re that a lot of those around him have gone too. Roughly
speaking we call it a hundred."

"But when you have such big bands of sheep and they are moving about I
should not think the markers would be in the same place twice,"
persisted Donald, determined to fathom this puzzling problem.

"You dinna ken sheep, laddie! They are as jealous to keep their rightful
place in the flock as school children are to get the first place in the
line. They will fight and fight if another takes the position that
belongs to them. It is a silly idea, but an aid to the herders."

"And so the leaders and these markers really help the shepherds to
manage the flock?"

"Aye. But you're leaving out the shepherd's best helper."

Sandy's face suddenly softened into tenderness.

"His best helper?" repeated Donald.

"Aye, laddie! His dogs!"

Bending down the Scotchman thrust his hand into the ruff of shaggy hair
about the neck of one of the collies beside him. There was a low growl
from the other dog, who rose and rested his pointed nose on Sandy's
knee.

The man laughed.

"Robin," he said, addressing the collie before him, "must you always
take it amiss if I have a word for Prince Charlie? You're no gentleman!
Down, both of you!"

The collies crouched at his feet.

"I never can speak to one without speaking to the other," he went on.
"They are jealous as magpies."

"They are the finest dogs I ever saw, Sandy."

"I pride myself there are not many like them," agreed the herder. "I
raised them from puppies and trained them myself. Now Colin, who also
goes with me when I go to the hills, is a good dog, but he is not my
own. He belongs to the ranch. So do Victor and Hector. You never feel
the same toward them as you do with those you have brought up yourself.
Robin and Prince Charlie are not to be matched in the county. But to see
them at their best you must see 'em on the range."

"I wish I could!"

"So it's to the range you'd be going, is it? Well, well--belike when the
herds are made up and we set out your father will let you go up into the
hills a piece with me."

"Oh, Sandy," cried the boy, "would you take me? Do you suppose father
would let me go?"

"'Twill do no harm to ask him. I must wait, though, until I see the
other herders off, and until Thornton is back from Glen City. The
flocks must have a few days' rest after the dipping. Poor things! It is
a sorry time they have being dipped in that hot bath just after they
hav