Read The Boy Aviators in Record Flight; Or, The Rival Aeroplane Page 20


  CHAPTER XX.

  CAUGHT IN A STAMPEDE.

  That night, as may be imagined, the adventurers spent in hearty sleep.Although they had no means of knowing how far behind they were in therace, at the same time they were too exhausted by the exciting eventsthrough which they had passed to consider anything except refreshingtheir wornout frames. But boy nature is a wonderful thing, and both Mr.Joyce and Bart Witherbee were hard as nails, so when the entire partyawoke the next day--well over the border line into Arizona--they were asrefreshed as if they had rested a week.

  Breakfast was over, the auto packed and everything ready for a startwhen suddenly in the distance a low growling was heard, something likethe voice of an approaching thunderstorm.

  "Thunder!" exclaimed Billy; "if that isn't tough luck."

  "Thunder!" echoed Bart incredulously; "not much. Why, the sky's as clearas a mirror."

  "Well, it's queer, certainly," agreed the others, looking about, but asthey saw no cause for the queer noise the auto party got aboard andFrank and Harry mounted in the aeroplane.

  The desert in this part of Arizona is full of little dips and rises, andfrom the dip on a river bank where grew a sparse collection of trees, bywhich the boys had camped, they had not been able to see far across theplain. As soon as Frank and Harry rose in the air, however, theyperceived at once what had been the cause of the rumbling sound they hadheard.

  Not more than a mile away, and coming toward them like the wind, was oneof the deadliest perils of the plains.

  They shouted warnings to the boys in the auto below.

  "What's the matter?" yelled back Lathrop, who was at the wheel.

  "Matter?" shouted back Frank. "There's a herd of stampeded cattle comingstraight for you."

  The effect of these words on Bart Witherbee was electrical.

  "Great guns, boys!" he exclaimed; "that's the worst news we could have.If we can't escape them we are as good as dead. Put on all the speed youcan."

  Only half realizing the terrible nature of the peril so rapidlyapproaching, Lathrop put on all the speed the auto possessed, and themachine seemed to fairly leap forward. Bart Witherbee stood up in thetonneau the better to see what was approaching behind them. Even heblanched under his tanned, weather-beaten skin as he saw that thecattle, an immense herd, were advancing in a crescent-shaped formationthat seemed to make escape impossible.

  Billy Barnes, who stood at his elbow, also sighted the maddened steersat the same moment as they rushed over a rise not more than half a mileaway now.

  "Whatever started them?" he gasped.

  "Who can tell, lad, a coyote jumping up suddenly, the hoot of a groundowl, anything will start cattle stampeding when they are in the mood forit."

  The herd came swooping on, but so far the auto, which seemed to befairly flying over the ground, maintained its lead. The steers werebellowing and throwing their heads high in the air as they advanced, andthe noise of their hoofs seemed a perfect Niagara of sound.

  "Get your gun out and load. We may have to use 'em before long,"exclaimed Bart Witherbee. "Sometimes the noise of shooting will turn alot of stampeders."

  "Do you think it will stop them?" asked Billy.

  "I dunno," was the grim reply. "Maybe yes, maybe no. We've got to try tosave our lives as best we can."

  On and on went the chase, the auto fleeing like a scared live thingbefore the pursuing peril. Bart Witherbee's face grew grim.

  "Won't they get tired soon?" asked Billy, who couldn't see how thesteers could keep up the terrible pace much longer.

  "Tired," echoed the plainsman, "not much, lad. It'll take a whole lot totire them. Why, I've seen 'em go clear over a cliff. They're like madthings when once they're stampeded."

  Suddenly the auto came to a stop.

  Suddenly the auto came to a stop.]

  "What's the matter?" shouted Witherbee, in a sharp tone that showed hisanxiety.

  For reply Lathrop pointed ahead.

  Right in front of them was a deep arroyo or water course with steepbanks fully thirty feet in height, effectually blocking progress. Theboys were trapped.

  "What shall we do?" cried Lathrop with a white face.

  "Not much of anything as I can see," replied Bart with a shrug. "Lookslike this is our finish."

  On swept the steers. The boys could now see the angry little red eyes ofthe leaders gleaming savagely. Their horns were as long and sharppointed as spears.

  "Everybody get out your guns and fire, it may scare 'em," commandedWitherbee.

  Quickly the four revolvers of the party were emptied in the face of theadvancing onrush, but not a steer wavered.

  "It's all over," groaned Witherbee.

  But suddenly a dark shadow swept down from the skies so close to theboys in the auto that they could almost feel the rush of wind as thegreat body swept by.

  It was the _Golden Eagle_.

  Frank, who, with Harry, had watched in terrible apprehension the advanceof the steers, had suddenly recollected what the cowboys had said aboutaeroplanes scaring them. Instantly he had set his descending levers andswept in a long, low circle full in the faces of the amazed bovines.

  With bellows of terror they turned, wavered and a minute later were infull retreat. They thundered past the auto in a long line, their warmbreath almost fanning the occupants' faces, but none of them came anycloser. Wild terror of the mysterious thing of the sky had seized them,and they were off in the opposite direction as swiftly as they hadthundered in pursuit of the auto.

  "Phew! that was as narrow an escape as ever I want to have," exclaimedBilly, his face still white as the last of the herd scampered by.

  "Same here," echoed Lathrop.

  As for Mr. Joyce and Bart Witherbee they did not say much, perhapsbecause they realized even more than the boys the terrible death fromwhich Frank's bold swoop had saved them.

  Looking up to where the _Golden Eagle_ was soaring far above them theparty in the auto set up a cheer to which Frank answered with a wave ofthe hand. The next instant he pointed to the westward, and--skirting thebanks of the steep arroyo till they found a place where a ford had beenmade--the boys in the auto followed them.

  Late that afternoon the character of the country over which they hadbeen traveling began to change. The road grew rugged and in places greattrees grew right up to the edge of the track and overshadowed it. Theaeroplane soared far above the treetops, however, and the boys had nodifficulty in keeping track of it. Suddenly, however, as they drovealong the rough track, Billy, who was driving, stopped the car with ajerk.

  "We can't get any further," he remarked.

  "Why not?" demanded Bart Witherbee.

  "Look there."

  The boy pointed ahead a few feet up the road.

  A huge tree lay across it, effectually blocking all progress.