“But all shepherds are not so,” protested Joseph.

“No, indeed.  Brave men they must be; fleet of foot and strong of limb and stout of heart; but brave men are not always quarrelsome.  Many a shepherd whom I have known had a heart as pure and gentle as a child’s.  And the godliest men that I have known have been among them.  If the shepherd has but learned to think, to commune with his own soul, he has time for thought and time for prayer.  More than one with whom I have watched upon these hills knew all the Psalms of David by heart and many of the books of the prophets.  The doctors in the synagogues teach only the law; the shepherds love best the Psalms and the prophets.  They do not forget that King David was himself a shepherd’s lad.  It was upon these very hills that he kept his father’s sheep.  It was in that ravine over yonder, on that hillside, that he, a mere stripling, caught by the beard and killed the lion and the bear that attacked the sheep.  It was on that slope, just a little to the south, that the messenger found him with his flocks when he was called home to be anointed by Samuel the prophet.  When the doctors talk so contemptuously about the shepherds, I wonder if they do not remember that the great king wrote:  ‘The Lord is my Shepherd.’  How can our calling be so mean as they say, when David, who was called from the sheepfolds, praises the Eternal One himself as his Shepherd?  But hark! what noise is that I hear?  There is some trouble among the sheep.”

“Let me run and see,” answers the boy, “and I will come and bring you word.”

So saying, Joseph cast off his father’s shaggy coat, seized the sling in his left hand and the crook in his right and ran swiftly out to the brow of the hill.  He was a strong lad, large of frame and a swift runner, and the sling in his hand was a sure weapon.  The old man looked after him with pride, as he bounded over the rocks, and said to himself: 

“Some evil beast, I doubt not.  But the lad’s heart is brave and he must learn to face dangers.  I will wait a moment.”

Presently the sheep came huddling round the hill in terror.  The quick, faint bleat of the ewes showed that they had seen a foe.  The old man arose and hurried in the direction in which the lad had disappeared.  Joseph was just returning, breathless, from the ravine below.

“It was a wolf, grandfather.  The sheep on this side of the ledge had seen him and were flying.  Just as I reached the brow of the hill, he was creeping round the end of the ledge below, ready to spring upon a ewe that was feeding near.  The first thing he knew a stone from my sling hit him, and he went howling down the hill.  I think I broke his leg, for he went on three legs and I gained on him as I ran after him; but he crawled into a narrow place among the rocks in the gorge down yonder, and I could not follow him.”

“Well done, my lad,” said the ancient Stephanus proudly.  “You will make a good shepherd.  These single wolves are cowards.  It is always safe to face them.  When they come in packs, it is quite another thing.  But this fellow will keep at a safe distance for the rest of the night, you may depend.  Let us go back to our shelter and call the sheep together.”