The herd divided now swept on rapidly, going nearly east and west in two sections.
Not until some six hundred crazy cattle had passed out of view did the boys feel like speaking.

Indeed, they felt weak from the realization of the peril they had so narrowly escaped.
"I think, fellows," proposed Dave Darrin huskily at last, "that we owe a whopping big vote of thanks to good old Dick Prescott!" "After we pass that vote," proposed Hazelton, "we'd better make all haste to get out of these woods before the owner of this stretch of forest comes along to nab the fellows who set his timber afire." "Do you see any trees ablaze ?" Dick demanded.
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.