Ted looked at the steer in question, which was moving slowly forward.
"See, there's another," cried Stella. "Why, I can see a dozen of them
all limping in the same manner."
"That's strange," said Ted. "I wouldn't think anything of it if only one
steer had gone lame, but I can't understand a dozen."
They rode slowly toward the lame steers.
"Great guns," exclaimed Ted, bending low in his saddle to examine the
steers closely.
"What is it?" asked Stella excitedly.
"This is terrible," said Ted. "If this keeps up we might as well shoot
all the cattle and let them lie out here on the prairie the prey to the
wolves. We will never get them back to Moon Valley."
Stella looked at him with an expression of consternation on her face.
"These cows and steers have been hamstrung," said Ted, with a tone of
suppressed rage in his voice. "Any man who would do a trick like that
ought to be shot down in his tracks like a mad dog."
"Hamstrung! I don't understand."
"Some inhuman brute has ridden up behind these crippled animals, and
with a sharp knife has cut the tendons or leaders behind the hoofs, or,
rather, in the ankles, laming them and preventing them from being able
to follow a drive. Where would we be in the spring if any large portion
of our beasts were so maimed?"
"What a brutal thing to do!" exclaimed Stella, in indignation.
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