The hardland on the other side we greeted with joy.
Brown Jug extended himself with a snort.
Suddenly a jar seemed to shake my very head loose.

I found myself staring over the horse's head directly down into a deep and precipitous gully, the edge of which was so cunningly concealed by the grasses as to have remained invisible to my blurred vision.

Brown Jug, however, had caught sight of it at the last instant, and had executed one of the wonderful stops possible only to a cow-pony.
But already the cattle had discovered a passage above, and were scrambling down and across.

Brown Jug and I, at more sober pace, slid off the almost perpendicular bank, and out the other side.
A moment later we had headed them.

They whirled, and without the necessity of any suggestion on my part Brown Jug turned after them, and so quickly that my stirrup actually brushed the ground.
After that we were masters.