Losing their footing they came tumbling to the foot of the bluff, knocking a number of the other cattle back into the water. There was much bellowing and floundering about, but the relentless forcing from the other side swept the unfortunate ones to the crest of the tide and up the steep bank. Now that the loose dirt had slipped down the footing grew more secure, and the animals soon fell into trails of their own making, up which they crept three and four abreast. Once on the other side they started to graze as contentedly as if they had not just passed through a most trying experience. Two of the cowmen who had forded the stream further down, now appeared opposite the main fording place, to take charge of the cattle. "Get across, boys," shouted the foreman. With an answering shout Tad and Ned slid their ponies down the sharp bluff, plunging into the water and heading straight across. "Slip out of your saddles and hang on!" called the foreman. Without an instant's hesitation the two boys slid into the water with a splash, but keeping tight hold on the pommels of their saddles. "Let go the reins," directed Stallings. "The ponies know where to go." Now the lads were being drawn rapidly through the water, and almost before they knew it their feet rested on the bottom of the shallow stream a short distance from the opposite bank. "Hooray!" shouted Tad, waving his water-soaked sombrero. "Come in. The water's great!" "Come on, Chunky," called Ned. "I'll wait and go over in the wagon," decided Chunky. "You'll do nothing of the sort," snapped the foreman. "You will swim, if you get over at all." Professor Zepplin, not to be outdone by his young charges, bravely rode his animal into the stream. The boys set up a shout of glee when he, too, finally dropped into the river with a great splash. Instead, however, of allowing the pony to tow him, the Professor propelled himself along with long powerful strokes of his left hand, while with the right he clung to the saddle pommel. "Three cheers for Professor Zepplin!" cried Tad as the German, dripping but smiling, emerged from the water and scrambled up the bank, leaving his pony to follow along after him. The cheers were given with a will. Stacy Brown, however, was still on the other side with the straggling cattle which were coming along in small bunches. "Young man, if you expect to get in for supper, you'd better be fording the stream," suggested Big-foot Sanders. The mention of supper was all that Stacy needed to start him. "Gid-ap!" The pony slid down the bank on its haunches, Stacy leaning far back in the saddle that he might not pitch over the animal's head. "Chunky would make a good side hill rider, wouldn't he?" jeered Ned. "Depends upon whether he were going up or down," decided Tad. "Look out! There he goes!" exclaimed Walter. The boy's mount had mired one foot in a quicksand pocket and had gone down on its knees. But Chunky kept right on going.