"Why, Artemis, Apollo, what's the matter?" said Fiona. Then she looked up and saw the shepherd. "Why, it's only the new shepherd and his collie. There's nothing to be afraid of." "Collie!" said Apollo. "That thing's not a collie. Can't you see?" "Shepherd!" echoed Artemis. "That thing's not a shepherd. Oh, can't you see?" The shepherd came up to Fiona, and said that Miss Fiona was out early and was there anything he could be doing for her. He spoke in the soft correct English of the Gael. "I came out to catch a woodcock to talk to it," said Fiona, "and we can't catch one." It occurred to her, even as she spoke, that the statement sounded a little out of the ordinary. But the rough shepherd never let the least sign of this show on his face. He answered in the most matter-of-fact way, with the gentle courtesy of the west coast, that there would not be many woodcock in yet, and would he try to catch one for Miss Fiona? "Oh, do you think you could?" said Fiona eagerly. "I should be so grateful." Then the shepherd saw the trouble of the dogs. He said something to them in a language that was neither English nor Gaelic, and waved his own dog to go. The collie went straight off up the moor, and sat down on the top of the nearest rock ledge, an odd little blot of black on the brown and yellow moorland. Apollo and Artemis got up and shook themselves violently. "It was the international password," said Apollo. "Goodness knows where he got it from. But we have to recognize it." "I'm not happy," said Artemis. "I was well brought up. I never associated with this sort of thing before." Fiona, who knew that a new shepherd had been coming, could make nothing of their trouble, and did her best to smooth them down. The shepherd led the way up the hill, and on to a little rough plateau broken with rocks and bits of heather, lying under the main rise of the hill where it rounds away toward the Glenollisdal burn. "I am thinking that there should be a woodcock about here," he said. "This is one of the earliest places in all the heather," whispered Artemis to Fiona. "He must know this moor very well." "It's too early yet, all the same, even for here," said Apollo. It looked as if Apollo were right. For when at the shepherd's request Fiona threw the dogs off, they quartered the whole plateau and found nothing. But the shepherd stuck to his guns. "I am thinking that there should be a bird here," he said. "Will Miss Fiona give me leave to try my own dog?"