Brindle always preferred mutton to marsupial, so he let the
latter slide and secured the ewe. The death-scene was most imposing.
The ground around was strewn with small tufts of white wool. There was a
complete circle of eager, wriggling dogs--all jammed together, heads down,
and tails elevated. Not a scrap of the ewe was visible. Paddy Maloney
jumped down and proceeded to batter the brutes vigorously with a waddy.
As the others arrived, they joined him. The dogs were hungry, and fought
for every inch of the sheep. Those not laid out were pulled away, and!
when old Brown had dragged the last one off by the hind legs, all that was
left of that ewe was four feet and some skin.
Dad shook his head and looked grave--so did Anderson. After a short rest
they decided to divide into parties and work the ridges. A start was made.
Dad's contingent--consisting of himself and Joe, Paddy Maloney, Anderson,
old Brown, and several others--started a mob. This time the dogs separated
and scampered off in all directions. In quick time Brown's black slut
bailed up an "old man" full of fight. Nothing was more desirable. He was
a monster, a king kangaroo; and as he raised himself to his full height on
his toes and tail he looked formidable--a grand and majestic demon of the
bush.
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