to take the strain. It was all done so quickly
that the red bull was on its feet again and was tugging at the rope
before anybody realized what the stockman had done. He could have
easily lassoed the escaping beast in the ordinary way, but his blood
was up and he did this wonderful feat just to show his companions that
though he had missed once with the lasso, he could do things with
cattle which they had never thought of.

Eagle's first experience of cattle-branding was the recent day in the
Sidcotinga yards when he had saved Sax from the horns of the infuriated
bull, and the present work was so entirely new to him that he was very
clumsy. Mick did not take this into consideration. Cattle were being
dragged up to the tree one after another, and the brands had to be hot
when he called out for them. That was the only thing Mick cared about
just then. It is not at all an easy job to keep six pairs of brands
red-hot in a fire of very fiercely burning wood on a blazing day in the
desert with a north wind blowing. Everybody tries to avoid being made
brand-man, for it is hard hot work with no praise and plenty of blame.

Poor Eagle made one or two mistakes, was sworn at, and became flustered
and made more and worse mistakes, till Mick began to lose patience.
The boy was really doing his best, and he had even taken off his
much-prized trousers and shirt in order not to be hindered by them.
But somehow he didn't get on at all well; the brands were either not
hot enough, or he hadn't succeeded in keeping the handles cool, or he
was short of wood, or an extra strong gust of wind had blown his fire
nearly all away.

At last Mick got angry. "You useless smut!" he shouted, when Eagle
handed him a couple of brands which were not hot enough. "You useless
smut! I thought you said you'd worked on Eridunda. What work did you
do there? Kitchen jin?"[1]

Eagle did not understand what Mick said, but he saw that the white man
was angry, so he hurried back to the fire and took out two other
brands, hoping that these would please the drover. They were
absolutely red-hot. Mick caught hold of them, but dropped them with a
yell. Eagle had forgotten to pile sand over the handles to keep them
cool, and had allowed the heat to run up the whole length of the shaft.

Mick dropped the brands and vented his rage on the luckless Eagle. The
native was a big powerful man, but Mick took him by surprise. With a
sudden twist the white ma