Flash And I
Scuttled To Shelter, And Dan, Bending The Cow Back To The Mob, Shouted As
He Passed By, At Full Gallop:
"Here you are, missus; thought you might
like a drop of milk."
For another five minutes the mob was "held" to steady them a bit before
starting, and then, just as all seemed in order, one of the prostrate
bulls staggered to its feet - anything but dead; and as a yell went up
"Look out, boss! look out!" Roper sprang forward in obedience to the
spurs, just too late to miss a sudden, mad lunge from the wounded outlaw,
and the next moment the bull was down with a few more shots in him, and
Roper was receiving a tribute that only he could command.
With that surging mob of cattle beside them, the Maluka and Dan had
dismounted, and were trying to staunch the flow of blood, while black
boys gathered round, and Jack and the Dandy, satisfied that the injuries
were not "too serious," were leaning over from their saddles
congratulating the old horse on having "got off so easy." The wound
fortunately, was in the thigh, and just a clean deep punch for, as by a
miracle, the bull's horn had missed all tendons and as the old campaigner
was led away for treatmen he disdained even to limp, and was well within
a fortnight.
"Passing the time of day with Jack," Dan called the scrimmage; as we left
the field of battle and looking back we found that already the Bromli
kites were closing in and sinking and settling earthwards towards the
crows who were impatiently waiting our departure - waiting to convert the
erst raging scrub bulls into white, bleaching bones.
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