The other was delighted, and nearly all George’s bullocks became his for one hundred and fifty sheep.

George was proud of his bargain, and said, “That is a good thing for you and me, Susan, please God.”

Now the next morning Abner came in and said to George, “I don’t like some of your new lot—­the last that are marked with a red V.”

“Why, what is wrong about them?”

“Come and see.”

He found more than one of the new sheep rubbing themselves angrily against the pen, and sometimes among one another.

“Oh dear!” said George, “I have prayed against this on my knees every night of my life, and it is come upon me at last.  Sharpen your knife, Abner.”

“What! must they all—­”

“All the new lot.  Call Jacky, he will help you; he likes to see blood.  I can’t abide it.  One hundred and fifty sheep; eighteen-pennorth of wool, and eighteen-pennorth of fat when we fling ’em into the pot—­that is all that is left to me of yesterday’s deal.”

Jacky was called.

“Now, Jacky,” said George, “these sheep have got the scab of the country; if they get to my flock and taint it I am a beggar from that moment.  These sheep are sure to die, so Abner and you are to kill them.  He will show you how.  I can’t look on and see their blood and my means spilled like water.  Susan, this is a black day for us!”

He went away and sat down upon a stone a good way off, and turned his back upon his house and his little homestead.  This was not the way to make the thousand pounds.

The next day the dead sheep were skinned and their bodies chopped up and flung into the copper.  The grease was skimmed as it rose, and set aside, and when cool was put into rough barrels with some salt and kept up until such time as a merchant should pass that way and buy it.

“Well!” said George, with a sigh, “I know my loss.  But if the red scab had got into the large herd, there would have been no end to the mischief.”

Soon after this a small feeder at some distance offered to change with McLaughlan.  That worthy liked his own ground best, but willing to do his friend George a good turn he turned the man over to him.  George examined the new place, found that it was smaller but richer and better watered, and very wisely closed with the proposal.

When he told Jacky that worthy’s eyes sparkled.

“Black fellow likes another place.  Not every day the same.”

And in fact he let out that if this change had not occurred his intention had been to go a-hunting for a month or two, so weary had he become of always the same place.

The new ground was excellent, and George’s hopes, lately clouded, brightened again.  He set to work and made huge tanks to catch the next rain, and as heretofore did the work of two.