, who had been fuming ever since his defeat, caught sight of
the missing lead-bag. He picked it up without a word, and with a
fierce gleam in his eye, started over to the group of dancers, followed
hurriedly by Carew. Just as young Mick was repeating his challenge to
run, jump, dance, or fight anybody in the district, Gordon threw the
lead-bag, weighing about six pounds, full in Red Mick's face.

"There's your lead, you thief!" he said. "Dance on that!"

Red Mick staggered back a pace or two, picked up an empty bottle from
the ground, and made a dash at Gordon. The latter let out a vicious
drive with his left that caught Mick under the ear and sent him down
like a bullock. In a second the whole crowd surged together in one
confused melee, everybody hitting at everybody amid a Babel of shouts
and curses. The combat swayed out on to the race-course, where half a
dozen men fell over the ropes and pulled as many more down with them,
and those that were down fought on the ground, while the others walked
on them and fought over their heads. Carew, who was quite in his
element, hit every head he saw, and knocked his knuckles to pieces on
Black Andy Kelly's teeth. The fight he put up, and the terrific force of
his hitting, are traditions among the mountain men to this day. Charlie
Gordon was simply mad with the lust of fighting, and was locked in a
death-grip with Red Mick; they swayed and struggled on the ground, while
the crowd punched at them indiscriminately. In the middle of all this
business, the two ladies and Alick, the eldest of the children, had
started Gentle Annie for home, straight down the centre of the course.
The big mare, hearing the yelling, and recognising that she was once
more on a race-track, suddenly caught hold of the bit, and came sweeping
up the straight full-stretch, her great legs flying to and fro like
pistons. Alick, who was sitting bodkin between the ladies, simply
remarked, "Let her head go!" as she went thundering into the crowd,
hurling Doyles and Donohoes into the air, trampling Kellys under
foot--and so out the other side, and away at a 2.30 gait for at least
half a mile before the terrified girls could pull her up, and come back
to see what damage had been done.

That ended the fight. The course was covered with wounded and disabled
men. Some had been struck by the mare's hoofs; others had been run over
by the wheels; and a great demand for whisky set in, under cover of
which Gordon and Ca