mouth, calmly remarked, 'I'll ride him,' whereupon the crowd burst out with a cheer, evidently looking upon the offer as one of exceptional merit.
There was no bridle or saddle in this case. A rope was fastened around the animal's body, and with this slender accoutrement only, the stock-rider deposited himself upon the ridge of the red bullock's back. Then the gate was opened, and out he came in all his glory.
No one that has merely observed the clumsy gambols of the meadow-fed ox can have an idea of the speed and agility of the bush-bred steer, reared amid mountain ranges and accustomed to spurts up hill and down, with a smart stock-horse rattling by the side of the drove, always making excellent time, and not infrequently distancing their pursuers amid the forests and morasses of their native runs.
This one had a shoulder like a blood horse, great propelling power, and stood well off the ground, with muscular arms and hocks to match.
He reared, bucked, and plunged almost with the virulence and variety of the colts, and when, after a prolonged and persevering contest, he gradually managed to shift his rider on to his croupe, and thence by a complicated and original twist of his quarters dislodged him, it was felt by the spectators that he had worthily sustained the honour of the stock-riding fraternity. Cheers resounded from all sides, as the crowd returning to a centre surrounded the fallen but not disgraced combatant. I think the boys were privately disappointed that the bullock did not turn to gore his antagonist, but he was too much excited for such an attack. He made a bee-line for the fence, which, all-ignorant of its flimsy nature, he did not attempt to jump or overthrow, contenting himself with running by the side of it until he came to the corner, where a gate was cunningly left open for his departure. After a respectable 'cap' had been collected for the veteran, who was more than twice the age of the other competitors, the prizes were distributed, and the entertainment concluded.
As an Australian I may be slightly prejudiced, but I must confess to holding the opinion that our bush-riders in certain departments are unrivalled. The South American 'gaucho' and the 'cow-boy' of the Western States are, doubtless, wonderful horsemen, but they ride under conditions more favourable
