One of the horses in the cart always carried a saddle, and Jacob sometimes rode it postilion fashion, and also rode out with Ned Hampton when the start of the caravan was late and he went out to try to get a shot at game before they moved. In this way he had got to ride fairly, which was Ned's object in accustoming him to sit on horseback, as he told him there was never any saying when it might not be necessary to abandon the cart and to journey on horseback. The two draught horses were ridden in turns, and when the lad rode with his master the third horse was always summoned by a whistle to accompany them, and cantered alongside its companion until both halted, when Ned caught sight of game and went forward alone in its pursuit. Jacob was also taught to use a pistol, and by dint of steady practice had become a fair shot. The meal was just finished when there was a shout from the man placed on the lookout a hundred yards from the encampment. 'What is it?' a boy posted just outside the waggons shouted back. A dead silence fell on the camp until, a minute later, they heard the reply, 'It is only the express rider.' Many of the men rose and moved towards the narrow opening left between two of the waggons to give admittance to the square. The passage of an express rider was always an event of prime interest. These men were their only links with the world. Often if they met them on the way they would not check the speed of the ponies, but pass on with a wave of the hand and a shout of 'All's well,' or 'Redskins about; keep well together.' It was only when a rider happened to reach one of the pony stations, often forty or fifty miles apart, while the caravan was there, that they could have a talk and learn what news there was to be told of the state of the country ahead. It was uncertain whether the rider would draw rein there; he might stop to snatch a bit of food and a drink before he rode on. This hope grew into certainty as the footsteps of a horse at a gallop were heard approaching. The man threw himself off his pony as he entered the square, and the light of the fire sufficed to show that the horse was in the last state of exhaustion, its chest was flecked with foam, its sides heaved in short sobs, its coat was staring. 'Give it half a bucket of water with half a tumbler of whisky in it,' the man said hoarsely. 'It has saved my life.' Jacob ran up with half a pail of water, and Captain Hampton emptied the contents of his flask into it. 'Thanks, mate,' the rider said, holding out his hand; 'that is a good turn I won't forget.' The horse at first refused to drink. Captain Hampton dipped his handkerchief in the bucket and sponged its nostrils and mouth, while its rider patted its neck and spoke encouragingly to it. At the next attempt it sipped a little and then drank up the rest without hesitation.