sion of the
whole area into irregular fields. This work started simultaneously in
the dale-bottoms and on the crests, so that Peregrine's cottage, which
was situated midway between the valley and the mountain-tops, would be
enclosed last of all. The agony which the shepherd endured, therefore,
during these weeks of early autumn was long-drawn-out. He still pursued
his calling, leading the sheep, when the hot sun had burnt the short
wiry grass of the hill-slopes, down to the boggy ground where runnels of
water furrowed their courses through the peat and kept the herbage
green. But go where he might, he could not escape from the sound of the
wallers' tools. It was a daily crucifixion of his proud spirit, and
every blow of the hammer on the stones was like a piercing of his flesh
by the crucifiers' nails.

October brought frost, followed by heavy rains, and the moors were
enshrouded in mist. But the farmers, eager that the enwalling should be
finished before the first snows came, allowed their men no respite. With
coarse sacking over their shoulders to ward off the worst of the rain,
they laboriously plied their task, but the songs and jests and laughter
which had accompanied their work in summer gave way to gloomy silence.
They rarely met Peregrine now, though they often saw him tending his
flocks in the distance, and noticed that his shoulders, which six months
before had been erect, were now drooping heavily forward and that he
walked with tottering steps. They reported this in the farm-houses where
they were lodging, and two of the farmers wives, who in happier days had
been on friendly terms with Peregrine, paid a visit to the old man's
cottage in order to try to induce him to come down to the dale for the
winter or go and stay with one of his sons in the towns. The shepherd
received them with formal courtesy, but would not listen to their
proposal.

"Nay," he said, "I'll bide on t' moors; t' moors are gooid enif to dee
on."

Early in November a party of wallers were disturbed at their work by the
persistent barking of a dog. Thinking that the animal was caught in a
snare, they followed the sound, with the intention of setting it free.
On reaching the spot they found it was Rover, standing over the
prostrate figure of the shepherd. The old man had fainted and was lying
in the heather. The wallers brought water in their hats and, dashing it
in his face restored him to consciousness. He was, however, too weak to
tal