was walking down it like as if they was the beasts agoing into Noah's Ark.
It wound and wound and got deeper and deeper till the walls of rock
were ever so far above our heads. Our work was done then; the cattle
had to walk on like sheep in a race. We led our horses behind them,
and the dog walked along, saving his sore feet as well as he could,
and never tried to bite a beast once he got within the walls.
He looked quite satisfied, and kept chuckling almost to himself.
I really believe I've seen dogs laugh. Once upon a time I've read of
they'd have taken poor Crib for a familiar spirit, and hanged or burnt him.
Well, he knew a lot, and no mistake. I've seen plenty of Christians
as he could buy and sell, and no trouble to him. I'm dashed if the old mare,
too, didn't take a pleasure in working cattle on the cross.
She was the laziest old wretch bringing up the cows at home,
or running in the horses. Many a time Jim and I took a turn out of her
when father didn't know. But put her after a big mob of cattle
-- she must have known they couldn't be ours -- and she'd clatter down a range
like the wall of a house, and bite and kick the tail cattle if they didn't get
out of her way. They say dogs and horses are all honest, and it's only us
as teaches 'em to do wrong. My notion's they're a deal like ourselves,
and some of 'em fancies the square racket dull and safe, while some takes
a deal kindlier to the other. Anyhow, no cattle-duffer in the colonies
could have had a better pair of mates than old Sally and Crib,
if the devil himself had broken 'em in special for the trade.

It was child's play now, as far as the driving went. Jim and I walked along,
leading our horses and yarning away as we used to do when we were little chaps
bringing in the milkers.

`My word, Dick, dad's dropped into a fine road through
this thundering mountain, hasn't he? I wonder where it leads to?