her ears and began to
dance a little in her steps. The steers, although their pace had not
changed, were snuffling in an uncertain fashion, and Wilbur vaguely
became conscious that fear was abroad. He quieted Kit, but could see
from every motion that she was catching the infection of the fear. He
tightened his hold on the lines, for he saw that if she tried to bolt
both of them would go over the edge. Wilbur looked down.

A hundred yards or so further on the road widened slightly, and Wilbur
wondered whether it would be possible for him to work his way to the
right of the steers and gallop full speed alongside the herd to get in
front of them; but even as he thought of the plan he realized that it
would scarcely be possible, and that unless he reached the front of the
herd before the road narrowed again he would be forced over the edge.
And, as he reached the wider place, he saw Grier and Rodgers standing.
They also had sensed the notion of fear and were waiting to see what
could be done in the main body of the herd. Merritt had worked his way
through the steers, and was riding in the lead. Wilbur wondered how he
had ever been able to force Baldy through. This put Wilbur behind a
bunch of about one hundred steers and in front of five or six hundred
more.

Below him, to the right, was a valley, the drop now being about one
hundred and fifty feet, and Wilbur could see at the edge of the creek,
pitched among some willows, a little tent, the white contrasting
strongly with the green of the willows. The road wound round high above
the valley in order to keep the grade. Twice Wilbur halted Kit to try to
stop the foremost of the herd behind him from pressing on too close, but
the third time Kit would not halt. She was stepping as though on
springs, with every muscle and sinew tense, and the distance between the
steers before and the steers behind was gradually lessening.

Wilbur realized that as long as the even, slow pace was kept he was in
no danger, but if once the steers began to run his peril would be
extreme. He could turn neither to the right nor to the left, the little
pony was nothing in weight compared to the steers, and even if she were,
he stood a chance of having his legs crushed. The only hope was to keep
the two herds apart. He wheeled Kit. But as the little mare turned and
faced the tossing heads and threatening horns, she knew, as did Wilbur
instantaneously, that with the force behind them, no single man co