The long soothing cry echoed from guard to guard. It was the call of the cowman, in an effort to calm the frightened animals. Here and there a gun would flash as the guards shot in front of the stampeding herd, hoping thereby to turn the rush and set the animals going about more in a circle in order to keep them together until they could finally be quieted. It was all a mad chaos of noise and excitement to the lad who sat in his saddle hesitatingly, not knowing exactly what was expected of him under the circumstances. Off toward the camp a succession of flashes like fireflies told the cowpunchers on guard that their companions were racing to their assistance as fast as horseflesh could carry them. The storm had disturbed the herd from the instant of the first flash of lightning, and, as other flashes followed, the excitement of the animals increased until, at last, throwing off all restraint, they dashed blindly for the open prairie. Desperately as the guards struggled to turn the herd, their efforts had no more effect than if they had been seeking to beat back the waves of the sea. Tad was recalled to a realization of his position when, in a dazzling flash of lightning, he caught a momentary glimpse of Big-foot Sanders bearing down on him at a tremendous speed. Tad saw something else, too--a surging mass of panic-stricken cattle, heads hanging low, horns glistening and eyes protruding, sweeping toward him. "Ride! Ride!" shouted Big-foot. "Wh--where?" asked Tad in as strong a voice as he could command. "Keep out of their way. Work up to the point as soon as you can and try to point in the leaders. We've got to keep the herd from scattering. I'll stay in the center and lead them till the others get here. Bob will send along some of the fellows to help you as soon as possible." While delivering his orders Big-foot had turned his pony, and, with Tad, was riding swiftly in advance of the cattle, in the same direction that they were traveling. To have paused where they were would have meant being crushed and trampled beneath the hoofs of the now maddened animals. "Now, git!" Tad pulled his pony slightly to the right. "Use your gun!" shouted Big-foot. "Burn plenty of powder in front of their noses if they press you too closely!" He had forgotten that the lad did not carry a gun, nor did he realize that he was sending the boy into a situation of the direst peril. Tad, by this time, had a pretty fair idea of the danger of the task that had been assigned to him. But he was not the boy to flinch in an emergency. Pressing the rowels of his spurs against the flanks of the reaching pony and urging the little animal on with his voice, Tad swept obliquely along in front of the herd.