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.
"Not much they won't," Dick answered.

"The cattle are headed along a natural lane, where the trees are less thick than in other parts of the forest." "The trees will stop 'em before they get here," Reade insisted.
"The trees will do nothing of the sort," uttered Dick, glancing swiftly about him.

"The cattle are among the trees already.
Just hear that rumble.

And it's a lot closer now." "I reckon we'd better move, do it now, and do it fast," cried Hazelton, who knew that Dick's judgment was generally the best.
"And leave our camp to be trampled down and made a complete wreck by a lot of crazy cattle ?" gasped Greg Holmes.
"I'd rather have the camp trampled than my face," retorted Dalzell.
"I don't want to flee from here and leave the camp to be destroyed, and our summer's fun spoiled," protested Greg.