“Why,” cried Archie at last, “this beast means to pull my arms out at the shoulders. I always thought I knew how to hold the reins till now.”
“They have a queer way with them, those bush-ranging horses,” said Bob; “but I reckon you’ll get up to them at last.”
“If I were to give Tell his head, he would soon be in the van.”
“In the van? Oh, I see, in the front!”
“Yes; and then I’d be lost. Why these chaps appear to know every inch of the ground. To me it is simply marvellous.”
“Well, the trees are blazed.”
“I’ve seen no blazed trees. Have you?”
“Never a one. I say, Craig.”
“Hullo!” cried the head stockman, glancing over his shoulder.
“Are you steering by blazed trees?”