Now they were in thickish brush, with no more than a big trail for a path. Pete lashed the grey till he got alongside the very tail of the flying herd and made them gallop faster still. They were all dreadfully uneasy, alarmed, and curious, and as they went grew wilder. They horned each other in their hurry to escape the devil behind them, and the horned ones at last fairly stampeded as if they were all wild cattle off the range in the autumn. They went headlong, with a wild young cow leading. Pete screamed horribly, cracked with his whip, cut at them and yelled again. The brush was thick in front of them on the very edge of the cañon. The little thinning trail almost petered out and turned sharply to the left. The leader missed it and burst through the brush in front of her. The others followed. Behind the maddened brutes came Pete. He saw the leader swerve with a horrid bellow and try to swing round. She was caught in the ribs by a big steer and went over. The ones who came after were blinded, their heads were up in the crush: they saw nothing till there was nothing in front of them. They swept over the edge in a stream and bellowed as they fell. On the empty edge of the cañon Pete pulled up the sweating grey, who trembled in every limb. Below them was a groaning mass of beef. They were no longer cattle, though one or two stumbled from the thick of the herd and the dead and stood as if they were paralysed. "I wis' Ned was there," said Pete, as he turned and galloped back down the beaten, trampled trail. "I wis' I had him here. I serve him out." He rode as hard as the wretched grey could go to where he had left his bundle. He picked it up and turned the horse loose. Perhaps it was hardly wise to ride it into Kamloops. It was night before he got there. He found Kamloops Charlie in town, drinking, and reckoned that no one would find out for days what had happened to the cattle. He told Charlie that he had stayed where he was left, and had at last determined to come into town. "Kahta ole Cultus?" he asked. But Cultus had taken steamer, having caught it as it was on the point of leaving. Pete saw Simpson at the hotel and spoke to him. "Your sister says as it warn't Cultus as done it," said Simpson. "That's what she says: she allows it was a stranger, poor gal!" They said she would live. But those who had seen her said it would be best if she died. One side of her face was dreadfully injured. "She must ha' bin' mighty fond of Ned Quin," said Simpson. "She's the only one araound ez is, I reckon." He stood Pete a drink. Pete told what he had told Kamloops Charlie. "I tho't you'd kem along bymby," said Simpson. "I'm sorry for the poor gal, so I am. There's them as don't hanker after any of you Siwashes, Pete, but I maintain they may be good. But dern a nigger, anyhaow. You'll be huntin' a job, Pete?" Pete owned sulkily enough that he was hunting a job.