the horseman unwarily or
ignorantly approaches too near in his endeavour to dislodge them, they
will charge, and the death of the horse or rider may be the result.
Both, however, are generally too well aware of these little failings to
endeavour to prevail over a jaded or "baked" beast, and prefer to let
him rest.

Upon the cattle being yarded, the most exciting operation is the
capturing and securing of the young beasts requiring to be broken in to
the yoke. An experienced and expert stockman enters the enclosure
carrying in his hand a pine sapling, 12 or 15 feet in length, at the end
of which is a running noose of raw hide or strong hemp rope, attached to
a strong rope which is passed round a capstan outside the stockyard and
near to a corner post. With considerable dexterity, not infrequently
accompanied by personal danger, the man slips the noose over the horns
of the beast he wishes to secure, when he immediately jumps over the
rails, and with the assistance of the men outside, winds up the rope
till the struggling and infuriated animal is fast held in a corner of
the yard. Another noose is then slipped round the hind leg nearest the
rails and firmly fastened.

The yard being cleared, a steady old working bullock is now driven
alongside our young friend, and the two are yoked together neck and
neck, the trained bullock selected being always the more powerful of the
two. The ropes are then unfastened and the pair left free to keep
company for a month or so, by which time the old worker will have
trained his young charge sufficiently to permit of his being put into
the body of a team and submitted to the unmerciful charge of the bullock
puncher (driver). There is no escape for the novice then, yoked fast to
a powerful beast with others before and behind, and the cruel cutting
whip over him, in the hands of a man possessing but little sentiment: he
must obey, and after a time becomes as tractable as the rest. Indeed, it
is wonderful how intelligent and obedient these animals become under the
hands of an experienced driver. There is a code of bullock punching
language they soon get to understand; they answer readily to their
names, and are, if anything, more sensible, obedient, and manageable
than horses.

My ride with Hudson, which I referred to, was as hard a day's work as I
have experienced of the kind. We started from the Ashburton at daybreak,
and after a quiet canter of five miles, reached an open piece of ri