t 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.

Two hours afterwards, he stopped for breath at the bottom of a narrow
valley. The sleet had turned to driving snow, the wind howled in the
rocks above, and a swollen beck brawled angrily among the stones. Tom was
hardly distinguishable a few yards ahead and Kit could not see the sheep,
but the barking of the dogs came faintly down the steep white slope. The
Herdwicks were strung out along the hillside, with a dog below and above,
and it was comforting to know they could not leave the valley, which was
shut in by rugged crags. For a time, driving them would be easy; but it
would be different when they left the water and climbed the rise to
Bleatarn ghyll.

"How far are we off the m