Now they had gone some distance, Kit had to make a choice.  One could reach Mireside by a rough moor-land road, but it went round the hills and there was a shorter way across the range.  If he went round, he might arrive late for the reckoning and some of the lambs would get footsore and stop.  On the other hand, he knew the fells and shrank from trying to find his way among the crags in the dark.  It was, however, important that he should not be late.  Hayes was hard, and the Herdwicks must arrive in time to be tallied with the rest of Railton’s flock.  In the dale, a tenant had a traditional right to have his sheep valued by a jury of his neighbors and Hayes had fixed the time at eight o’clock next day.  The animals, however, must be sorted and penned before this, and the work would begin early in the morning.

“We had better try the fells, Tom,” said Kit.

The shepherd looked at the threatening sky and fading line of rugged heights.

“Aw, yes.  It’s gan t’ be a rough neet, but we’ll try ’t.  We can rest a bit at oad mine-house this side Bleatarn ghyll.”

Now their route was fixed, Kit mused about something else.  Railton was his neighbor, but, except for this, Kit had no particular grounds for helping him; he had obviously nothing to gain.  Then, the peat-cutting was his plan; he had, without altogether meaning to do so, allowed himself to become the leader of the revolt against Osborn.  In a way, of course, he was the proper man, because Ashness belonged to his father, and Hayes could not punish him for meddling.  Still, Hayes could punish the tenant farmers and Kit knew they ran some risk.

On the whole, he thought the risk worth while.  He had a talent that was beginning to develop for leading and saw when one could negotiate and when one must fight.  He did not want to fight Osborn, but was being forced into the conflict, and it was comforting to feel that Miss Osborn was not against him.  Her note, telling him he must find the sheep, was in his pocket, and he thought it had cost her something to write.  She was generous and plucky and he must not hesitate.  After all, the job was his and since he had accepted it, he must, if needful, bear the consequences.  Knocking out his pipe, he got up.

“We’ll make a start, Tom,” he said.

The shepherd shouted to the dogs, the flock broke up and trailed out across the heath.  The ewes moved slowly, turning now and then, and Kit thought it ominous that they met other flocks coming down.  The Herdwicks knew the weather and were heading for the sheltered dales.  For all that, he pushed on, with a bitter wind in his face, and by and by cold rain began to fall.  It changed to sleet and the night had got very dark when they crossed the shoulder of a stony fell.  One could not see fifty yards, but the steepness of the slope and the click of little hoofs on the wet rock told Kit where they were.