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ness on—just plumes on their heads. They're awfully clever. Daddy says they're the best four in Australia. Some day he's going to have four blacks to act with them, but he's only got two good enough now—there they are. He's training them, but they aren't ring-perfect yet."

Hugh's opinion of his guide grew rapidly. She was so small, but she knew so much: there was a crisp clearness in her voice, when she spoke of the horses, that impressed him greatly. He feit very young and ignorant beside her—which undoubtedly he was. They went from one horse to another, and she had stories of each. It was an enchanted hour to Hugh.

Big Dan came across the field, several men following him.

"Hullo—learned all their names yet, sonny? Like to give us a hand now to put them into the orchard?"

Hugh stammered an eager assent.

"Well, take 'em quietly an' don't jerk their heads about. You take those two piebalds: they're steady old chaps an' won't give you any trouble. Here, Nita, you lead Merrylegs and Quondong. Where's that boy Eddie?"

He looked round sharply. A boy of twelve, dark and heavily-built, came from the caravans, breaking into a run as he saw the glance.

"Better learn to jump lively when I call you, Eddie." Big Dan's tone was curt. The boy muttered indistinctly and went forward to the horses, looking sullen.

He did not interest Hugh. There was room for no