Dan looked at the papers critically ("might have been holding them upside down for all I knew,” he said later), and assured the drover that all was right.  “Which was true” he added also later, “seeing the boss made ’em out.”  Dan dealt largely in simple trust where the boss was concerned.  Jack, having heard Dan’s report, took his cue from it and passed the papers as “just the thing “; but the Dandy read out every word in them in a loud, clear voice, to his own amusement and the drovers’ discomfiture.

The papers having been thus proved satisfactory, the drovers started their boys with the bullocks, before giving their attention to the packing up of their camp baggage, and we turned to our own affairs.

As the Dandy’s new yard was not furnished yet with a draughting lane and branding pens, the mixed cattle were to be taken to the Bitter Springs yard; and by the time Jack had been seen off with them and our own camp packed up, the drovers had become so involved in baggage that Dan and the Dandy felt obliged to offer assistance.  Finally every one was ready to mount, and then we and the drovers exchanged polite farewells and parted, seller and buyer each confident that he knew more about the cash for that cheque than the other.  No doubt the day came when those drovers ceased to marvel at the Maluka’s simple trust.

The drovers rode away to the north-west, and as we set out to the south-east, Dan turned his back on “them little darlings” with a sigh of relief.  “Reckon that money’s been earned, anyway,” he said.  Then, as Jackeroo was the only available “boy,” the others all being on before with the cattle, we gathered together our immense team of horses and drove them out of camp.  In open order we jogged along across country, with Jackeroo riding ahead as pilot, followed by the jangling, straggling team of pack- and loose horses, while behind the team rode the white folk all abreast, with six or eight dogs trotting along behind again.  For a couple of hours we jogged along in the tracks of Jack’s cattle, without coming up with them, then, just as we sighted the great rumbling mob, a smaller mob appeared on our right.

“Run ’em into the mob,” Dan shouted; and at his shout every man and horse leapt forward—­pack-horses and all—­and went after them in pell-mell disorder.

“Scrub bulls!  Keep behind them!” Dan yelled giving directions as we stampeded at his heels (it is not all advantage for musterers to ride with the pack-team) then as we and they galloped straight for Jack’s mob every one yelled in warning:  “Hi! look out there!  Bulls!  Look out,” until Dan’s revolver rang out above the din.