looking, and his horns were sharp enough to inflict serious damage.

"Back up, Sam!" screamed Tom.

Poor Sam could not back very well, and now his horse was thoroughly
unmanageable. Closer came the steer, until his wicked looking horns
were but a foot away.

At that critical moment a shot rang out, so close at hand that it
made all of the boys jump. Realizing the dire peril, Dick had drawn
the pistol he carried and fired at the steer. His aim was fair, and
the beast was struck in the ribs.

"Good for you, Dick!" burst out poor Sam. "Give him another," he
added, as he tried to quiet his horse and keep the steed from pitching
him to the ground.

Dick was quite willing to take another shot, but to get into range
was not so easy. Songbird's horse was between himself and the steer,
and the latter was plunging around in a manner that was dangerous
for the entire party.

But at last the eldest Rover saw his opportunity, and once more the
pistol rang out on the summer air. The shot took the steer in the
left ear and he gave a loud snort of pain and staggered as if about
to fall.

"He is about done for!" cried Tom. "I am glad of it."

The steer continued to plunge around for fully two minutes and all
took good care to keep out of his reach. Then he took a final plunge
and fell over on his side, breathing heavily and rolling his eyes
the while.

"I reckon I had better give him a final shot," was Dick's comment,
and, dismounting, he came forward and fired directly into the beast's
eye. It was a finishing move, and, with a convulsive shudder, the
steer lay still, and the unexpected encounter came to an end.

"Well, I am glad that is over," said Sam as he wiped the cold
perspiration from his forehead. "I thought he was going to horn me,
sure!"

"He would have done so, had it not been for Dick," returned Tom.

"I know it. Dick, I shan't forget this."

"What's to be done about the steer?" asked Songbird. "It seems a pity
to leave him here."

"Vot is der madder mit cutting him ub for meats?" put in Hans. "Ve
can haf some nice steak ven ve go into camp next dime, hey?"

"That's a scheme," said Fred.

At that moment, Wags, who had kept in the background so long as the
steer was raging around, set up a sharp barking.

"What's wrong now?" asked Tom, turning to the dog.

"Somebody may be coming," suggested Dick.

"I'll show you fellers wot's wrong!" cried a rough voice, and through
the brushwood close by there cr