Stories are told of the docility and sagacity of the drover's dog even more surprising than any that are related of the sheep-dog. The Ettrick Shepherd says, that a Mr. Steel, butcher in Peebles, had such implicit dependence on the attention of his dog to his orders, that whenever he put a lot of sheep before her, he took a pride in leaving them entirely to her, and either remained to take a glass with the farmer of whom he had made the purchase, or travelled another road to look after bargains or business. At one time, however, he chanced to commit a drove to her charge, at a place called Willenslee, without attending to her condition, which he certainly ought to have done. This farm is about five miles from Peebles, over wild hills, and there is no regularly defined path to it. Whether Mr. Steel chose another road is uncertain; but, on coming home late in the evening, he was surprised to hear that his faithful animal had not made her appearance with her flock. He and his son instantly prepared to set out by different paths in search of her; but, on going into the street, there was she with the flock, and not one of the sheep missing; she, however, was carrying a young pup in her mouth. She had been taken in travail on those hills; and how the poor beast had contrived to manage the sheep in her state of suffering is beyond human calculation, for her road lay through sheep-pastures the whole way. Her master's heart smote him when he saw what she had suffered and effected; but she was nothing daunted; and, having deposited her young one in a place of safety, she again set out at full speed to the hills, and brought another and another little one, until she had removed her whole litter one by one; the last, however, was dead.