"I have been told they are only common stock," the boy remonstrated
gravely, "but you may be right. Howbeit, they are not mine and I can
not leave them."
"You have been misinformed," the decurion said gravely, while his men,
circling around the growling dog, went on with their work. "These are
Roman sheep, with the Flavian coat of arms and the mark of the army in
black on their hides--if you shear them. But if you make away as fast
as you can I shall not tell Titus which way you went."
The sheep had started pell-mell toward the Roman road. The decurion
turned back to his horse. The shepherd released his dog, which ran
after the flock, and stepped into the decurion's way.
"However these sheep look when they are sheared," he said, "this seems
to be robbery to me."
"Robbery!" the good-natured decurion exclaimed. "This is but a
religious rite that Mercury got out of the cradle at two days to
establish. Only he took Apollo's cattle while we are contenting
ourselves with the sheep of mortal ownership. Robbery! What an
inelegant word!"
Meanwhile the stampeded sheep were making in a cloud of dust back over
the road toward the west from which the Romans had come.
"What shall I say to the citizens of Pella?" the little shepherd
shouted, pursuing the decurion who was making back to his horse as
fast as he could go.
"Salute them for me," the decurion shouted back, "and make them my
obeisances, and say that I shall report on the flavor of the sheep by
messenger from Jerusalem."
In a moment the boy sprang into the decurion's way so suddenly that
the soldier almost fell over him.
"Be fair!" the boy exclaimed. "At least leave me half!"
The decurion was losing patience and the shepherd had grown more than
ever serious.
"Fair!" the Roman echoed. "Why, I have been indulgent! This is war! It
is almost a breach of discipline to argue with you. Out of the way!"
"The Roman army has all the world to feed it; Pella has only its
sheep. We, then, must face hunger and cold because your appetites
crave mutton this day!" the boy returned resentfully.
The decurion pointed down the road.
"Why waste your breath! There go the sheep."
The boy's dark eyes filled with tears. The decurion swung around him
and went back to the horses that waited in the road. He knotted their
bridles together and, leading one of the number, remounted and rode
west after the receding cloud of dust which hid the flock.
The shepherd's head sank on his heaving breast and he stood still.
"Lord Jesus, I pray Thee, give me my sheep again!" he prayed.
A deep prolonged thunder that had been filling the hills with sound
began to multiply as the nearest slopes caught it and tossed it from
echo to echo. It was not loud but immensely prevalent. Those wayfarers
who had fled came back to the brink of the hill and those who had
stood their ground walked out into the grass to look back. Around the
curve of a buttress of rock that stood out at the line of the road,
the head of a column of Roman cavalry appeared. The superb
color-bearer bore on his hip the staff supporting the Imperial
standard.