Now these matters, and other strayings and misdoings of the youngling,
befel before the time whereof I now tell, when he was, as aforesaid,
passed of twelve years; and it was in latter autumn, when the nights
are lengthening. At this time there was a hired man dwelling with
them, whose work it was to drive the sheep afield, either up on to the
eastern bents or away off down to the water, so as they might not eat
the grass of the kine from them. But Osberne, both of his own will and
at the bidding of the goodman, went off afield with this man John and
helped him to keep the sheep from straying over-far. Now one day at
evening, somewhat later than he was wont, when, as it chanced, Osberne
had not fared with him, back comes John from the bents, and he looked
scared and pale, and he tells the tale that as the light began to fail
up there, three huge wolves fell upon the sheep, and slew sundry of
them, and it was easy to be seen of him that he had held no very close
battle with the wolves, but had stood aloof till they had done their
supper, and then gathered what he could of the sheep without going
over-near the field of deed. The goodman berated him for his
cowardice, and seemed to begrudge him his victuals somewhat that
night, whereas, what with them who the wolves had slain, and them who
had perchance fled away, the flock was seventeen wethers short. John
excused himself what he might, and said that he had no weapon, nought
save his shepherd's staff, and that the wolves had slain his dog in
the first stour: but while he spake, Osberne, who sat by, deemed him
somewhat stark and tall to be so little-hearted.
However, the next day the goodman and John must needs go up to the
bent to see if they might find aught alive of the sheep that were
missing, and each of them bore a shield and short spear, that they
might make head against the wolves if that host should fall on them in
the middle of the [day]. Meantime Osberne, by the goodman's bidding,
drives the flock down toward the water, nothing loth, for ever the
wondrous stream seemed to draw the lad to it. And a fair day he had of
it, wandering amidst the sheep and being friendly with them, whiles
drawing out his knife to look thereon, as oft he did when he was
alone; and forsooth it was a goodly weapon, carven with quaintnesses
about the heft, the blade inlaid with runes done in gold, and the
sheath of silver. Whiles also he stood on the river's lip and looked
across the water which was there in most places as big as the Thames
is at Reading, but sometimes narrower. But there was nought stirring
within eyeshot on the further bank that day, save the fowl, and a bull
that came running along and lowing as he went on some errand, whatever
it might be, for he was not followed of any men. So he came back with
the flock before dark all safe; neither had he gone far from the
stead, for so he was bidden of by his grandsire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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