Now, for the first time, two or three of the fellows began to realize the value of Dick's idea. The sun-burned grass, some three acres in extent, was a clearing devoid of trees. Here the July heat had baked the turf. On all sides, under the trees beyond, the grass was still green. Any boy who has ever been in the country knows that green grass won't burn. Hence the blaze was limited to a small area. A few trees whose trunks were near the edge of the clearing were smoking slightly, but no damage was done to the timber. There was really no work to be done in extinguishing this fire, which, furious while it lasted, was now dying out. "Let's get back and see how our camp fared," proposed Hazelton. "We don't have to," Dick replied. "We saw the directions taken by the cattle, and they didn't go anywhere near our camp. Let's wait, and, as soon as the ground is cool enough, let's get out to the injured cows, and see if we can help any of them." Hardly had Dick spoken when one of the cows, right at the edge of the blackened clearing, rose clumsily, then moved slowly northward. Presently another cow followed suit. "We can get over the ground now," said Dick. "Let's go out and look at these animals." They counted eight dead cows, their unwieldy carcasses lying motionless on the burned grass. "Probably killed by the hot air that they drew into their lungs," commented Tom Reade. "We killed the poor beasts," said Danny Grin, with a catch in his breath. "Perhaps we did," Dick admitted. "But we had to do something. Anyhow, we broke the force of the stampede, and, if that hadn't been checked, a still greater number of cows would have been killed. They would have fallen, exhausted, and then they would have been trampled on and killed by the plunging cattle behind them." "That's true enough," nodded Tom. "Even if we did kill a few, I guess we're more entitled to praise than reproach." Two more cows presently got up and limped away, but there were four others still alive, yet too badly hurt to attend to themselves. Nor could the high school boys help, further than by carrying buckets of water to the suffering animals. Dick & Co. had no firearms along, and could not put the injured cows out of their misery. "Now, let's get out of here," urged Dick at last. "We can't do any good here, and this is no pleasant sight to gaze upon." "It seems too bad to leave all this prime roast beef on the ground, doesn't it?" hinted Tom. "And we fellows have such good appetites." "The cattle are not ours," Dick rejoined. "We have no right to help ourselves to any cuts of meat from the dead animals." So they returned to the camp, which they found, of course, quite undisturbed. It so happened that the four members of the party who had proposed going to other scenes for the forenoon forgot their projects. CHAPTER VIII VISITORS FOR THE FEAST Bang! bang! sounded in the direction of the burned-over clearing.