d
straight at Considine. So sudden was the attack that the stock-horse had
barely time to spring aside; but, quick as it was, Considine's revolver
was quicker. The bull passed--bang! went the revolver, and bang! bang!
bang! again, as the horse raced alongside, Considine leaning over and
firing into the bull's ribs at very short range.

The other cattle, dazed by the firing, did not attempt to follow, and
at the fourth shot the bull wheeled to charge. He stood a moment in the
moonlight, bold and defiant, then staggered a little and looked round as
though to say, "What have you done to me?" Bang went the revolver again;
the animal lurched, plunged forward, sank on his knees, and fell over on
his side, dead.

"There, you swab," said the old man, "that'll larn you to break another
time." Then he took once more his place in the patrol round the mob.
They circled and eddied and pushed, always staring angrily at the
riders. Suddenly a big, red bullock gave a snort of defiance, and came
out straight towards Carew. He stopped once, shook his head ominously,
and came on again. One of the gins dashed up with the whip; but the
bullock had evidently decided to take all chances, and advanced on his
foes at a trot.

"Choot him, that feller!" screamed the gin to Carew. "You choot him! He
bin yan away! No more stop! Choot him!"

Carew lugged out his revolver, and tried to pull his horse to a
standstill, but the wary old veteran knew better than to be caught
standing by a charging bullock; just as Carew fired, he plunged forward,
with the result that the bullet went over the mob altogether, and very
nearly winged Charlie, who was riding on the far side. Then the bullock
charged in earnest; and Carew's horse, seeing that if he wished to save
human life he must take matters into his own hands, made a bolt for it.
Carew half-turned in the saddle, and fired twice, only making the black
boys on the far side cower down on their horses' necks. Then the horse
took complete charge, and made off for the scrub with the bullock after
him, and every animal in the mob after the bullock.

Nothing in the world could have stopped them. Considine and Charlie
raced in front, alongside Carew, cracking their whips and shouting; the
blacks flogged the coachers up with the wild cattle; but they held on
their way, plunged with a mighty crash into the thick timber, and were
lost. No horseman could ride a hundred yards in that timber at night.
Coachers and