ange sense of fear.
There was something portentous in the way a big red and white bull in the
foreground was staring at him. Then he saw Donald on horseback off to the
right, and waved his hand. But Donald, spying the white trousers and the
red sweater in the same instant, did not stop to wave. Instead, he struck
MacDuff with his spur, skirted the cattle nearest him, and rode madly down
toward Carver and those ahead.

"He's crazy," he said to himself, "coming up here in that rig and afoot.
Old Rex will never stand it for a moment."

He was right. Old Rex had not the slightest inention of standing it. He
ate no more, but with lowered head gazed at this curiously clad intruder,
who was hesitating, not knowing whether to advance or to turn back. Old
Rex decided for him. He did the advancing. One shake of his heavy head,
crowned with long, sharp horns, one cloud of dust as he pawed the ground,
and one tremendous bellow warned Carver Standish III to do no tarrying in
that locality.

A shout from Donald following Old Rex's roar determined Carver's
direction. He fled toward MacDuff at a speed which would have won any
twenty-five yard cup in New England! Old Rex followed. The other cattle,
curiously enough and much to Donald's relief, let their champion fight it
out alone.

Donald, every moment drawing nearer, freed his left foot from the stirrup.
Carver must somehow be made to jump behind the saddle, and jump quick!
There was not an instant to lose. Old Rex was gaining, and Carver was
growing tired. It was too hot up there for a red sweater. With the bull a
scant thirty feet away Donald pulled in MacDuff, and yelled to Carver to
jump, which he did, aided by the stirrup, Donald's arm, and the last bit
of ancestral nerve he possessed. When Old Rex, baffled and defeated, saw
his foe being championed by one whom he full well knew, it took but a yell
from Donald and a mighty crack of his quirt to send him back among the
herd.

There seemed little enough to say as MacDuff bore his double load down
over the hills to the lower range, where white trousers and red sweaters
might be countenanced. But something had returned to Carver, something
which for two weeks had been on a vacation. As they neared the home
foot-hills, he slid from MacDuff.

"If you're not in a hurry, Don," he said, "let's rest here a minute.
MacDuff is tired, I know, and there are some things I want to get
straightened out before we go down home."