Page:Where the Dead Men Lie.djvu/77

 Old Mac.’s maledictions ring loud in our rear As we rode in hot haste from the incoming day. Then all sudden and strangely we came face to face With the lead of the cattle, and lo! our long race Was run out; and we drew up the horses, all panting In stress of the chase, and yet ready for more; And our eager ears drank in that thunderous roar, While we watched the red squadrons come over the levels As if view-holloa’d by a pack of night-devils— Cow and calf chasing heifer and lumbering steer, With their grey, dripping nostrils, and eyes wide with fear, As if Burgess’s cob followed hard on their rear.

So we blocked them, and lo! the new sun laid a slanting Red finger on one who rode over the plain, Steed treading full slowly, head drooping, slack rein, Turning often aside through the dew-laden grasses To crop a sweet mouthful. We needed no glasses To see it was Fogarty. Once and again, And again did we hail—yet he never looked round, Neither made the least motion of hearing the sound.

Riding on like a man who should ride in his sleep, Or as one in the web of some deep-woven charm, So he came through the grass—his horse striding breast-deep— With a woman held close in the crook of his arm;