Amidst this congenial debris roamed a herd of gaunt pigs,
fierce-eyed, quarrelsome pigs, that prowled restlessly about, and
ever and again returned disconsolately to the stinking carcasses of
some large birds of prey that had been thrown out in the sun. They
were flat-sided, long-legged, long-nosed, and had large bristling
manes--showed, in fact, every sign of reverting to the type of the
original pig that yachted with Noah. Living with them, in a state
of armed neutrality, were three or four savage-looking cattle dogs,
who honoured the strangers with deep growls, not condescending to
bark.
Charlie pulled up in front of the house, and cooeed. A Chinaman
put his head out of the kitchen door, smiled blandly, said "'Ello!"
and retired. Gordon and Carew unsaddled the horses, put the hobbles
on, and carried all the gear into the house. By this time the Chinee
had donned a dirty calico jacket, and began in silence to put some
knives, forks, and pannikins on the table.
"Where's the old man?" roared Charlie, as if he thought the Chinee
were deaf.
"No more," he replied.
"Don't understand any English, eh?"
"No more," said he.
Just then a tramping of hoofs was heard; and looking out of the back
door they saw, about two hundred yards away, a large horse-yard,
over which hung a cloud of dust. Under the dust were signs of a
struggle.
"He's in the yard," said Charlie. "Let's go up."
The cloud of dust shifted from place to place, and out of it came
a medley of weird oaths, the dull thudding of a waddy, and the heavy
breathing of men and animals in combat. Suddenly a lithe, sinewy
black boy, dressed in a short blue shirt, bounded like a squirrel
to the top of the fence and perched there; and through the mist they
saw a very tall old man, holding on like grim death to the end of
a long rope, and being hauled about the yard in great jumps by a
half-grown steer. Behind the steer another black boy dodged in and
out, welting and prodding it from time to time with a bamboo pole.
Maddened by the blows, the steer would dash forward and narrowly
miss impaling the man on his horns; then, taking advantage of his
impetus, the old man would try to haul him into a smaller yard.
Every time he got to the gate the steer yanked him out again by a
series of backward springs that would have hauled along a dromedary,
and the struggle began all over again. The black boy on the fence
dropped down with the agility of a panther, took up the rope behind
the old man, and pulled for all he was worth.
"Hit him there, Billy! Whack him! Come on, you son of a cow! I'll
pull you in if I have to pull your head off. Come on, now!" And
once more the struggle raged furiously.