There was a struggle, a low growl of rage.
Then the collie trotted back to Donald's side dragging in his teeth a limp mass which he dropped at the lad's feet.
The boy struck a match and turned the creature over with his foot.
It was a coyote!
Then how glad he was that he had not left his post!
At dawn Sandy came to relieve him. The herder glanced first at the dead coyote, then at some faint tracks in the moist earth.
"You have interrupted a midnight orgy, Don," he declared at last, rubbing his hands together as he always did when anything pleased him very much. "Here are the marks of at least four coyotes that were stealing down on the flock when you fired. You got this one, and evidently drove off the others. I wish we had had as good luck on our side of the fold. In spite of his watchfulness Bernardo lost two lambs. He is one of our best herders, too, and he is sore about it. You have done a good night's work, lad. I am proud of my pupil!"
And as Donald heard Sandy's words his lips parted in a smile and he felt he would have patrolled a line twice as long to have earned the young Scotchman's praise.
