f Ringwaak.

The backwoodsman knew right well that a flock of sheep may be driven,
but that a single sheep must be led; so he held his new possession
securely by a piece of stout rope about ten feet long. For an hour or
two the ram followed with an exemplary docility quite foreign to his
independent spirit. He was subdued by the novelty of his
surroundings,--the hillocky, sloping pastures, and the shadowy
solemnity of the forest. Moreover, he perceived, in his dim way, a
kind of mastery in this heavy-booted, homespun-clad, tobacco-chewing,
grave-eyed man from the backwoods, and for a long time he felt none of
his usual pugnacity. But by and by the craving for freedom began to
stir in his breast, and the blood of his hill-roving ancestors
thrilled toward the wild pastures. The glances which, from time to
time, he cast upon the backwoodsman at the other end of the rope
became wary, calculating, and hostile. This stalwart form, striding
before him, was the one barrier between himself and freedom. Freedom
was a thing of which he knew, indeed, nothing,--a thing which, to most
of his kind, would have seemed terrifying rather than alluring. But to
him, with that inherited wildness stirring in his blood, it seemed the
thing to be craved before all else.

Presently they came to a little cold spring, bubbling up beside the
road and tinkling over the steep bank. The road at this point ran
along a hillside, and the slope below the road was clothed with
blueberry and other dense shrubs. The backwoodsman was hot and
thirsty. Flinging aside his battered hat, he dropped down on his hands
and knees beside the spring and touched his lips to the water.

In this position, still holding the rope in a firm grasp, he had his
back to the ram. Moreover, he no longer looked either formidable or
commanding. The ram saw his chance. A curious change came over his
mild, yellow eyes. They remained yellow, indeed, but became cold,
sinister, and almost cruel in their expression.

The backwoodsman, as he drank, held a tight grip on the rope. The ram
settled back slightly, till the rope was almost taut. Then he launched
himself forward. His movement was straight and swift, as if he had
been propelled by a gigantic spring. His massive, broad-horned
forehead struck the stooping man with terrific force.

With a grunt of pain and amazement, the man shot sprawling over the
bank, and landed, half-stunned, in a clump of blueberry bushes. Dazed
and furious