226 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER 



over his beaten horse, " push on, Barnard ; now's 

 your time." So I left him. In five minutes I found 

 I could ride round the wild horse, so I pressed on 

 him constantly. At every wave of my whip he 

 doubled like a beaten hare, but showed his teeth 

 when I headed him, and glared with fiery eyes that 

 showed it would not be safe to come to close quar- 

 ters. Thus pressing and doubling we carried on for 

 some miles, until the stallion's pace became a trot, 

 and sometimes a walk, but still, whenever I n eared 

 him, he showed dangerous fight. While doubting 

 how to end the conflict, I saw something looming in 

 the distance that proved to be a lot of tame stock 

 horses driven by a boy towards a neighbouring 

 station. The boy a true cornstalk saw how the 

 game stood, pushed on to join me, and together, 

 one on each side, we dashed, shouting and lashing 

 at the stallion. His tail shivering, his sides heaving 

 he vainly tried to escape a fresh horse and rider ; 

 wherever he bounded we followed, and before he 

 knew where he was, had him entangled in the mob 

 of tame ones. This done, I shouted " Victory ! " 

 young Cornstalk something more homely and ener- 

 getic and then, flogging, hurrying, trampling in a 

 cloud of dust, we drove the lot pell-mell into a stock- 

 yard. The slip rails were closed in an instant, and 

 the black stallion, after one fierce, despairing leap at 

 the lofty paling, sank exhausted to the ground. 



