THE MYSTERY OF THE WEST COUNTRY

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLII, Issue 20610, 26 December 1936, Page 14

THE MYSTERY OF THE WEST COUNTRY

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CHAPTER II "A THIEF IN THE NIGHT” Jocelyn turned restlessly on her bed. Could she face it all? “Afraid of shame, unknown to other fears”—The words of the poet, flashed through her mind. What would her own West Country Captain say? Could she face the guides at home? She had come to this camp at Mt. Parka so proudly—one of the few country girls amongst hundreds of town guides.

Mt. Parka was miles from any town —an out-of-the-way place certainly, but ideally situated for a camp. The Camp Commandant was Dr Mona Grey, a qualified medical practitioner, so that it was not of such importance to be within easy reach of a telephone.

Being one of the very few wearers of the Gold Cord, Jocelyn was looked up to and respected by the other Guides. It was hard to sacrifice all this—but Mary must not be exposed—; she must be given this chance to make good—to send her home now would be the end of everything for her. Still—ah, still—the tears trickled down her cheeks and the hours sped on.

Rain began to fall heavily, and Jocelyn sat up wondering if the guy ropes on the other tents needed slackening.

An unfamiliar sound caught her ear! Hark! What was that! pit-a-pat! pit-a-pat-pit-a-pat. Lifting the flap of the tent, she peered out. Sheep—sheep—and more sheep—hundreds and hundreds of sheep! Where could they be going at this time of night? The storm was over; the moon shone, and Jocelyn drew in a quick breath. There in the moonlight was the most magnificent dog she had ever seen; moving with silent precision around the sheep. Bright yellow, with a peculiar double ring of black around the neck, the collie stopped uncertainly, and glanced at the white tents. “You beautiful creature,” murmured Jocelyn, her heart thrilling at the sight; “but what are you doing here, alone with a mob of sheep at this time of night?” Her mind flew back to the problem that had been alarming and mystifying the farming community for almost a year. Sheep were being stolen in large numbers. Only last week the Warner Bros, from her district had lost 700. The month before 500 were missing from the Greystone Estate. Many sheep stations had suffered, and no trace of the sheep had ever been found. It was an alarming situation, and the mystery remained unsolved. Jocelyn gazed in perplexity—Merinos —and what a vast mob! Yet there seemed to be no man with them! How

marvellously that yellow collie handled them! He did it as well as any shepherd. Where were the sheep going in such vast numbers at this time of night? There was something mysterious and uncanny about it! Supposing—Just supposing—these were the stolen sheep! She would slip out and follow them! She knew many of the brands and earmarks of the different stations. The Warner Bros, had a “W” on the ear, and their brand was WB. The Greystone brand was a double GG. Could she but get near' enough, she might discover to whom the sheep belonged. Noiselessly Jocelyn dressed herself, slipping on warm clothes, a light oilskin and a sou’-wester hat. The sheep had gone past now with surprising swiftness—and out into the darkness slipped Jocelyn, thrilling at the thought of adventure. Gone for the moment were the sad and sorry thoughts of disgrace! Here, perhaps, was a chance to solve the mystery that had been puzzling the keenest brains for many months. "Guides to the Rescue,” murmured Jocelyn, as she slipped noiselessly out. On and on went the sheep, and cn and on went the yellow collie, working with silent and uneering precision. Rain began to fall again, washing out the tell-tale imprints. A couple of hours passed, and Jocelyn consulted her watch. 4 a.m.! She could go on till 5.30 a.m. and see what she could learn. Then if she hurried, she could still be back at camp for Colours at 8 a.m.

“I’ve disobeyed orders and broken bounds," thought Jocelyn ruefully. “Still, there was no telephone within miles and by the time Captain Lad communicated with the police, dog and sheep would have been lost. And it, wasn’t any use taking a town girl with me! Mary would have been a heip, but she has broken enough rules, already, and her first stripe is due. Her reverie ended abruptly, for the dog, turning the sheep sharply to the right, headed them down a steep unused grassy track. Down and down they Went, at an almost perpendicular angle, the yellow collie moving with the sagicity of a human being. Here they found themselves In a pretty little glen. “What a good place for a picnic,” thought Jocelyn. “We hiked past here, once, and never dreamt of such a snug retreat.” A large grassy oval was almost surrounded by native bush, on the outskirts of which wound a stream. Creeping steadily down the hill, Jocelyn marvelled as the collie took the tired sheep to the stream to drink, then quietly rounding them up in the oval, settled down to rest. “Now is my chance,” thought Jocelyn, as she crept noiselessly on. She reached the foot of the hill, and on hands and knees crept across the grassy flat. Could she get near enough to discover the brands or earmarks without disturbing the sheep? Foot by foot she crept, then stopped suddenly. The yellow dog had roused himself; now he was standing up; now he was sniffing the air uncertainly; now

he was looking in her direction! Jocelyn lay motionless; the moon was behind a cloud; surely she could not be seen! Yet, what was that. The collie was coming slowly towards her, growling softly. There was no mistaking it! She had been discovered!

Born and bred on a country sheep station, Jocelyn had been used to handling dogs all her life. So, standing erect, she called softly, “Good boy—good dog,” and held out her hand encouragingly. The collie looked at her uncertainly, and the growls continued. Still Jocelyn spoke softly. The growling grew louder, the lips curled back, and Jocelyn could see the gleaming white teeth. The yellow dog was not to be won by coaxing. Glancing quickly round, Jocelyn made a swift rush and reached an isolated kowhai tree, into which she hastily climbed. The dog walked after her leisurely, settled himself comfortably. and prepared to rest. Jocelyn waited patiently. Perhaps the brute would go to sleep! Half an hour later, she made a movement to descend the tree. Instantly the collie rose, stretched himself and growled softly. Half an hour later she made a second attempt, and again the dog rose and gave a warning growl. “Well,” thought Jocelyn ruefully, “here I am, and here I’ll have to stay —treed by a yellow peril! Oh, dear, I can’t get back now in time for Colours! There’s something in the saying, “One may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb”! she added whimsically. (to be continued).