l following at full speed
a blue mound that struggled doggedly on towards the timber. The grey
horse drew up to his quarry, the man leant forward, there was a sudden
spurt of white smoke, and the animal fell as if struck by lightning.
It was very pretty to watch, and looked as simple as shelling peas. The
shooter rode over to Hugh, and congratulated him on his first kill.

"I got all that mob that came our way," he said, "seven of 'em. Yours
makes eight. There's Ben after some still, and there's Tommy Prince back
at the bamboos firing at something. Firing this way, too, damn him! Look
at Ben!"

Far away on the plain, like puppets in the distance, went the swiftly
gliding figures of man and horse. In front of them dimly-seen objects
tore through the grass; every now and again out went an arm, there was
a spurt of smoke, and another buffalo fell. The blacks and the Chinaman
were away behind, gathered in a cluster, skinning the first beast
killed, while the pack-horses cropped the grass and bit at the flies.
Considine was nowhere to be seen.

"Let's go back and see what Tommy is up to," said the shooter. "He's a
hard case, is Tommy. If there's any trouble about he'll get into it,
or get somebody else into it. He'll wing one of us in a minute, the way
he's blazing. What's he firing at?"

Suddenly the festive Tommy was seen to dash hurriedly out of the patch
of bamboo, with the old original buffalo cow so close to his horse's
tail that, if the horse stumbled, the cow had him at her mercy.

"She'll have 'im!" yelled the shooter. "Good cow! Can't she steam? Come
on, and let's see the fun!"

For a while it looked any odds on the cow; then she slackened pace,
wheeled round, and bolted back to the bamboos. They found Tommy very
excited. He had used about eighteen cartridges, and had nothing to show
for it.

"That's the most underhand cow ever I seen!" said Tommy. "She runs into
them there bamboos and pretends she's going to run right clean through
to Queensland, and when I go in after her, she wheels round and hunts
me for my life. Near had me twice, she did. Every time I fire the old
carbine, it jams, and I have to get the rod to it. Gimme your rifle,
Walter, and I'll go in and finish her."

"She must have a lead mine in her already," said the shooter. "Mind she
don't ketch you, Tommy."

Tommy went in, but couldn't find a sign of the cow. While they were
talking she had slipped along the belt of bamboos, and was then,