band of eight hundred at the mercy of the riders. Swiftly they coursed round the rim of the cup, stationing themselves at wide intervals. Then, at an opening shot from their leader, the six rode slowly down on to the sheep band, each emptying the magazine of his rifle into the clotted mass as he descended.
It was slaughter. The scum of woolly bodies tossed and boiled wildly, rushing from side to side to seek escape from the whiplashes of fire all about. Individuals leaped upon the backs of their fellows and hobbled across a moving pavement to death. A few scuttered between horses' legs and ran bleating into the circle of the dark. The silence of the wide places under the stars was shattered by a horrid hubbub of blatting and bawling. Inexorably the circle of slaughterers drew smaller and the piles of bodies in the bottom of the depression waxed higher. Finally it became dangerous to horse and rider for any man to shoot longer, and the remnant of the band was ridden out of the charnel pit and scattered through the night with wild yip-yip-yips.
Away to the north a second pillar of fire was mounting toward the stars, and volleys of rifle shots came faintly on the wind.
