One ventured--the others followed.
In the middle the leader stopped and tried to turn--and time was flying, flying, and the penning alone must take minutes. Many a man's hand was at hig watch, but no one could take his eyes off the group below him to~ look.
"We're beat! I've won bet, Tammas! groaned Sam'l. (The two had a long-standing wager on the matter.) "I allus knoo hoo 'twould be. I allus told yo' th' owd tyke
Then breaking into a bellow, his honest face crimson with enthusiasm: "Coom on, Master! Good for yo', Owd Un! Yon's the style!"
For the gray dog had leapt on the back of the hindmost sheep; it had surged forward against the next, and they were over, and making up the slope amidst a thunder of applause.
At the pen it was a sight to see shepherd and dog working together. The Master, his face stern and a little whiter than its wont, casting forward with both hands, herding the sheep in; the gray dog, his eyes big and bright, dropping to hand; crawling and creeping, closer and closer.
"They're in!--Nay--Ay--dang me! Stop 'er! Good, Owd Un! Ah-h-h, they're in!" And the last sheep reluctantly passed through
A roar went up from the crowd; Maggie's white face turned pink; and the Dalesmen mopped their wet brows. The mob surged forward, but the stewards held them back.
