t were out of the stirrups and well forward, so that, although he
had received three or four bruising encounters as the cattle lurched and
surged against him, he was unhurt. Several times Kit was hurled from her
stride, but she always picked up her feet neatly again. Wilbur could not
but admire the little mare, although he felt that there was no hope for
them.

Then suddenly, with an angry bellow, a big black steer which had been
pushing up on the inside turned his head and tried to gore the pony.
There was not room, however, but the action so angered Wilbur that,
pulling his six-shooter, he sent a bullet crashing to his brain. The
steer gave a wild lurch, but did not fall immediately, and in an instant
was forced to the edge and fell into the valley below. Instantly, Kit,
even before Wilbur could speak or lay hand on the rein, gave a sidewise
jump into the hole made by the place the black steer had occupied. In
one stride as much gain away from the dangerous edge had been made as
had been lost in the previous half mile.

More at his ease, but for the fearful speed and the danger that Kit
might lose her footing, Wilbur looked ahead, talking to the steers
around, endeavoring to quiet them, noting that the road was turning more
sharply in the valley, although the downward grade was steeper and it
was increasingly hard for the little pony to hold up. But as they turned
the curve, there, immediately before them, standing in the middle of the
road, with their fishing poles over their shoulders, were a man and a
boy, evidently entirely ignorant of the danger so rapidly approaching.
The bank above was too steep to climb, and the one below straight ninety
feet sheer to the creek. To Wilbur it looked like sure death, and a most
awful one at that, but he at least was utterly unable to do anything to
prevent it, and he shuddered to think that he himself might be trampling
with his pony's hoofs on what might be below.

But just as he had in that instant decided that there was no help for
it, he suddenly saw Merritt on old Baldy shoot forward like an arrow
from a bow stretched to the uttermost. The herd of steers was traveling
at a rapid clip, but under the startling influence of combined quirt
and spur, and with no room in which to display his bucking propensities,
Baldy just put himself to running, and only hit the high spots here and
there.

It seemed incredible to Wilbur that any horse could stop, especially on
a down grade,