It was just the same here. The sheep passed through perfectly and wheeled for the Shedding Ring, while all the time the judges' scorecards showed maximum points and the crowd watched in a kind of hypnotised hush, whispering to one another for fear of breaking the spell.
"He's not put a foot wrong!"
"Bang through the middle of every gate".
"Lovely steady pace".
"And the handler, he's not said a word, not even moved, just stood there leaning on his stick".
"Ah, but he'll have to move now - you're never going to tell me that pig can shed four sheep out of the ten on his own!"
The Shedding Ring was a circle perhaps forty yards in diameter, marked out by little heaps of sawdust, and into it the sheep walked, still calm, still collected, and stood waiting.
Outside the circle Babe waited, his eyes on Hogget.
The crowd waited.
Mrs Hogget waited.
Hundreds of thousands of viewers waited.
Then, just as it seemed nothing more would happen, that the man had somehow lost control of the sheep-pig, that the sheep-pig had lost interest in his sheep, Farmer Hogget raised his stick and with it gave one sharp tap upon the great sarsen-stone, a tap that sounded like a pistol-shot in the tense atmosphere.
And at this signal Babe walked gently into the circle and up to his sheep.
"Beautifully done", he said to them quietly, "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you all. Now, if the four ladies with collars would kindly walk out of the ring when I give a grunt, I should be so much obliged. Then if you would all be good enough to wait until my boss has walked across to the final collecting pen over there and opened its gate, all that remains for you to do is to pop in. Would you do that? Please?"
"A-a-a-a-a-a-ar", they said softly, and as Babe gave one deep grunt the four collared sheep detached themselves from their companions and calmly, unhurriedly, walked out of the Shedding Ring.
Unmoving, held by the magic of the moment, the crowd watched with no sound but a great sigh of amazement. No one could quite believe his eyes. no one seemed to notice that the wind had dropped and the rain had stopped. No one was surprised when a single shaft of sunshine came suddenly through a hole in the grey clouds and shone full upon the great sarsen-stone. Slowly, with his long strides, Hogget left it and walked to the little enclosure of hurdles, the final test of his shepherding. He opened its gate and stood, silent still, while the shed animals walked back into the ring to rejoin the rest.
Then he nodded once at Babe, no more, and steadily, smartly, straightly, the ten sheep, with the sheep-pig at their heels, marched into the final pen, and Hogget closed the gate.
As he dropped the loop of rope over the hurdle stake, everyone could see the judges' marks.
A hundred out of a hundred, the perfect performance, never before matched by man and dog in the whole history of sheep-dog trials, but now achieved by man and pig, and everyone went mad!
At home Mrs Hogget erupted, like a volcano, into a great lava-flow of words, pouring them out towards the two figures held by the camera, as though they were actually inside that box in the corner of her sitting-room, cheering them, praising them, congratulating first one and then the other, telling them how proud she was, to hurry home, not to be late for supper, it was shepherd's pie.
As for the crowd of spectators at the Grand Challenge Sheep-dog Trials they shouted and yelled and waved their arms and jumped about, while the astonished judges scratched their heads and the amazed competitors shook theirs in wondering disbelief.
"Marvellous! Ma-a-a-a-a-a-arvellous!" bleated the ten penned sheep. And from the back of an ancient Land Rover at the top of the car-park a tubby old black-and-white collie bitch, her plumed tail wagging wildly, barked and barked and barked for joy.
In all the hubbub of noise and excitement, two figures still stood silently side by side.
Then Hogget bent, and gently scratching Babe between his great ears, uttered those words that every handler always says to his working companion when the job is finally done.
Perhaps no one else heard the words, but there was no doubting the truth of them.
"That'll do", said Farmer Hogget to his sheep-pig. "That'll do".
FB2 document info
Document ID: 70805961-b282-4c1d-b303-6646d8e0863e
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 17.12.2012
Created using: calibre 0.9.10, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Dick King-Smith
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/
The Sheep-Pig Page 6
