"The cattle are stampeded, and they'll sweep
through here like a cyclone."
"The trees will break up the stampede," Tom insisted coolly.
"Not much they won't," Dick answered. "The cattle are headed
along a natural lane, where the trees are less thick than in other
parts of the forest."
"The trees will stop 'em before they get here," Reade insisted.
"The trees will do nothing of the sort," uttered Dick, glancing
swiftly about him. "The cattle are among the trees already.
Just hear that rumble. And it's a lot closer now."
"I reckon we'd better move, do it now, and do it fast," cried
Hazelton, who knew that Dick's judgment was generally the best.
"And leave our camp to be trampled down and made a complete wreck
by a lot of crazy cattle?" gasped Greg Holmes.
"I'd rather have the camp trampled than my face," retorted Dalzell.
"I don't want to flee from here and leave the camp to be destroyed,
and our summer's fun spoiled," protested Greg. "We must stop
the cattle, or split their stampede."
"All right, Holmesy," agreed Tom ironically. "I appoint you to
do my full share in stopping a stampede of cattle." Reade's face
had suddenly grown very grave as he now realized that the trees
were not stopping the frenzied cattle.
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