‘Safe as houses. Sheep ain’t like cattle; they don’t like skirmishing about in the dark. So after tea a man can light his pipe, roll his blanket round him, and make believe to watch till daylight. It’s a very off chance if e’er a sheep stirs any more than himself.’
‘It doesn’t seem a hard life,’ said Ernest, as they sat on a log and ate chops fried in a pan, using a large flat piece of damper partly as plate, partly as entrée, while the pint of quart-pot tea tasted better and was more refreshing than the highest priced Souchong in the daintiest china.
‘Well, it’s a long way from hard work, but six months of it at a time, as I’ve had now and then, makes you feel you’ve had enough for a while; besides, it’s Sunday and workday; not an hour’s change week in, week out.’
‘I daresay that makes a difference,’ admitted Ernest, ‘but I wonder what a Buckinghamshire field labourer would think if he were suddenly offered twenty-five shillings a week, with all the bread and mutton he could eat, and a small bag of tea.’
‘And half rations for the dawg,’ put in the Australian, throwing their new purchase about half a pound of mutton.
‘By the way,’ said Ernest, ‘what is his name? and yours too, for I don’t know yet? I suppose he will be very useful. I’m glad you bought him.’
‘My name’s Jack Windsor; his name’s Watch; he’s that useful that three men with two pairs of legs each couldn’t do the work that he’ll do for us with these crawling sheep. He’s a cheap pound’s worth, and that you’ll find before we go far.’
When the evening meal was finished Mr. Neuchamp and his henchman went over to one of four fires which had been lighted at opposite sides of the woolly multitude. Jack Windsor lighted his pipe and lay down upon his blanket, where he smoked luxuriously and dozed by turns. Ernest reclined in the same fashion, and after a short struggle with his very natural drowsiness fell fast asleep.
At daylight next morning Mr. Neuchamp awoke without it being necessary for any one to call him. The bosom of great mother Hertha was harder than any resting-place which he had hitherto tried; but youth and an adventurous disposition being on his side, he found when dressed that the mental thermometer registered an altitude fully above the average. The sheep were still lying down and appeared by no means to be anxious to crop the dewy grass, or whatever somewhat wiry and infrequent herbage did duty for that traditional description.
‘Yonder’s the cook’s fire,’ explained Mr. Windsor, pointing to a rising smoke; ‘we’d better get our breakfast to begin with.’