"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!" The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd split up. "Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!" The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and he turned his pony sharply. "Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!" "They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his hold of the reins, fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But the second's delay had been fatal. Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to their instinct, to reunite. "I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought. He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island. Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind. CHAPTER VIII. HEMMED IN BY THE HERD. There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not have been devised by the utmost ingenuity. Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no means out of danger. With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres. Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his example. An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about in that part of the country. Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only path. Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be taken. A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized what the boy meant to do. Leap the gulch on his pony! A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling flanks. Crack! The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave a squeal of rage and bounded forward. "Yip-yip!" yelled Rob.