt to attend to themselves.

Nor could the high school boys help, further than by carrying buckets of water to the suffering animals. d.i.c.k & Co. had no firearms along, and could not put the injured cows out of their misery.

"Now, let's get out of here," urged d.i.c.k at last. "We can't do any good here, and this is no pleasant sight to gaze upon."

"It seems too bad to leave all this prime roast beef on the ground, doesn't it?" hinted Tom. "And we fellows have such good appet.i.tes."

"The cattle are not ours," d.i.c.k rejoined. "We have no right to help ourselves to any cuts of meat from the dead animals."

So they returned to the camp, which they found, of course, quite undisturbed.

It so happened that the four members of the party who had proposed going to other scenes for the forenoon forgot their projects.

CHAPTER VIII

VISITORS FOR THE FEAST

Bang! bang! sounded in the direction of the burned-over clearing.

"Let's go over and see what that means," proposed Tom.

He jumped up, ready to sprint over to the clearing.

"If you want advice," d.i.c.k offered, "I'd say to wait until the shooting is over. You might stop a stray bullet not intended for us."