60 Australian Life 



notices a movement among them, as, startled by 

 something vague and unascertainable, a dozen of 

 the animals blunder to their feet. In a very few 

 moments, the terror has been communicated to 

 the whole mob, and, with a bellow of fright, the 

 ringleaders dash away. The men rush for their 

 horses, giving their sleeping mates warning of the 

 danger, and by the time the mob is on the move, 

 the cattlemen are spurring their horses after them. 

 A wild ride in the dark night begins, when man 

 and horse dash through the gaps in the mass of 

 terrified beasts and do their utmost to reach the 

 head of the flying mob. Should a horse happen 

 to stumble and fall, neither he nor his rider may 

 hope to rise again from under the hoofs of the 

 maddened beasts behind them. There is only one 

 hope of checking the stampede, and that is to 

 force through the press and face the leaders with 

 the stinging stock-whip. Already one or two of 

 the best-mounted and most experienced drovers 

 are in the front ranks, and the great whips are 

 lashing the faces of the foremost beasts, checking 

 them and throwing them back upon those behind 

 them. The speed of the mob is slackened, and 

 more drovers fight their way through to the front. 

 The bullocks are suddenly brought to a standstill, 

 and with lowered heads and heaving sides, they 

 circle round and round as though considering how 

 they may again break away. An unsuccessful 

 attempt or two in this direction complete their 

 subjugation, and the mob goes meekly back to its 



