CHAPTER V
‘CALLED ON BY THE COUNTY’
When the important drove reached Warbrok, great was the excitement. Wilfred’s absence was the loss of Hamlet from the play; his return the signal for joy and congratulation. The little commonwealth was visibly agitated as the tired cattle trailed along the track to the stock-yard, with Dick sitting bolt upright in his saddle behind them, and Wilfred essaying to crack the inconveniently long whip provided for him.
The girls made their appearance upon the verandah; Andrew looked forth as interested, yet under protest. Guy walked behind, and much admired the vast number and imposing appearance of the herd; while Captain and Mrs. Effingham stood arm in arm at a safe distance appreciating the prowess of their first-born.
‘Now, sir,’ quoth the ready Dick, ‘we’ll put ’em in the yard and make ’em safe to-night; to-morrow, some one will have to tail ’em.’
‘Tail them?’ said Wilfred. ‘Some of their ears have been scolloped, I see; but surely it is not necessary to cut their tails in a hot climate like this?’
‘S’cuse me, sir,’ said Dick respectfully, ‘I wouldn’t put the knife to them for pounds; “tailing” means shepherdin’.’
‘And what does “shepherding” mean? I thought shepherds were only for sheep?’
‘Well, sir, I never heerd talk of shepherdin’ at home, but it’s a currency word for follerin’ anything that close, right agin’ their tails, that a shepherd couldn’t be more careful with his sheep; so we talk of shepherdin’ a s’picious c’rakter, or a lot of stock, or a man that’s tossicated with notes stickin’ out of his pocket, or a young woman, or anything that wants lookin’ after very partickler.’
‘Now I understand,’ said Wilfred. ‘It’s not a bad word, and might be used in serious matters.’
‘No mistake about that, sir. Now the yard’s finished off and topped up, we’ll soon be able to make a start with the dairy. There’ll be half-a-dozen calves within the week, and more afore the month’s out. There’s nothin’ breaks in cows to stop like their young calves; you’ll soon see ’em hanging about the yard as if they’d been bred here, ’specially as the feed is so forrard. There’s no mistake, a myst season do make everything go pleasant.’