"I don't know how I came to be so foolish," said Fiona. "I ought to have spoken to it instead of trying to catch it. But I forgot."
"Better luck next time," said Apollo; "we must try again."
But though the dogs worked the whole of the ferns carefully, there was no other bird there.
They came back and lay down beside Fiona, tongues out and panting.
"It's no use trying the heather yet, I know," said Artemis. "Birds are never in it at this time of year."
"There are some more ferns two miles on," said Apollo doubtfully. "I saw a bird there once, three years ago."
"I wish I knew what to do," said Fiona.
"We can leave it for a day or two and come back," said Artemis. "Those two birds will be back again to look for each other."
"But they won't be so confiding again," added Apollo.
They were all so preoccupied that they never noticed the shepherd till he was quite close to them. He was striding down the track, a big, raw-boned man with red hair; a plaid was thrown loosely across his shoulder; at his heels followed a jet black collie.