"I'd like it as much as you.
But I can't let you have a drink just now."
He pressed him on across the muddy stream, floundering over sunken logs,
slipping into holes, dodging half-concealed snags; and so they came to a
bank which scarcely seemed a possible place, so steep was it. But Wally
looked at the smoke-cloud, and grew desperate, and for the first
time touched Shannon with the spur; and the chestnut answered gamely,
springing at the bank and climbing almost like a cat. Twice it broke
under him; the third time he made some footing, and Wally suddenly flung
himself from his back, scrambling up ahead of him, and hauling at the
bridle. Shannon followed, floundering and snorting; desperately relieved
to find himself on firm ground again. Wally swung into the saddle and
they galloped forward.
The next two fences were log ones, and the chestnut took them almost in
his stride. Then Wally's lips tightened, for he saw a homestead that
he knew must be Maclennan's, the most prosperous farmer about; and
Maclennan had strong views on the subject of inflammable fences in a
country so liable to grass fires, and all his property was wire-fenced.
The first fence stretched before him, taut and well-strung; he looked up
and down its length in search of a gate, but there was none in sight.
"I could put my coat on the top wire for you to jump if it was a thick
one, old chap," he told Shannon.
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