“What! You dare to speak to me like that, you—you impertinent black-haired goat! If you dare to say another word I will hook you with my strong horns.”
“And what do you suppose I would be doing while you were doing that?” asked Billy. “What do you suppose I would be doing with my own long horns about that time?”
“Look here, young impertinence, I don’t intend to stand here and talk to you all morning, so be off with you.”
“Neither shall I waste any more time over you, Mr. Puffed-up, so take that, and that!” said Billy, as he gave the ram two sharp hooks in his side and sent him rolling to the bottom of the aroya.
When he looked up he found that all the sheep had gathered around to see how the bully of the herd was going to come out with the slick black stranger. Billy made a bow to them and said:
“I would not explain to Mr. Puffer who I am, but I don’t mind telling you all that I am the goat selected by your master to lead this flock, and he brought me all the way from Boston to do it. He picked me out because he thought I was a good fighter and could take care of myself as well as protect you from the wolves, which he said were bad in these parts. Now if any one of you thinks I can’t take care of myself and would not make a good leader, I would like him to walk out of the flock and say so, and we can fight it out while the rest of you look on and see fair play.”
No sheep or goat walked out, and from that day until he left he was the most beloved and admired of all the leaders the flock had ever had.
The next day Billy, as the acknowledged leader, determined when he started out not to stop for water at that dirty aroya, but to push on to the foot-hills and see if he could not find a nice, cool spring, or at least some water that was not as thick with yellow mud as that they had drunk the day before.
He let the sheep graze as they went, but he always managed to keep ahead of them a few steps and in this way they unconsciously hurried forward and by noon found themselves climbing the steep sides of the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains, which in comparison with the main-ranges seem like little hills.
