"They'll have 'em stampeding yet," Dan said at last growing uneasy, as
more and more cattle escaped, and the mob shifted ground with a rumbling
rattle of hoofs every few minutes. Finally, as the rumbling rattle
threatened to become permanent, a long drawn-out cry of "Ring--ing" from
Big Jack sent Dan and the Quiet Stockman to their saddles. In ten
minutes the hubbub had ceased, Dan's master-hand having soothed the
irritated beasts; then having opened them out he returned to the camp
fire alone. Jack had gone on duty before his time and sent the "little
Chinese darlings" to bed.
Naturally Dan's cattle-tussle reminded him of other tussles with ringing
cattle; then the cattle-camp suggesting other cattle-camp yarns, he
settled down to reminiscences until he had us all cold thrills and
skin-creeps, although we were gathered around a blazing fire.
Tale after tale he told of stampedes and of weaners piling up against
fences. Then followed a tale or two of cattle Iying quiet as mice one
minute, and up on their feet crashing over camps the next, then tales of
men being "treed" or "skied," and tales of scrub-bulls, maddened
cow-mothers, and "pokers.
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