48 DANVIS FARM LIFE 



meteor. From a near branch in the twilight of a 

 thicket a great horned owl flies away, noiseless as 

 a ghost. With so much to interest them the boys 

 almost forget their errand till they come upon the 

 faint trail of the sheep. Slowly working this out, 

 they at last find the flock wandering aimlessly 

 about nibbling such twigs and withered leaves 

 as are within their reach. Their sojourn in the 

 woods, brief as it has been, has given them back 

 something of the original wildness of their race. 

 They mistrust man of evil designs against them 

 when they meet him in the woods, and run from 

 the sheep-call, "ca-day!" "ca-day!" which in 

 the open fields would bring them in an eager 

 throng about the caller. But civilization has made 

 them dependent, as it has their masters, and they 

 flee homeward for safety, and the boys follow 

 them out through the snowy arches of the woods 

 to the pasture, and so home to the snug quarters 

 where they are to pass the dead months. 



The first foddering is bestowed in the racks, and 

 all the woolly crew fall to with a will and a busy 

 snapping of many jaws. And so, at nine in the 

 morning and at three in the afternoon, are they 

 to be fed till the pastures are green again in May. 



Happier they than the hardy "native" sheep 

 of their owner's grandfather, which had no shel- 

 ter but the lee of the stack that they were fed 

 from in the bleak meadow, pelted by cruel winds 



