Though With No
Better Feed Than Grass, Dry And Withered, The Freedom From Work Had Made
Them Skittish.
What a pretty sight it is to see a mob of horses trooping
in for water at night; the
Young colts kicking up their heels with
delight; the solemn old packhorse looking with scorn on the gambols of his
juvenile brethren, with a shake of his hardy old head, as much as to say,
"Ah! wait till you've done the dry stages that I have; wait till you make
your evening feed off mulga scrub and bark - that'll take the buck out of
you! Why can't you have your drink soberly, instead of dancing about all
over the place?"
Then bringing up the rear, far behind, just emerging from the scrub, are
seen those who, from their wandering habits, must wear the bracelets,
hurrying and shuffling along with a rattle of chains, tripping up in their
eagerness to be even with their mates in the scramble for water: presently
they pause to look about and neigh - a delay resented by those behind by a
friendly bite, answered by a kick; which starts them all off at full
gallop, in the approved rocking-horse style, with a tremendous clatter of
hobbles and bells. Suddenly they halt, snorting, and as suddenly start
aside, wheel round, and dash away, as they catch sight of our long-necked
beasts. They have seen them often enough, and know them well, but they
must keep up an appearance of panic, if only to please their masters, who
never cease to jeer at the ungainly shape of the camel, until they possess
one themselves.
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