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on your left," said McKenzie, "the cattle are off like a streak! -
Rouse up the camp as you're passing" - his words seemed to end in a shriek.
And instantly into the saddle and out in the teeth of the rain,
We followed like fiends demented out o'er the soft Boree plain;
The splash of the hoofs through the gilgais and snapping of horns far in front
As the mad cattle raced helter-skelter, solely our guide in the hunt.
"Hell take it, I'm down," said the darkie, "walla-walla
make terrible hole."
But the maddest of breaks has an ending - and after a twenty-mile
McKenzie was battered all over, and Nicholls as sore as myself,
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