216 The Mountain Sheep 



she appeared to dismiss it from her thoughts. 

 She moved over the terrace, grazing a little, 

 walking a little, stopping, enjoying the fine day, 

 while her good child amused itself by itself. 

 I feared but one thing, that the wind might take 

 to blowing capriciously, and give their noses 

 warning that a heathen stranger was in the 

 neighborhood. But the happy wind flowed 

 gentle and changeless along the heights of the 

 mountains. I have not more enjoyed anything 

 in the open air than that sitting on the terrace 

 watching those creatures whose innocent blood 

 my hands were not going to shed. 



After a proper period of relaxation, the mother 

 judged it time to go on. There was nothing 

 haphazard in her action; of that I am con- 

 vinced. How she did it, how she intimated to 

 the lamb that they couldn't stop here any longer, 

 I don't pretend to know. I do, however, know 

 that it was no mere wandering upward herself, 

 confident the lamb would follow; because pres- 

 ently (as I shall describe) she quite definitely 

 made the lamb stay behind. She now began 

 mounting the hill right toward me, not fast but 

 steadily, waiting now and then, precisely as other 

 parents wait, for her toddling child to come up 



