They had not been an hour on the road before Yussuf stopped to point across the gorge to an object which had taken his attention on the other side.
“Do you see, effendi Lawrence?” he said smiling.
“No.”
“Yonder, just to the left of that patch of bushes where the stone looks grey?”
“Oh, yes; I see now,” cried the lad—“a black sheep.”
“Look again,” said Yussuf; and he clapped his hands to his mouth and uttered a tremendous “Ha-ha!”
As the shout ran echoing along the gorge the animal on the farther slope, quite two hundred yards away, went shuffling along at a clumsy trot for some little distance, and then stopped and stood up on its hind-legs and stared at them.
“A curious sheep, Lawrence!” said Mr Preston, adjusting his glass; “what do you make of it now?”
“Why, it can’t be a bear, is it?” cried Lawrence eagerly.
“Undoubtedly, and a very fine one,” said Mr Preston.