And yet their number was remarkable.  Yes, there were our twenty sheep, with our big cheviot in their midst, coolly enjoying themselves in the fine clover grass that Carver was jealously reserving for the benefit of his own ewes.  Without waiting to explain to herself the meaning of what she saw, or the reason of my being away from the sheep, Jessie hastened towards the clover field.  As she approached, however, something occurred that made her run with all speed.

Suddenly there was a commotion among the sheep and a noisy barking, for in their midst was Tom Kinlay with his great retriever dog.  He chased the sheep into a corner of the enclosure, and proceeded to belabour them with a heavy stick.  The cheviot, however, bolder than Tom had supposed, turned at bay, made a heavy rush at him, and butting him aside bounded over the low wall, followed by all the flock.

Tom was soon on his feet, and with his dog he gave chase.  One of the small Shetland ewes was overtaken, and disabled by a knock on the head.  The other animals, led by the cheviot, were running madly towards the cliffs when Jessie, arriving on the scene, attempted to intercept them.  But the dog was fleet of foot, and, encouraged by Tom’s cries of “After them, good dog, after them!” continued the pursuit with high enjoyment.

The cheviot, with the stupidity of its kind, saw not the danger to which it was hastening.  Panic stricken, it rushed towards a part of the cliffs known as the Lyre Geo, and no efforts of Jessie could divert its onward career.

When Kinlay became conscious of what he had done he called back his dog.  But as he watched the sheep bounding and leaping on in their mad course his apprehensions gave place to merriment; and when the cheviot, with a high spring into the air, went headlong over the precipice, followed by the smaller sheep, he burst forth into a fit of laughter loud and uncontrolled.

“You great brute, Tom Kinlay!” exclaimed Jessie indignantly; “if Halcro had been here you would not have done this cruel thing.”

“Well,” said Tom, “what for did the sheep go into our field, eating up all the clover?  Halcro should have been minding them.  It serves you right that the sheep have gone over the bank.”

This, and more that I know not of, was said between them.  But Jessie wasted no time in dispute.  Her concern for the poor sheep was too great for idle discussion.

“Come away,” she demanded, “and help to get the poor beasts from the water.”

“Get the sheep from the water yourself,” returned Tom stubbornly; and whistling to his dog he went homeward as though nothing unusual had happened.

On looking over the brink of the cliff Jessie found that it would be useless to attempt without assistance to recover any of the sheep.  Two of them she saw floating out to sea, several of them lay apparently dead far down on the rocks.  One had fallen on a projecting part of the cliff, and others, instead of jumping over the edge, had run down a narrow pathway, and, though not injured, stood in danger from the fact that they could neither proceed nor turn back without falling.