nly valorous but fat. He pulled up
short. Betty propped without a second's hesitation, and swung round.

To Cecil it seemed that the world had dropped from under him--and then
risen to meet him. The brown mare turned, in the bush idiom, "on a
sixpence," but Cecil did not turn. He went on. The onlookers had a
vision of the mare chopping round, as duty bade her, to head off the
bullock, while at right-angles a graceful form in correct English
garments hurtled through the air in an elegant curve. When he came
down, which seemed to be not for some time, it was into a shady clump
of wild raspberries--and only those who know the Victorian wild
raspberry know how clinging and intrusive are its hooked thorns. Two
legs kicked wildly. There was no sound.

When the rescuing party extricated Cecil from his involuntary botanical
researches he was a sorry sight. His clothes were torn in many places,
and his face and hands badly scratched, while the red stains of the
raspberries had turned his light tweeds into something resembling an
impressionist sketch. It was perhaps excusable that he had altogether
lost his temper. He burst out in angry abuse of the mare, the bullock,
the raspberry clump, and the expedition in general--anger which the
scarcely concealed grins of the stockmen only served to intensify.
Norah, who had choked with laughter at first, but had become
sympathetic as soon as she saw the boy's face, extracted numerous
thorns from his person and clothing, and murmured words of regret,
which fell on unheeding ears. Finally his uncle lost patience.

"That'll do Cecil," he said. "Everyone comes to grief occasionally--take
your gruel like a man. Come on, Norah. Murty's waiting." Saying which,
he put Norah up, and they rode off, while Billy held the brown mare's
rein for Cecil, who mounted sulkily. Something in his uncle's face
forbade his replying. But in his heart came the beginning of a grudge
against the Bush, Billabong in general, and Norah in particular. Later
on, he promised himself, there might come a chance to work it off.

For the present, however, there was nothing to be done but nurse his
scratches and his grievance; so he sat sulkily on Betty, and took no
further active part in the morning's work, the consciousness of acting
like a spoilt child not tending to improve his temper. Nobody took any
notice of him. One by one the bullocks were cut out, until between
twenty and thirty were ready, and then the main mob w