sucking of their lips, the gushing of water
through the valves, and the grumbling of the tired animals all blended
together, and seemed to be part of the dust which rose from the
trampling feet and settled on everything till men and stock were alike
brown.

Mick Darby was keeping the trough-valves at full pressure, and the
manager rode over to him. The white boys followed the mounted man with
their eyes. This was to be their boss; that is, if he would take them.
They were evidently the subject of conversation, for Mick pointed up at
the mill, and Dan Collins looked up also. They could not see his face,
and he made no sign, but went off again to keep the waiting cattle
rounded up.

It takes a long time to water a thousand head of cattle, and by the
time the Sidcotinga troughs were full, with no cattle drinking at them,
the sun had just set. Gradually the animals were worked away from the
water towards the wing of the yard. Probably both Sax and his friend
were hoping that there would be a break, for there is nothing more
exciting to watch--or to be in--than a cattle-rush; but these men were
on their own country, and at their own stock-yards. They eased the big
mob of animals slowly up to the yards, then sat back and let them have
a spell, just holding them within the compass of the wings. The
leading bullocks nosed the stock-yard rails, went up to the gates and
smelt the air, gave one or two inquiring bellows, and then walked
through. Finding space on the other side of the gates, they went right
into the yards. Others followed, till soon the whole mob was filing
through the gates. Then came the shouting of men, the racket of
stock-whips, the prancing of horses, and the protesting roar of cattle,
as they were jammed up tight. At last the gates were swung to and
fastened with a chain.

CHAPTER XIV

A Mad Bull

The Sidcotinga stock-yards presented a very lively scene next morning.
Sax and Vaughan were there with the rest, heartily glad to have
something to do. Mick Darby had introduced his young friends to the
manager the night before, and to their earnest request that he would
"take them on at the station" he had replied: "We'll talk about that
to-morrow night. There's a long day in the yards between now and then.
We'll see how you shape." Dan Collins looked at them very sternly when
he was speaking. He had been on cattle-stations all his life, and was
used to judging men by what they could do a