But there were once fine sheep on these hills, Jesus answered, and I remember a ram---- Ay, mate, thou mayest well remember one, and I think I know the shepherd that thou'rt thinking of, but he that owns the breed will not sell a ram for the great sums of money that have been offered to him, for his pride is to keep the breed to himself. We've tried to buy, and been watching this long while for a lucky chance to drive one away, for a man that has more than he needs and will not sell aught thereof calls the thief down into his house, as it were, creating the thief out of an honest man, for which he deserves to be punished. But the rich are never punished and this man's shepherds are wary, and his dogs are fierce, and none has succeeded yet in getting a sample of the breed. But where may this man be found? Jesus asked, and the shepherd mentioned a village high up on the mountains over against the sea. But go not thither, for twenty miles is a long walk if the end of it be but jeers and a scoffing. A scoffing! Jesus returned. Ay, and a fine one in thine ears; and a fine thirst upon thee, the shepherd continued, and turning to the oak-tree he began to cut branches to feed his goats. Twenty miles uphill in front of me, Jesus meditated, with jeers and scoffings at the end of the journey, of which I have had plenty; and he began to walk quickly and to look round the hills in search of pasture for a flock, for these hills were but faintly known to him. It isn't reasonable that a man will not part with a ram for a great sum of money, he said, and though he may not sell the lamb to his neighbours, whom he knows for rascals, he may sell to the Essenes, whose report is good. And he continued his way, stopping very often to think how he might find a bypath that would save him a climb; for the foot-hills running down from west to east, off the main range, formed a sort of gigantic ridge and furrow broken here and there, and whenever he met a shepherd he asked him to put him in the way of a bypath; and with a word of counsel from a shepherd and some remembrance he discovered many passes; but despite these easy ways the journey began to seem very long, so long that it often seemed as if he would never arrive at the village he was seeking. He told me I'd find it on the last ridge looking seaward. He said I couldn't miss it; and shading his eyes with his hand, Jesus caught sight of some roofs that he had not seen before. Maybe the roofs, he said, of the village in which I shall find my ram, and maybe he who will sell me the ram sits under that sycamore. If such be my fortune he will rise to meet me, Jesus continued, and he strove against the faintness coming over him. Is there a fountain? he asked. By that arch the fountain flows, drink thy fill, wayfarer. His sight being darkened he could not see the arch but stumbled against it and stood there, his face white and drawn, his hand to his side, till, unable to bear up any longer, he fell.