Author's Preface 



in the ground! Upon my word, one would 

 think that he knew the number of Sheep con- 

 fided to his care, his Sheep, though never a 

 bone of them comes his way ! He has counted 

 them from the top of his knoll. One is 

 missing. Sultan rushes off. Here he comes, 

 bringing the straggler back to the flock. 

 Clever Dog! I admire your skill in arith- 

 metic, though I fail to understand how your 

 crude brain ever acquired it. Yes, old 

 fellow, we can rely on you; the two of us, 

 your master and I, can hunt the Dung-beetle 

 at our ease and disappear in the copsewood; 

 not one of your charges will go astray, not 

 one will nibble at the neighbouring vines. 



It was in this way that I worked, at early 

 morn, before the sun grew too hot, in 

 partnership with the young shepherd and our 

 common friend Sultan, though at times I was 

 alone, myself sole pastor of the seventy bleat- 

 ing Sheep. And so the materials were ga- 

 thered for this history of the Sacred Beetle 

 and his rivals. 



