It was a lovely morning; the lambs played with the wild flowers, the birds sang so joyfully in the neighbouring wood, the breezes were so mild and odorous, that the hearts of the shepherds were filled with an unusual gladness, and they both began to play a sacred air on their reed pipes.
The bells of the royal convent began to ring, and their melodious harmonies penetrated the heart, powerful and irresistible as a voice from heaven.
"There is something glorious in such a solemn chime," said the elder shepherd to his son, who sat near him. "The tones seem to come down to us from the eternal heights, and remind us of our duty and our better home."
"It is indeed true," replied the younger. "The chimes possess an incomprehensible power over the mind, and awake the inner life to devotion and holy reflections; and I never look across to the towers whence those bold and fearless tones rise on the air, without seeing in them landmarks pointing to heaven."
"Oh, what a pity!" added the father, "that our new church in the New Town must stand so long without either tower or bells. What a pity that a work to God's honour must remain unfinished, while the rich build palaces and heap up treasures. How willingly every poor person in the town would contribute, if thereby the edifice could only be completed. But without a special blessing from God, many years may pass away before the church is finished."
"Father!" cried the son, interrupting the conversation, "where are our dogs? I don't see them by the flock, and still the faithful creatures have never yet left their post without our commands. What can have started them and allured them away? Where shall we find them again?"
"Yonder, my son!" said the father, whose eye had swept exploringly the neighbourhood, pointing toward the near forest. "I see them running as fast as possible toward the wood; they scent game, no doubt, and are on the track."
And they both whistled, and called the dogs by name, but in vain, for the hitherto so obedient animals only turned their heads slightly at the sound of the well-known voices, and then continued their wild race.
Astonished at the unwonted disobedience, and anxious lest they might lose the dogs, the shepherds decided to follow them to the borders of the wood. The flock was feeding quietly in a meadow, and there was no danger of its wandering away.
The border of the wood was soon reached, but no trace of the dogs was to be seen. They had already penetrated the thick underbrush, and a stripe in the dewy grass showed the way they had taken.