The Night-Horse

...And even as those bullocks sprang to their feet, with not one fraction of warning of what was coming, Dainty is with them...

...but on Dandy's wise old head and on his stout old heart rests the success of the trip...

...They like to know when the man is coming and to be warned of his presence from afar...

...A discontented fellow moves restlessly through the mob, poking other bullocks to their feet as he passes, and making a nuisance of himself generally...

...Added to the fury of the pounding hooves comes the crashing of boughs, the stertorous gasps as bullocks are squeezed and crushed, and the loud bellows of agony as others are hurt...

...The mob is resting quietly, their mighty breathing sounding like a giant organ softly played in the distance...

...There are ducks' voices raised in protest, the hissing of wind through taut feathers, and then those black meteors of flight come whizzing through the air and pass but a few feet above the camping cattle...

...But Dainty is there, her nostrils distended, he eyes protruding and shining, her heart thumping against her rider's legs, her flanks pumping in great gasps and drawing buckets of air to her choking lungs...

...Those other horses may earn their oats and a bit to boot...

...But if a drover uses greys, then they must all be greys...

...And through it all, lying over on the wing of the mob and working her way to the lead, picking her way surely, racing light as a gazelle, with one thought, and one thought only, in her game mind-to wheel that mob or bust-Dainty gains on the mob and takes her place on the leading wing...

...But they suffer themselves to be caught, and as the cattle draw on camp and lie down, those two horses are taken to the spot where the men are to sleep...

...Crash...

...When he nears that tree a ghostly apparition rises from its shade and trots back to the mob...

...One duck may have jostled another, there may have been a collision in space, or anything might have taken place...

...The bullocks have been on the road nearly a month, they are nicely broken in, and all is well...

...Really, it is only a form of humor run loose, a cussed contrariness which moves the horse-tailer to bad language, to threats, and almost to tears...

...But she's there, as sure-footed as ever, as keen as a needle, on her tiptoes of excitement and desire, and she throws down the challenge to her charges: "Get away if you can...

...intelligence of a high order is necessary...

...it rings again as the boss drover, mounted on Dandy, works his way along the wing...

...unless he is sure-footed all else is vain...

...With the startling suddenness of a thunder clap, and with the instantaneous breaking of an explosion those bullocks are on their feet...

...Crack...

...From on high comes the whistling whimper of the wings of a mob of wild ducks in flight from one water hole to another, and when just above the camping cattle a squabble breaks out among 'em...

...For one shutter-click of time they pause, and then as with the roaring crash of some gargantuan earthquake only to be imagined in a dream those twelve hundred bullocks are rushing in headlong flight, mad with fear, frantic with frenzy, and borrowing terror one from the other as they sweep in an avalanche of awe from the horror which has spurred them into action...

...She must be able to cut and come again and to hang on and keep going when all but life itself has sped, and then she must be able to unwind a final sprint that takes her to the lead and keeps her there...

...Pluck in unlimited quantities must be his...

...That was a straying bullock...

...She picks her way unerringly over country beset with pitfalls, she reaches forward and pecks at the bit playfully, and with her wise head outstretched, her ears pricked, and seeming to revel in the danger and drink of the spice of risk she lies over and wears her way in on the wing...

...At any other time of the day Dandy and Dainty are friends of the horse-tailer...

...The moon sails under a cloud and the wind dies down to a whisper...

...That is a night-horse...

...Alternately one will be on watch all through the night, the other being tied to a tree waiting its turn, and, as the sun sinks and the drovers ride toward the camp for supper, Dainty goes out to keep the first watch...

...another answers it from behind...

...If a bullock accustoms himself to a guardian on a sombre colored horse, goes to sleep and wakes suddenly on the next watch when the new man is riding a sepulchral mount, then that bullock is hardly to be blamed if he puts his head down and goes for the lick of his life in fear...

...It is hard to say what would be the primary essential...

...Dandy pokes around, his reins hanging loose on his neck, and without advice from his rider he steers out from the mob and edges over toward a tree...

...Mollison may be an adornment to the race-course, Destiny might be the daddy of 'em all on the cattle camp, Sweetheart may shine par excellence as a near leader of the four-in-hand, and Devotion may be a gem for long rides over the plains...

...Shout answers shout and yell echoes yell, and the mob is rung on a little plain the other side of the scrub...

...The man never saw it, the thing did not advertise itself in any way, and that is just part of the virtue of a good night-horse-that and ten thousand and fifty-four other little tricks and accomplishments...

...The cattle demand it...

...As they leave the camp in a solid phalanx of panic the mare is racing beside them...

...She must be a paragon of all the excellences and then some more...

...That, at first glance, may give the cattle the impression that a man is riding a bullock...

...The cattle are drifting down the river...

...Dandy goes off watch and Dainty and her rider take their places...

...For one fitful second the moon shows itself, and in that dim light the lead of the rushing bullocks breaks into a belt of gidyea scrub...

...Goodness only knows what has happened...

...Bang...

...But approaching sundown, and when the cattle are working toward the camp, both those horses have other notions...

...The camp has been picked, and a bit before sundown the horse-tailer goes to get the two night-horses to tie them for the night watches...

...he must have a dash of toe a shade above the average...

...he-hang it all, in memory of a sweet little thing which was once my pride and pleasure, let us change the sex of this our night-horse...

...Bays or browns, dark chestnuts or other common colorings are what we'll have in this our paragon...

...One beast rises to his feet, stretches himself, grunts a couple of times, turns round and lies down again...

...A piebald horse on watch at night with the cattle is anathema...

...Gradually the cattle quiet, and after a time other men on other horses come out from the camp...

...Did he burst on them suddenly without due notice of his approach a nervous beast might flounder to its feet in fear, and the next minute all that will be left of that camp of cattle will be a memory and a cloud of dust...

...but when the cattle are on camp at night old Dandy is a jewel in a rare setting...

...Little squirts of excited cattle break from the main mob and essay to get away...

...a whip rings out, thunderous in its report and smothered to a mere pin-point of sound by the devilish medley of noise of the racing hooves...

...A freak of that sort would be enough to lift the most staid bullock in alarm and send him racing madly from the conjured horror of the spectacle...

...That is our night-horse...

...The man on watch, doing his two or three hours as the case may be, rides round and round the camping cattle, singing, whistling, talking, reciting, playing a mouth organ or making any sort of a noise to advertise his presence...

...It is a quiet camp...

...We must stifle the predilections of her sex to the extent of keeping down on gay coloring...

...Then they are the very dickens and all to catch, then they dodge and provoke, and then, knowing what is ahead of them, they play all the fool tricks in their respective repertoires...

...But ere those little breaks have gained an impetus either Dandy or Dainty have swung to meet them and nip them in the bud...

...And behind her, coming as gamely, as surely, as truly and never flinching an issue, old Dandy ranges beside his mate...

...Smashing whip answers and repeats as the cattle are swung and wheeled...

...With greater care than that with which a girl selects her sweetheart does a drover pick his night-horse...

...Greys are not so bad...