sing among the
junipers.

Suddenly there was a cry from Sandy.

He threw down the staff and sprang to his feet.

"The herd!" he shouted. "They're off!"

Sure enough! Without a cry the leaders had started for the rimrock, and
in their wake--straight for the face of the precipice--was running the
entire flock.

"They're startled!" gasped Sandy. "We must head 'em off. Run for your
life! We must get between the brainless creatures and the cliff before
they go over."

Donald ran. He had never run so before. His training as a track sprinter
stood him in good stead now. But he had never been a long-distance
runner. Two hundred yards was his limit. Moreover he was not in
training. But he ran--ran as he did not know he could run. He gained on
the sheep. Sandy, in the meantime, was waving his arms to the dogs who,
understanding his slightest motion, now dashed ahead. The sheep,
however, were far in advance by this time. On they sped in mad panic.
Donald could run no more. He began to lag, his heart beating like a
hammer. Even Sandy, who from the opposite direction was racing for the
edge of the rock, slackened his pace.

The race was a hopeless one.

Then without warning, out of the trees at the left side of the field
rode a horseman at full gallop. With flying hoofs he cut in ahead of
the herd just as they neared the face of the rock.

The leaders swerved, circled, and turned about. The gait of the
stampeding flock lessened. The dogs skilfully steered the approaching
sheep out to one side where Sandy scattered them that they might not
collide with the ranks coming toward them. Gradually the fears of the
flock became quieted. Falling into a walk they worked their way into
their customary places and turned about, feeding as they went.

Immediately when Sandy saw them safe he pressed forward to the side of
the horseman where he beckoned Donald to join him.

"I spied your plight from the ridge above, Sandy McCulloch," called the
rider. "The rest of the Crescent herd has gone in to the Reserve and I
have had my eye out for you for days. I thought it was about time that
you were coming along."

"It's a good turn you've done me this day, Sargeant," Donald heard Sandy
say.

"You have done many a favor for me."

"Dinna be talking. It is little I ever did for you. An errand or two
perhaps, or carrying a message--but what is that? Any man would be glad
to do the same. To-night, though, you have saved my whole herd. We
s