How he'd worked his way out to this back part of the run, where a bull of his quality ain't often seen, nobody could say.

But he was a lively active beast, and he'd got into fine hard fettle with living on saltbush, dry grass, and scrub for the last few months, so he could travel as well as the others.

I took particular notice of him, from his little waxy horns to his straight locks and long square quarters.

And so I'd need to--but that came after.

He had only a little bit of a private brand on the shoulder.