A mob of wild cattle were evidently coming along the edge of the scrub, and had caught scent of the strangers.

Again the bull roared; there is no animal on earth with so emphatically warlike a note as the wild bull when advancing to meet a strange mob.

The quiet cattle answered with plaintive, long-drawn lowings, and the din became general as the two lots met.
"Let 'em get well mixed up," said Considine quietly, tightening his girths, and swinging into the saddle.

Everyone followed his example.
Carew was shaking with excitement.

Angry bellowing now arose from the cattle, which were apparently horning one another--such being their manner of greeting.
Considine said, "There's a big lot there.