But none of the lads ran away.
Gazing between the trees they soon made out a stirring sight.
On came the stampede, cattle packed so tightly that any animal falling could only be trampled to death by those behind.
"My, but that's a grand sight!" cried Tom Reade.
Not one of the six boys but longed to take to his heels.

To them it seemed absolutely impossible for the cattle to turn aside as they must dash on through the blazing grass, such was the pressure from behind.

Yet not one of Dick & Co.

turned to run.
Suddenly three of the bulls went down to their knees, snorting and bellowing furiously.

Half a dozen cows held back from the flames, only to be trampled and killed.
Somehow, the powerful bulls staggered to their feet, then broke to one side.
A dozen more cows plunged on into the blazing grass, then sank, overcome by the heat.
It seemed like a miracle as, following the bulls, the herd split, some going east, others west, and carrying the swerving cattle after them in two frantic streams.
In some way that the boys could not understand, the pressure of cattle from the rear accommodated itself to the movement of the forepart of the herd.