When the cattle broke, the drover dashed out on their side of the mob and waved a warning to them. His mouth framed words, and though his voice was drowned in the tremendous hullabulloo, the boys knew he was shouting: "Back! Back! Back for your lives!"
So they raced for the tank and crouched behind it as the storm of cattle went sweeping past.
The riderless horse galloped up to the troughs and stooped its head to drink. The bridle-rein trailed on the ground. Sax looked around the tank and saw it very near his hand. He gave a quick glance at the saddle and saw that all the gear was right, and then quietly stretched out his arm and caught the rein. He gripped it firmly but did not pull. The noise of stampeding cattle was so great that the horse did not notice the movement near him till the boy slowly rose from the ground.
Then the horse lifted its head and gave a snort of alarm. But in a moment Sax had jerked the reins over its head, and in another moment was on its back. Before he was well seated, the frightened animal reared, squealing and pawing the air with its fore hoofs. But Sax was lean and very supple. He clung on, drove his feet home in the stirrups, and when the horse came down and started to buck and twist and arch and side-spring, he had a seat from which it would have taken a very good animal to shake him. It was all over in less than a minute, and then the horse saw its companions flying over the plains in a cloud of dust, gave a whinny, and started after them at top speed.
Vaughan was left with feelings which were almost equally divided between pride in his friend's achievement and envy that the adventure had not fallen to his lot.
Sax caught up with the drover and rode neck and neck with him on the wing of the cattle for some time before the man turned his head. When he did so, he was very surprised.
"Hallo, young 'un!" he shouted, almost breathless at the rate they were going. "Can you ride?"
"No," bawled Sax exultantly; "but I'm learning."
"Well, don't try and learn too much first go," came back the warning. "There's ticklish work ahead. You watch me." And they settled down again to give all their attention to the work in hand.
About five miles west of the town is a narrow but close belt of timber, mostly gnarled mulga and gidgee, with here and there a sprawling stunted creek gum. The cattle were making for this shelter. But already the tremendous pace was beginning to tell. The bellowing had ceased and the mob was stringing out, the stragglers no longer being able to gallop, but lumbering along at a clumsy trot.