“Dinna say that; oh, dinna cease to have faith in His mercy and long-suffering,” said the old man, beseechingly. “I am old and fechless, and, as I hae told ye, a drunkard neither mair nor less; but I cling to the promises in this book (here he took from his pocket an old, much-worn Bible), and though the mortal pairt o’ Jock Harlaw be stained wi’ sin and weakness and folly, I hae na abandoned the hope and the teaching o’ my youth, nor the trust that they may yet gar me triumph over the Adversary. But we must be ganging; it’s twenty miles, and lang anes too, to Jimburah.”
There was nothing but to buckle to the journey. Jack was weak after his illness, but he faced the road as the manifest alternative, the old man’s rations having been exhausted, and further sojourn in the deserted hut being inexpedient.
He was thoroughly exhausted when the home-paddock of Jimburah was sighted. He walked up with Jock Harlaw to the overseer’s cottage, the proprietor’s house being unapproachable by the “likes of them.” Here he and his companion stood for half an hour, waiting the arrival of that important personage, the overseer, along with nearly a dozen other tramps, candidates for work, or merely food and shelter in the “travellers’ hut,” like themselves. A stout, bushy-bearded man rode up at a hand-gallop in the twilight, and spoke.
“Well, there seem plenty of you just now, a lazy lot of beggars, I’ll be bound; looking for work and praying you mayn’t get it, eh?”
This was held to be very fair wit, and some of the hands laughed appreciatingly at it.
“Any shepherds among you? You fellows with the dogs I suppose have stolen them somewhere to look like the real thing? Oh, it’s you, old Jock, is it?” he went on, with a good-natured inflection, changing the hard tones of his voice. “You’re just in time; I’ve lost two rascally sweeps of shepherds at the dog-trap. Can you and your mate take two flocks of wethers there? You know the place.”
“Nae doot they’ll be bad sheep to take,” quoth old Jock, with national caution. “Just fit to rin the legs off a man with the way they’ve been handled; but I’m no saying, if ye’re in deeficulty.”
“Then you’ll take them? Well, you can come as early as you like to-morrow morning. But stop; is your mate any good? You don’t look as if you’d done much shepherding, though you’ve got a fine dog, by the look of him.”
“He’s a friend of mine,” affirmed Jock, with prompt decision, “and I’ll wager ye a pound o’ ’bacco ye hav’na a better shepherd on the whole of Jimburah.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the official, “he may be as good as most of them, and be no great things either. However, I’m hard up, and must risk it. What’s your name?”