Charlie clambered up on the fence and sat there for a moment. The
old man saw him, but evinced no surprise. He just said, "Here,
Mister Who-ever-you-are, kitch hold of that rope." Their united
forces were too much for the steer, and he was hauled in by main
strength under a fusillade of bamboo on his stern. Once in the
small yard, he abandoned the struggle, and charged wildly at his
captors. The old man slipped nimbly to one side, Gordon darted up
the nearest fence, while Carew and the black boy got tangled up
with the rope.
In the sauve qui peut which ensued, Carew pushed the black down
on the ground right in front of the steer, which immediately fell
over him, and tangled him up more than ever. Then it turned on
him with a roar of rage, butted him violently, rolled him over and
over in the dirt, knelt on him, bellowed in his ear, and slobbered
on him. It looked as if the boy must be killed. His mate dashed
in with a bamboo, and welted and whacked away without making any
impression, till the animal of its own accord withdrew gloomily
to a corner of the yard, dragging the rope after it. Carew watched
the prostrate boy in agonised suspense, hardly daring to hope that
he was alive. With a gasp of satisfaction he saw him rise to his
feet, rub some of the dirt off his face, and look round at the
steer. Then he gave his shirt a shake and began to brush himself
with his hands, saying in an indignant tone, "Flamin' bullock!
Spoil my new chirt!"
Now all hands seized the rope again; in a trice the bullock was
hauled up against the fence, thrown to the ground, and held there
while the old man sawed off the point of one horn, which was growing
into the animal's eye. When the job was done he straightened himself
up, and through the covering grime and dust they had a good look
at him.
He had a long, red nose, a pair of bright hazel eyes, and a bushy,
grizzled beard and moustache hiding all the lower part of his face.
On his head was a shapeless felt hat, from which a string passed
under his nose. His arms were hairy and baboon-like; his long thin
legs seemed intended by Nature to fit the sides of a horse. He
wore tweed pants, green with age, and strapped on the inside with
a lighter-coloured and newer material; also a very dirty coloured
cotton shirt, open in front, and showing a large expanse of
hairy chest. His voice was husky from much swearing at profligate
cattle, and there was a curious nasal twang in his tone, a sort of
affectation of Americanism that was a departure from the ordinary
bush drawl.