The Miss Gilpins and their sisters-in-law would have been inclined to laugh at this speech, had it not been for the impudence of Mark’s looks and tone. On the arrival of the gentlemen he softened his manner; and James and Arthur, ever kind and thoughtful, began at once to consider how they could employ their old companion, so that he might not feel the weight of his obligation to them. He decided that he would be employed as a stockman, without considering his fitness for the occupation, but preferring to ride about on a good horse to walking on foot or sitting in the house with account-books before him. He acquitted himself, however, more to his employers’ satisfaction than they had expected. He learned to ride and manage his horse well; and by the time he had gained a knowledge of the country, he had attained many of the requisites of a good stockman. He showed no inclination, however, to consider himself of the rank of one, but, assuming on his early friendship with the Gilpins, was constantly appearing at the house, and at length it became tolerably evident that he proposed to better his fortunes by marrying one of the Miss Gilpins. Jane had reason to believe that she was honoured by his preference. Suddenly, after this discovery, Craven ceased to pay his visits at the house as usual, or, if he came, went only to the business room, and declined stopping to luncheon or dinner. Whether or not Jane was in any way concerned at this, she let no one discover. Mark came oftener than ever, boasting that he should soon become a stockholder on a large scale, and that he intended to introduce great improvements in the management of cattle in Australia.
Where cattle are so apt to stray, as in the Australian bush, herds of different proprietors may occasionally get mingled, and therefore it is necessary to brand them carefully. When this operation is to be performed, the animals are driven into a pound. Ropes are then cast over the horns and legs of the bullock to be first marked, he is thrown to the ground, and the hot iron is applied. This is often a work of no little danger; for when a young bull, who has been roaming at liberty since his calfhood, finds himself thus treated, he is apt to turn on his tormentors, and to attempt to retaliate. A considerable mob of cattle had to be branded at Warragong, and all the hands who could be collected were employed in driving them into the pound. To get them there was difficult; to hold them quiet while being marked was still more so. One young and very powerful bull had resisted all the attempts made to catch him, when Mark Withers—who at that instant caught sight of the Miss Gilpins riding by—declared that he could manage the animal; and, leaping over the paling, lasso in hand, approached it with unexpected hardihood. The animal’s rage appeared excited to an ungovernable pitch at seeing him, and, lowering his head with a loud roar, he dashed towards him. While attempting to spring on one side, the unfortunate man’s foot slipped, and before he could recover himself, he was transfixed by the animal’s horns. The bull then, lifting up his head, bore his victim as if in triumph round and round the pound. In vain Withers struggled to release himself, and shrieked for help. James and Arthur and Willie, followed by several men, leaped into the pound, regardless of the risk they ran of being set on by other animals.
“Oh! horrible! Save him! save him!” simultaneously cried the Miss Gilpins, who had ridden up.
At that moment Craven, who heard their cry, rode up, and, seeing the state of affairs, ordered the gate to be opened, and dashed in. The next instant he had thrown the lasso over the bull’s head, clearing the man, and while he drew it tight round the creature’s neck, the rest of the party came up and were able to get theirs round his legs and to bring him to the ground. Mark breathed, but had received some severe injuries. Whether they might prove fatal it was difficult to say.
“Oh! Mr Craven, we are indeed grateful for the way in which you released that poor man from his horrible position,” said Jane, in a sweet, yet unfaltering voice, as, on riding out of the pound, Craven bowed stiffly to the sisters.
He looked at Jane’s countenance earnestly, and then rode up alongside her horse.
“I have some slight surgical skill, perhaps I may be of service,” he said quietly.
Withers was being carried at this time towards the house.
“Oh! try what you can do. My brothers will be most thankful. It would be dreadful were he to die in his present, as I fear, unprepared state,” she replied.
Craven drew a deep breath. Susan echoed her sister’s words. They were approaching the house.