“Can you keep ’em going?” Billy gasped. “I’ll get round ’em and open the gate.”
He shot off to one side, crouching low on his pony’s neck; and for a moment Rex felt blank terror. What should he do, if the cattle turned and came charging back to the shelter of the timber? What power had he to stop them? Luckily, the problem was not given to him to solve. Billy kept well away from the cattle, swinging round them in a wide half-circle; and Merrilegs dropped to a canter, keeping them moving in the right direction, while Rex continued to utter mechanical yells in a kind of cracked yelp. Billy swung the gate open to its fullest extent, and then came racing back as he had gone, well out from the bullocks, until he could swing in behind them and push them on.
To the bullocks the open gate and the sun-dried plain beyond offered respite from the demons in the rear. They jostled each other through the opening, and lumbered away at full gallop, spreading out as they went.
“We’ve done it, Rex!” Billy gasped: “an’ I never thought we would. They can’t be burnt anyhow.” His face was scarlet, and his hat was gone, but his eyes were dancing. He held the gate for Rex to pass through. “I say, do you think you can hurry home an’ take word to Father? I’m going back to help.”
“Not to the fire?”
“Rather. Some one ought to be there to help keep it off Emu Plains. You can get home all right, can’t you, Rex? Merrilegs will take you.”
“I can get home all right,” Rex said. “But you—will you be safe, Billy?”
“ ’Course I will.”
“But you said they didn’t let you go to fires.”
“I’m letting myself go to this one,” Billy returned. “Think I’m going home now—to sit down an’ have tea? My word, no—I’m goin’ back with the men!”