“Yes, we’re takin’ turns to ride up. The ’orses is near doin’ a perish. We won’t do much ridin’ now though, after we’re back. It’ll be foot work mostly, to get ’em up the hill.”
When their horses had finished feeding, the men rode clattering over the Ridge and down the track, and presently another batch came up. It was dark when they came, and they said the sheep were almost at the gate when they left.
“When will my uncle be up?” asked Ess.
“’E’s not comin’ up,” said Jack Ever. “We led up ’is ’orse an’ Steve Knight’s, and we’re to carry ’em down a bite an’ a billy o’ tea when we go down again.”
“Will one of you drive me down in the buggy?” asked Ess. “I’ll take down some food for them and Mr. Sinclair, and some tea.”
So it was arranged, and Jack drove her down in the buggy.
Half-way down they met a man flogging his horse up the track at a hand gallop. Jack shouted at him as he passed, and “Goin’ for axes” the man shouted back over his shoulder.
“Axes,” said Ess to Ever. “What do they want axes for?”
“Lord above knows,” said Ever. “An’ they wants ’em in suthing’ of a hurry, too, evidently.”
They were driving slowly and carefully so as to avoid jolting and spilling the tea, and just as they came to the gate the horseman came tearing down the road again with the axes balanced across his pommel.