Peter adjusted the saddle as best he could to the bull’s great girth while Judith rubbed the brute’s forehead, talking to him softly. Sioux stood with head lowered, his red nostrils dilating and contracting rapidly. But he did not move. When Peter nodded, Judith jerked the blindfold free and leaped into the saddle. Sioux brought his mighty fore legs together and leaped into the air. Peter hesitated a fraction of a minute before putting his foot into Buster’s stirrup, and the bull’s leap brought him against the flank of the uneasy horse. Buster reared and Peter fell, his left foot in the stirrup. The horse started at a gallop, dragging Peter toward the east gate.
Sioux, glimpsing from his wild, bloodshot eyes the prostrated figure of a man, gave a great bellow and charged. Judith brought her quirt down on the bull’s flanks, at the same time whistling shrilly. But Sioux was now out on his own. He overtook Buster half-way down the corral and thrust a wicked horn at the wildly kicking Peter. Judith leaped from the saddle and, running before Sioux, seized his horns and threw herself across his face. The bull paused.
At this moment came the full blast of Sister’s hunting cry from the west gate. She crossed the corral like a hunted coyote and buried her fangs in Sioux’s shoulder just as Douglas on the Moose caught Buster’s bridle. Sioux cast Judith off as if she were a rag and gave his full attention to Sister. Judith picked herself up, rushed to the still plunging Buster and jerked Peter’s foot from the stirrup. She ran to the blindfold lying in the sand a short distance away, then whistling shrilly above Sioux’s bellowing and Sister’s yelping, she again caught one of the bull’s horns in her slender brown hand. Sioux had rubbed Sister free against the fence and was now charging the dog as she snarled just under his dewlap.
Again and yet again he flung Judith against his shoulders, but she did not fall nor lose her grip. Suddenly, so quickly that the grandstand could not follow the motion, she had wrapped the blindfold over the burning eyes. As the bull stopped confused and trembling she hobbled his fore-legs to his head with the bridle-chain. Then she seized Sister’s collar and stood panting, her hair tumbled about her neck. The grandstand shouted its delight.
Peter had risen and was wiping the sand from his face.
“Call Sister, Peter!” cried Judith. “She’ll bite me in a minute.”
Peter mounted Yankee, whistled to Sister, and with a rueful grin and shake of his head for the audience, he trotted from the corral. Judith loosened the bridle-chain and jumped once more into Sioux’s saddle.
“Pull off his blindfold, Doug!” she cried.
“Nothing doing,” returned Douglas succinctly. “You get off that bull, Jude, before I take you off.”
“I’m going to ride him up to the grandstand,” said Judith between set teeth.
She whistled to Sioux and he lunged forward. Doug twisted his lariat. It coiled round one of the bull’s hind legs. Doug brought his horse to its haunches.