Page:Where the Dead Men Lie.djvu/118

 Throwing light and shade incessant On the Bull Peaks’ ragged crescent, Upon whose gloomy forehead lay a patch of winter’s snow.

Idly watching for the starting Of the race that he had part in, Old Gaylad stood and champed his bit, his weight about nine stone; His owner stood beside him, Who was also going to ride him— A shearer from Gegederick, whose name was Ned Malone.

But Gaylad felt disgusted, For his joints were fairly rusted: He longed to feel the pressure of the jockey on his back;