He looked about him, and for the first time became aware of a tow-headed youth above him on the hill. The youth leaned on a staff, and at his feet crouched two long-haired dogs. Bob turned his horse in that direction. When he had approached, he saw the boy to be about seventeen years old. His hair was very light, as were his eyebrows and eyelashes. Only a decided tinge of blue in his irises saved him from albinism. His lips were thick and loose, his nose flat, his expression vacant. In contrast, the two dogs, now seated on their haunches, their heads to one side, their ears cocked up, their eyes bright, looked to be the more intelligent animals. "Good evening," said Bob. The boy merely stared. "You in charge of the sheep?" inquired the young man presently. The boy grunted. "Where are you camped?" persisted Bob. No answer. "Where's your boss?" A faint gleam came into the sheep-herder's eyes. He raised his arm and pointed across through the woods. Bob reined his horse in the direction indicated. As he passed the last of the flock in that direction, he caught sight of another herder and two more dogs. This seemed to be a bearded man of better appearance than the boy; but he too leaned motionless on his long staff; he too gazed unblinking on the nibbling, restless, changing, imbecile sheep. As Bob looked, this man uttered a shrill, long-drawn whistle. Like arrows from bows the two dogs darted away, their ears flat, their bodies held low to the ground. The whistle was repeated by the youth. Immediately his dogs also glided forward. The noise of quick, sharp barkings was heard. At once the slow, shifting movement of the masses of gray ceased. The sound of murmurous, deep-toned bells, of bleating, of the movement of a multitude arose. The flock drew to a common centre; it flowed slowly forward. Here and there the dark bodies of the dogs darted, eager and intelligently busy. The two herders followed after, leaning on their long staffs. Over the hill passed the flock. Slowly the sounds of them merged into a murmur. It died. Only remained the fog of dust drifting through the trees, caught up by every passing current of air, light and impalpable as powder. Bob continued on his way, but had not proceeded more than a few hundred feet before he was overtaken by Lejeune. "You're the man I was looking for," said Bob. "I see you got your sheep in all right. Have any trouble?" The sheepman's teeth flashed. "Not'tall," he replied. "I snik in ver' easy up by Beeg Rock." At the mill, Bob, while luxuriously splashing the ice cold water on his face and throat, took time to call to Welton in the next room. "Saw your sheep man," he proffered. "He got in all right, sheep and all." Welton appeared in the doorway, mopping his round, red face with a towel. "Funny we haven't heard from Plant, then," said he. "That fat man must be keeping track of Leejune's where-abouts, or he's easier than I thought he was." VIII