awkward place for a yard, people used to say; scrubby and
stony all round, a blind sort of hole--you couldn't see till you were
right on the top of it. But there was a 'wing' ran out a good way
through the scrub--there's no better guide to a yard like that--and
there was a sort of track cattle followed easy enough once you were
round the hill. Anyhow, between father and the dog and the old mare he
always rode, very few beasts ever broke away.

These strange cattle had been driven a good way, I could see. The
cows and calves looked done up, and the steer's tongue was out--it was
hottish weather; the old dog had been 'heeling' him up too, for he was
bleeding up to the hocks, and the end of his tail was bitten off. He
was a savage old wretch was Crib. Like all dogs that never bark--and men
too--his bite was all the worse.

'Go and get the brands--confound you--don't stand there frightening the
cattle,' says father, as the tired cattle, after smelling and jostling a
bit, rushed into the yard. 'You, Jim, make a fire, and look sharp about
it. I want to brand old Polly's calf and another or two.' Father came
down to the hut while the brands were getting ready, and began to look
at the harness-cask, which stood in a little back skillion. It was
pretty empty; we had been living on eggs, bacon, and bread and butter
for a week.

'Oh, mother! there's such a pretty red calf in the yard,' I said, 'with
a star and a white spot on the flank; and there's a yellow steer fat
enough to kill!'

'What!' said mother, turning round and looking at father with her eyes
staring--a sort of dark blue they were--people used to say mine and
Jim's were the same colour--and her brown hair pushed back off her face,
as if she was looking at a ghost. 'Is it doing that again you are,
after all you promised me, and you so nearly caught--after the last one?
Didn't I go on my knees to ye to ask ye to drop it and lead a good
life, and didn't ye tell me ye'd never do the like again? And the poor
innocent children, too, I wonder ye've the heart to do it.'

It came into my head now to wonder why the sergeant and two policemen
had come down from Bargo, very early in the morning, about three months
ago, and asked father to show them the beef in his cask, and the hide
belonging to it. I wondered at the time the beast was killed why father
made the hide into a rope, and before he did that had cut out the brand
and dropped it into a hot fire. The police saw a hi