horse among the rocks
above, and a shout that sounded like the voice of an angel. Then came
the barking of a dog, and the loud reports of a stockwhip, but the bull,
with his devilish eyes fixed on me, never moved.
Up came a horseman at full speed; crack fell the lash on the black
bull's hide; out spirted the blood in a long streak. The bull turned
savagely--charged the horseman. The horse wheeled round just enough to
baffle him--no more--again the lash descended, cutting like a long,
flexible razor, but the mad bull was not to be beaten off by a whip: he
charged again and again; but he had met his match; right and left, as
needed, the horse turned, sometimes pivoting on his hind, sometime on
his fore-legs.
The stockman shouted something, leapt from his horse, and strode forward
to meet the bull with an open knife between his teeth. As the beast
lowered his head to charge, he seemed to catch him by the horns. There
was a struggle, a cloud of dust, a stamping like two strong men
wrestling--I could not see clearly; but the next moment the bull was on
his back, the blood welling from his throat, his limbs quivering in
death.
The stranger, covered with mud and dust, came to me, saying as
unconcernedly as if he had been killing a calf in a slaughter-house,
"He's dead enough, young man; he won't trouble any body any more."
I walked two or three paces toward the dead beast; my senses left me--I
fainted.
When I came to myself, my horse was saddled, bridled, and tied up to a
bush. My stranger friend was busy flaying the bull.
"I would like to have a pair of boots out of the old devil," he
observed, in answer to my inquiring look, "before the dingoes and the
eagle hawks dig into his carcase."
We rode out of the flats up a gentle ascent, as night was closing in. I
was not in talking humor; but I said, "You have saved my life."
"Well, I rather think I have," but this was muttered in an under tone;
"it's not the first I have saved, or taken either, for that matter."
I was too much worn out for thanking much, but I pulled out a silver
hunting-watch and put it into his hand. He pushed it back, almost
roughly, saying, "No, sir, not now; I shalln't take money or money's
worth for that, though I may ask something some time. It's nothing,
after all. I owed the old black devil a grudge for spoiling a blood
filly of mine; besides, though I didn't know it when I rode up first,
and went at the beast to take the devil out of
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