The afternoon was half-way through, and most of the smaller calves were branded. So far no ropes had been used, for the boys were so skilful that they were able to throw an ordinary calf with one hand and hold it on the ground in such a way that it could not move while the brand was being applied. The blacks love these hand- to-hand tussles, and everybody in the yards was in high good humour; but, as the youngest calves were all done and the yearlings also, it became a test of real strength and skill to tackle some of the older stock. There were one or two failures which raised shouts of laughter at the expense of the unfortunate black, who had either missed his hold or been rolled in the sand; but nothing serious happened, for Dick and Jim were on the watch and always came to the rescue at the critical time.
At last the numbers were reduced to three, two steers nearly full grown and a young bull that had somehow escaped the musterers for three or four years. He was a powerful animal with heavy shoulders, a broad, curl- decked forehead, and thick, short horns-a very nasty animal to tackle. In spite of his formidable appearance. several of the boys tried tothrow him, dashing to the rails and climbing them when there was danger, like Spanish bull-fighters. But time was passing, and the three unbranded cattle were getting more and more excited, so Dick O"Keefe sent one of the boys to the shed for a special lasso which was kept there.
He and Jim were sitting smoking on the rails, and the boy was half-way back to the yards with the rope, when an unexpected thing happened. By some mistake the three clean-skins were in the branding-yard together. They rushed round and round, snorting and pawing the sand into the air, and, in order to get them back through the gate, one of the boys flicked them with his whip when the manager was not looking, for Dick 0"Keefe never allowed the use of a whip in the yards. This irritated the cattle to such an extent that they missed the gate-opening again and again and became quite mad. standing with heads down and tails up for a moment or two: then they charged the fence just below where Dick O"Keefe and Jim McCulloch were sitting. The two men toppled off-on the other side, fortunately-and one of the rails cracked. The oldest bull stood back and charged again, this time breaking through. With a wild bellow of rage and triumph, it stood free, shaking its head and snorting defiance at all the world. Everybody climbed into safety except the manager, who quickly jammed the broken rail across the opening the bull had made, to prevent the others from following their companion.
The bull saw the boy walking across the sand, and the sight must have reminded it of its tormentors, for it rushed straight at him. Larry, for that was the boy"s name, had not seen the smash, and his first hint of danger was a shout of warning from the yards. Petrified with fear, he stood stock- still, and this hesitation probably saved him from the first mad onslaught, for the animal stopped too, uncertain what to do with an enemy that did not run away. Then Larry turned, and the bull"s doubts were at once dispelled, for it lowered its head and charged with no uncertainty as to what it meant to do. The native stepped aside as he had been accustomed to doDrawn by Allan T. Bernaldo"O"Keefe unwound the lasso round his head."
in the yards, and the huge beast lumbered past, but, recovering at once, turned and charged back. There was only one end to such a deadly game. Sooner or later the boy would slip or become exhausted, and then the cruel forehead would catch him and toss him high in the air, either breaking his back at once, or maiming him so that he would be an easy prey when he fell to the ground again.
But the old cattle-man O"Keefe was watching, and, while the others were stunned with astonishment at the sudden turn of events, he grasped the situation and saw the only possible way to save the boy.
Running swiftly across the sand, he came level with the terrified native as he dodged another onslaught, but only just dodged it this time, for one polished horn tore his shirt. O"Keefe grabbed the lasso from the boy"s arm and stepped back. Seeing two antagonists, the bull paused, but the black was still its quarry, and it prepared to charge again, the last time probably, for the boy was too dazed to look after himself. O"Keefe unwound the lasso round his head and looked as if he were running away, but in reality he was getting more room for his throw.
Down came the bull. The boy stood limp and silly, directly in its pathway. The old stockman threw. With grace and unerring aim, the pliant rope shot out, the loop opened as it went, and fell over the shoulders of the helpless black boy, just as the bull was on him. With a jerk he was pulled back into safety.
Dick O"Keefe lost no time. Dexterously he freed the rope, and once more coiled it round his head, waiting to see what the thwarted bull would do. He did not have to wait long, for the animal came straight towards them. Dick jumped aside, pushing the boy out of harm"s way, and, as the beast thundered past, he dropped the loop over its head and entangled the off-side front leg. Down it crashed in a smother of sand, and, before it could get over its astonishment, the rope was trussing it in several other places and it was helpless.
Conrad Sayce, in The Golden Valley.
Author.-Conrad Harvey Sayce, a Melbourne architect, born in England, has written several books dealing with Central Australia- Golden Buckles, In the Musgrove Ranges, The Golden Valley, The Valley of a Thousand Deaths, and The Splendid Savage. All but the first are adventure books for boys.
General Notes.-Why are cattle branded? Should branding be prohibited (a) because it is cruel, (b) because it spoils a valuable part of the hide? In what parts of Australia are there wide cattle stations? Write the bull"s side of the story.
