"Fellows," Dick broke in, "it's a rumbling, yet it doesn't sound just like thunder, either. It sounds more like-----" "Cavalry on a gallop," suggested Greg. "Just what it does sound a lot like," Prescott nodded. Then he dropped to the ground, holding one ear close to the earth. "And, whatever the rumble may be," Prescott went on, "it travels along the ground. Just get your ears down, fellows." "It's something big, and it's moving this way," cried Dave. "It can't be cavalry," Tom argued. "There are no manoeuvres on; there is no state camp ever held in this part of the state, either. What do you-----" But Dick Prescott was up on his feet by this time. Furthermore, he was running. He stopped at the base of the trunk of the first tall tree. Up he went with much of the speed of a squirrel. Higher and higher he made his way among the branches. "Say, be careful there, Dick!" called Tom Reade, warningly. "If you get a tumble-----" "I'm not a booby, I hope," Dick called down, as he went to still loftier heights. He was now among the slender uppermost branches, where a boy would need to be a fine climber in order to make such swift progress. Even Dick Prescott might readily enough snap a branch now, and come tumbling to earth. "Stop!" warned Tom. "If you don't you'll butt your head into a cloud, the first thing you know." "Can you see anything?" called Danny Grin. "I see quite a cloud of dust to the northward." "How far off?" asked Dave. "About a mile, I should say, and it's headed this way, coming closer every minute." "What's behind the cloud? Can you make out?" Greg bawled up. "I'm trying to see," Dick replied. "There, I got a glimpse then. It's some kind of animals, heading for this camp at a gallop." "It can't be cavalry," shouted Reade. "You don't see any men, do you?" "No," Prescott called down, shielding his eyes with one hand. "Say, fellows!" "Have you guessed what it is?" demanded Harry Hazelton. "I know what it is---now!" Dick answered. Then he began to descend the tree with great speed. "Careful, there!" shouted Tom Reade. "That isn't a low baluster you're sliding down." "Keep quiet, until I reach the ground," gasped Dick. As he came nearer those below saw that he looked truly startled. Then Dick reached the low branches, and began to look for a chance to jump. "We've got to get out of here, fellows!" he called. "You know the trick that cattle---owners have in this part of the county of turning their cattle out to graze in one bunch. That bunch is headed this way---hundreds strong, and it's going to rush through this camp, trampling everything in the way!" CHAPTER VII FIGHTING THE MAD STAMPEDE "Nothing doing, and don't get excited," replied Tom Reade, shaking his head. "There will be a lot doing in three or four minutes," Prescott retorted excitedly. "The cattle are stampeded, and they'll sweep through here like a cyclone." "The trees will break up the stampede," Tom insisted coolly.