As it was from time to time pointed out, when principles and admonitions came into play, Ernest was enabled to comprehend the many ways in which stock can be benefited when travelling by discreet and careful feeding, halting, watering, and humouring. So that he actually possessed himself of an amount of practical knowledge with which a year’s ordinary station life might not have provided him. As for the rest of the men, his easy, unassuming equality of manner had rendered him personally a favourite with them. They held that a fair fight settled everything, without appeal, and having come to the conclusion that Mr. Neuchamp was a swell, presumably with money, travelling with sheep for his amusement—incomprehensible as was that idea to them—they felt that he was in a kind of way Jack Windsor’s property, who was likely to be pecuniarily benefited during the stage of Mr. Neuchamp’s softness and inexperience. Hence he was in his right to do battle for him. They would have done the same had they similar golden hopes. And now the matter being over, and ‘Bouncing Bob’ relegated to a ‘back seat’ as wit and occasional bully of the camp, they held, after the English fashion, that the discussion could not be reopened. So all was peace and harmony. One day, as they were sleepily voyaging over the grass ocean, Jack Windsor, who had gone out of his way to look at a man leading a horse, returned with exciting news. The horse aforesaid was young, and in his opinion a great beauty—‘a regular out-and-outer,’ was the expression—and, by great chance, for sale. ‘Would Mr. Neuchamp like to buy him? If he wanted a horse at Garrandilla, he could not do a better thing.’ ‘When you get there, sir, of course you’ll want a hack. There’ll be no more walking, I’ll be bound. You’ll have messages to carry, boundary riding to do, cattle-driving, getting in the horses—all sorts of fast work. Well, either they’ll give you a stiff-legged old screw, that’ll fall down and break your neck some day, or a green half-broken young one that’ll half kill you another road. I know the sort of horses the young gentlemen get at a station where a man like Mr. Jedwood’s the boss.’ ‘Very well, what does he want for the colt? Is he a very good one?’ ‘I haven’t seen his equal for years; don’t know as I ever saw a better. Why he’s fool enough to sell him I can’t tell. But it’s all square. I know the man, and where his run is; you’d better go over and see him.’ ‘So I will; but how can he be kept or broken in?’ ‘I’ll break him; I can rough-ride a bit, and will put him among the other horses and short-hobble him.’ Accordingly Ernest went over and saw a noble, good-tempered-looking dark gray colt. He had a large full eye, black mane, legs, and tail, with a shoulder noticeable even amid the rounded proportions of colthood. ‘So this young horse is for sale?’ he said inquiringly of a middle-aged stout man, like enough to be a brother to their own overseer.