But no wolf or panther was in the thicket, and the lamb returned to him:  brought back, he said, by a memory of the bottle.  But, my poor wee lamb, there is no sweet milk in my bottle, only sour, which would pain thee.  Think no more of life, but lie down and die:  we shall all do the same some day....  Thy life has been shorter than mine, and perhaps better for that.  No, I’ve no milk for thee and cannot bear to look in thy face:  run away again in search of the ewe and find instead the panther that took her.  Poor little lamb, dying for milk in this wild place.  So thou hast returned to me, having found neither ewe nor panther.  Go, and seek a wolf, he will be a better friend to thee than I.

He had seen many lambs die and did not understand why he should feel more pain at this lamb’s death than another’s.  But it was so; and now all his hopes and fears centred in this one thing that Fate had confided to his bosom.  A little milk would save it, but he had no milk.  He might pick him up and run, calling to the shepherds, but none would hear.  I cannot listen to his bleating any longer, he said, and tried to escape from the lamb, but he was followed round the trees, and just as he was about to climb into one out of the lamb’s sight his nostrils caught the scent of fleeces coming up the hillside.  A shepherd is leading his flock to the well-head, he said, so, wee lamb, thou wilt not die to-day, and, addressing himself to the shepherd, he said:  I’ve got a lamb of the right breed, but have no milk to give him.  Canst thou pay for it? the shepherd asked; and Jesus said, I can, and the shepherd called a ewe and the lamb was fed.

Well, luck is in thy way, the shepherd said, for I was on my way to another well, and cannot tell what came into my mind and turned me from it and brought me up here.  Every life, Jesus said, is in the hands of God, and it was not his will to let this lamb die.  Dost believe, the shepherd answered, that all is ordered so?  And Jesus answered him:  thou’lt fill my bottle with milk?  The shepherd said:  I will; but thou hast still a long way before the lamb can be fed again.  Hide thy bottle under a cool stone in yon forest and in the evening the milk will still be sweet and thou canst feed thy lamb again and continue thy journey by starlight.  But these hills are not my hills; mine are yonder, Jesus said, and at night all shapes are different.  No matter, the way is simple from this well, the shepherd answered, and he gave Jesus such directions as he could follow during the night.  Now mind thee, he continued, look round for a shepherd at daybreak.  He’ll give thee fresh milk for thy lamb and by to-morrow evening thou’lt be by the Brook Kerith.  And this advice appearing good to Jesus, he turned into the shade of the trees with his lamb, and both slept together side by side till the moon showed like a ghost in the branches of the trees.