a sturdy endeavor to turn them. But he could not. He ran, nipped a
sheep, and then jumped back to save himself from being cut to pieces by
the blundering feet. Young Pete saw that he could not reach the pass
ahead of them. Out of breath and half-sobbing as he realized the
futility of his effort, he suddenly recalled an incident like this when
Montoya, failing to head the band in a similar situation, had coolly
shot the leader and had broken the stampede.

Pete immediately sat down, and rested the barrel of his six-shooter on
his knee. He centered on the pass. A few seconds--and a big ram,
several feet ahead of the others, dashed into the notch. Pete grasped
his gun with both hands and fired. The ram reared and dropped just
within the rocky gateway. Pete saw another sheep jump over the ram and
disappear. Pete centered on the notch again and as the gray mass
bunched and crowded together to get through, he fired. Another sheep
toppled and fell. Still the sheep rushed on, crowding against the
rocks and trampling each other in a frantic endeavor to get through.
Occasionally one of the leaders leaped over the two dead sheep and
disappeared down the trail. But the first force of their stampede was
checked. Dropping his gun, Pete jumped up and footed it for the notch,
waving his hat as he ran. Bleating and bawling, the band turned slowly
and swung parallel to the canon-rim. The dogs, realizing that they
could now turn the sheep back, joined forces, and running a ticklish
race along the very edge of the canon, headed the band toward the safe
ground to the west. Pete, as he said later, "cussed 'em a plenty."
When he took up his station between the band and the canon, wondering
what Montoya would say when he returned.

When the old Mexican, hazing the burros across the mesa, saw Pete wave
his hat, he knew that something unusual had happened. Montoya shrugged
his shoulders as Pete told of the stampede.

"So it is with the sheep," said Montoya casually. "These we will take
away, for the sheep will smell the blood and not go down the trail."
And he pointed to the ram and the ewe that Pete had shot. "I will go
to the camp and unpack. You have killed two good sheep, but you have
saved many."

Pete said nothing about the battle of the ants. He knew that he had
been remiss, but he thought that in eventually turning the sheep he had
made up for it.

And because Pete was energetic, self-reliant, and steady, cap