Flash the Sheep Dog

by Kathleen Fidler

  “Now what am I going to do with you?” Tom said aloud in dismay. “If I take you back I’ll be late for school and I can’t take you with me.” He set the dog down on the road and pointed in the direction of the farm and said, “Go back, Flash!”

  Flash ran back a few steps, then because he could not or would not understand, he crouched down in the road as he might behind a flock of sheep and waited for Tom’s whistle.

  “Jings!” Tom said, using Uncle John’s favourite expression, “If I leave you I believe you’d wait there all day!” For a minute the temptation jumped to his mind that here was a glorious chance to play truant. It was a warm, sunny day. The water in the little river tinkled and splashed its way down the valley. He had his “piece” in his pocket so that they need not go hungry. They could both return to the farm at the time his aunt would expect them and no one would be any the wiser. He could make some excuse to the schoolmaster next day that he had not been well. Then, all at once, Tom had a mind-picture of Uncle John patiently instructing him how to train Flash, gladly giving him what little leisure time he had.

  “It wouldn’t be fair, Flash,” he said aloud, as though the dog could share his reasoning. “I’ve got to go to the school even if it’s only not to let Uncle John down with Mr Donaldson. Suppose Mr Donaldson asked him why I wasn’t at school?”

  Temptation urged that it might be a long time before Uncle John saw Mr Donaldson again and the question might never be raised, but Tom put the thought from him.

  “Come on, Flash!” he called, and he went down the hill with Flash at his heels.

  The children were assembling in the playground when he reached the school, but the school doors were not yet open. Tom was at a loss what to do with Flash and halted at the school gate with his hand on his collar. Just then the minister’s son, Douglas Campbell, spotted him.

  “Hi, you! You can’t bring dogs into the playground!” he shouted officiously.

  Tom ignored him and entered the playground.

  “Did you hear what I said? You can’t bring your beastly dog in here!”

  “Mind your own business!” Tom retorted.

  “Who is he?” another boy asked Campbell.

  “He’s just a cheeky brat from London,” Campbell said. “He even had the impudence to call my father a liar because he said that London was a dirty place. He needs a lesson in manners.”

  Tom’s temper began to rise. “Are you going to give me one?” he challenged Douglas Campbell.

  “Oh, he’s wanting a fight!” cried the other boy. “Give him a punch, Douglas!”

  Douglas did not know quite what to do. As the minister’s son he had never had to fight for his position before, but if he did not take up the London boy’s challenge he knew his prestige would fall in the eyes of his classmates. He advanced threateningly on Tom, his fists raised and Tom lifted his own in defence. Douglas aimed a blow at Tom, but Tom side-stepped and it only grazed his shoulder.

  Both boys had forgotten about Flash in the heat of the moment. Flash gave a low growl and sprang to Tom’s defence. He caught Douglas by the turn-up of his long trousers and held on!

  “Hi! Call your dog off!” Campbell cried to Tom.

  “No!” Tom yelled back. “Not till you’ve apologized for calling him a beastly dog.”

  “I shall not!” Douglas defied him.

  “Hold it, Flash!” Tom shouted.

  Flash took a firmer grip on Douglas’s trouser, though his teeth did not penetrate the flesh. Douglas tried to shake the dog off but that only made Flash worry at the trouser leg the more. In trying to kick at the dog Douglas overbalanced and sat down suddenly on the ground, but Flash still held on. A shout of laughter went up from the ring of boys: some of them had suffered in the past from Douglas’s overbearing ways. But a few small girls cried out in alarm. All at once another voice was heard and Mr Donaldson’s head appeared above the crowd.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded. He looked astonished to see Douglas Campbell on the ground and a small dog with his teeth fixed in the cloth of his trouser leg.

  “Come off, Flash! Come here!” Tom commanded.

  Flash gave a final growl and reluctantly let go and returned to Tom.

  “What’s all this about?” Mr Donaldson asked sternly.

  Douglas got up from the ground. “The new boy set his dog on me,” he said.

  “Did you do that?” Mr Donaldson asked Tom. Tom could only shake his head.

  “Then why did the dog attack Douglas Campbell?” Mr Donaldson wanted to know.

  Tom was silent but a voice from the crowd of children spoke up for him. It was Elspeth Young’s.

  “Please, Mr Donaldson, Douglas Campbell hit Tom Stokes first and the dog flew at him because of that.”

  “Oh, and why did you hit him, Douglas?” The headmaster’s voice was level and quiet.

  “Because he – he brought the dog into the playground when I told him to take it out and – and because he was cheeky,” Douglas faltered.

  “And you thought that a sufficient reason for showing a new boy violence?” Mr Donaldson’s voice was like ice. Douglas dropped his eyes and had nothing to say.

  “Why did you bring your dog to school, Tom Stokes?”

  “He–he followed me, sir. If I’d turned back with him I’d have been late. I–I didn’t know what to do with him.” Tom answered truthfully.

  “I see. Well, he had better be put in my kitchen till it’s time for you to go home, but understand, Tom, that it’s against the rules for you to bring animals to school.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You must make sure he stays up at the farm in the future. Come this way.” Mr Donaldson led the way to the kitchen and Tom followed with Flash at his heels.

  “He’ll be all right there, Tom. At dinnertime you can slip along and see him.”

  “Thanks a lot, Mr Donaldson,” Tom said gratefully. He pushed Flash inside and the door was closed firmly.

  Tom found that he was placed at a desk next to Elspeth. She gave him a shy smile.

  “Thanks a lot, Elspeth, for speaking up for me and Flash,” Tom whispered.

  “Attention over there!” Mr Donaldson said sternly and Tom fixed his eye on the map which Mr Donaldson was unrolling.

  “We will begin the geography today with a lesson on the River Thames and London,” Mr Donaldson said in a very matter-of-fact voice, but the corners of his mouth twitched a little. Tom felt a sudden warmth in his heart as he gave Mr Donaldson all his attention.

  Two or three weeks rolled by after that in a kind of routine.

  Every morning Tom rose early and gave Flash his lesson in handling sheep. The dog learned to bring first a small flock and then a larger one between the hurdles. He seemed to have no difficulty now in handling the sheep, driving them steadily towards Tom without upsetting them.

  “He’s doing fine!” Uncle John remarked. “Before long he’ll be ready to learn how to pen the sheep in a sheepfold.”

  Though Flash was obedient to Uncle John, it was to Tom that he gave all his love and loyalty, and it was for Tom’s commands that he listened. He seemed to know which days were Saturdays when he and Tom joined Uncle John and Jeff on the hill tops with the flocks of sheep.

  As Tom took his daily walk to school, the colours of the landscape changed. The purple heather faded to brown but the bracken took on first a golden yellow, then a saffron shade, and finally glowing colours of dark crimson and tawny orange and fading brown. It was Nature’s last glory before the winter set in. Each night the dusk came down a little earlier and Tom had to hurry to give Flash his lesson before it was too dark.

  Now and again, when the market day at Peebles was a long and busy one, Uncle John would stop at the school at the close of the afternoon session and give Tom a lift home, but this only happened occasionally. In the middle of one afternoon when it was not a market day, John Meggetson’s farm wagon drew up at the school. Mr Donaldson saw him advancing across the playground and hastily s
et the class to some reading while he went out to speak with him.

  “Something wrong, Mr Meggetson?”

  “Weel, only in a kind of a way. Could I have wee Elspeth Young out from the class to take her to her home? You see, her mother’s had word by phone today to go to the hospital in Edinburgh to have her leg re-set and she’s likely to be there a few weeks. The wife promised Mrs Young she’d have the wee lassie up at the farm. Jim Young’s taking his wife into Edinburgh today and she’d like to see Elspeth before she goes.”

  “I’ll call her out,” Mr Donaldson said at once. “Do you want Tom too?”

  “No. Elspeth’s mother might want a talk wi’ the child. Tom can come home at the usual time.”

  Mr Donaldson called Elspeth out from her class. Tom wondered if her mother was not well when Elspeth did not return. Judge his surprise when he found Elspeth helping his aunt to set the tea table when he got back to the farm!

  “Hullo!” he exclaimed, delighted to see her.

  “Elspeth’s coming to stay with us for a while until her mother comes out of hospital,” his aunt told him. “Now, you’ll do what you can to make her feel at home, Tom?”

  “Of course I will!” Tom promised. It would be good to have Elspeth for company. He talked a lot about Flash to her at school and she loved to listen.

  On Saturday morning Elspeth gave Aunt Jane a hand while Tom did his usual chore of cleaning out the hen house. In the afternoon, Uncle John and Tom usually took Flash on the hills for his training with the sheep, but this time Tom suggested something new.

  “Do you think we could teach Flash to pen sheep today?” he asked.

  Mr Meggetson hesitated.

  “I thought Elspeth could watch too,” Tom added quickly. “You’d like to see Flash have his lesson, wouldn’t you, Elspeth?”

  “Yes, I would!” Elspeth said eagerly.

  Mr Meggetson gave a smile. “Come on, then! We’ll take Jeff and bring five sheep down to the steading.”

  With the two dogs they brought down the sheep to the field beside the farm. Elspeth had already taken up her position beside the wire fencing to watch. Tom stood by the gate into the farmyard. He whistled for Flash to bring the sheep towards him. Flash seemed a bit surprised not to find Tom standing in his usual place, but he brought the little flock steadily towards the gate.

  Flash brought the sheep neatly up to the gate. Tom moved to the entrance to the sheep fold and held the gate open.

  With a sharp “Wuff!” as if to say he knew what he was about, Flash brought the sheep through the gate and into the farmyard. There they began to scatter and Flash looked worried. He galloped round the sheep, heading them here and there till he had got them into a compact bunch again.

  “In with them, Flash!” Tom pointed his stick at the sheep pen.

  It was as though inspiration came to Flash. He guessed what was required of him. Though the sheep faced about and one tried to escape, he chased it back to the others. Then, step by step, crouching before them and glaring at them, he turned them into the pen. Tom shut the gate quickly on the tiny flock.

  “Good dog, Flash! Well done!” Tom praised him. Flash rolled on the ground with delight. He knew he had done well and Tom was pleased with him. Elspeth added her praise and patted him too.

  “Aye, he’s done weel, right enough, though he’ll need to learn to do the job more quietly and wi’ less fuss,” Uncle John qualified his praise. “But there’s no doubt about it, the dog’s got intelligence above the ordinary.”

  “Please, I’ve got some biscuits in my pocket. May I give him some as a reward?” Elspeth asked.

  Tom hesitated. He looked at his uncle. He knew his views about feeding sheep dogs, but for once Uncle John relented.

  “Maybe just one.” he consented.

  “Just look at him! Isn’t he friendly?” she exclaimed.

  Uncle John gave a slight chuckle. “He’s even licking the smell o’ the biscuit from your hand!”

  Elspeth had started something that Flash found very quick to learn. Whenever Elspeth was present when Tom finished a lesson and he praised Flash, the dog looked eagerly from Tom to Elspeth and soon it became part of the routine that when Tom said “Yes, he can have it,” Elspeth gave him one biscuit.

  “Maybe just one will do him no harm, but no more, mind! And you’ve only to give him one when he’s done his lesson properly. He must know it’s a reward,” Uncle John made the rule.

  Tom began to welcome Elspeth’s quiet presence in the background when he was training Flash. The dog began to look round to see she was there, too. Perhaps the treats had something to do with it, but he seemed to try harder when Elspeth was there.

  Indoors, Elspeth quickly became one of the household. Aunt Jane would find the washing-up done and the vegetables prepared and even the ironing finished and folded.

  “That lassie’s a treasure,” she told her husband. “It’ll seem strange in the house without her when she goes back home.”

  “Ah, weel, ye’ve no call to worry about that yet,” John Meggetson said. “I was speaking wi’ Jim Young the day. He’s working on the top road above Whitecraig and he was telling me that Alison’s doing fine, but it’ll be a long job.”

  “What’s Alison’s loss is our gain, anyway,” Aunt Jane said with philosophy. “Besides, I think Elspeth’s doing Tom a power o’ good. He’s a different laddie from when he came here.”

  “I don’t deny Elspeth’s had a hand in it, but Flash had already started the good work,” Uncle John declared.

  The long walk to and from school seemed shorter in Elspeth’s company. Elspeth knew so much about the wild life of the moorlands that fringed the road; where the peewits nested and the grouse might be found; the names of the moorland flowers; where to look for sticklebacks and trout in the river. In his turn Tom told her about London and the Thames, and she listened fascinated, putting an occasional question.

  It was much better, too, doing his homework alongside Elspeth and checking his results by hers.

  “I doubt Mr Donaldson would hardly approve them comparing their answers in arithmetic,” Uncle John remarked drily to Aunt Jane one night.

  “Och, when they get different answers, then they know one of them is wrong, and so they go through it again together and find where the fault is,” Aunt Jane told him. “That way they’re learning, and if that’s no’ what homework is for, then I’m clean daft! Mr Donaldson’s a sensible man and I’m sure he thinks like me,” she finished complacently. There was no doubt, however, that Tom was taking greater interest in his school work.

  One afternoon, about an hour before school usually closed, Mr Donaldson looked through the window. One of the sudden autumnal fogs that occur among the Border Hills of Scotland was seeping along the valley and beginning to blot out the landscape.

  “You may close your books and put away your exercises.” the headmaster announced. “We shall finish school for this afternoon. There is a mist rising which promises to get much thicker. You are not to linger playing round the school. You must all go straight home.”

  There was a scurry of delight among the pupils at the unexpected early hour of liberation. In a few minutes they were all pouring out of the school gates.

  Tom and Elspeth began the long trudge uphill to Birkhope. Already the mist was beginning to spiral about them in wraith-like figures. The air was clammy and damped their clothing and made elf-locks of Elspeth’s hair. Before long it was difficult even to see the opposite side of the road. The mist seemed to dance round them in dizzying specks. Elspeth peered about her. “We’d better hurry, Tom. The fog’s growing thicker.”

  They pressed on. Only the sound of their feet on the metalled surface told them they were still on the road. Once or twice they strayed off on to the grass verges and had to cast round to find the road again. Their pace grew slower, for they were frightened of stumbling off the road and into the ditch which ran alongside.

  “I don’t like this at all,” Elspeth said, shiveri
ng. “Surely we should have come to the crossroads by now?”

  “Cheer up, Elspeth! It can’t be far away and after that we should soon reach the bridge. Once we’ve crossed the river there are the wire fences to Uncle John’s fields to guide us.” Tom spoke with more confidence than he really felt.

  They stumbled on a few paces more.

  “I think we’re at the crossroads now,” Elspeth said. She crossed to the right-hand side of the road, disappearing from sight. Suddenly she gave a cry of fright. In a panic Tom went after her but could not find her.

  “Elspeth! Where are you?” he cried.

  “Down here, Tom!” She had stumbled off the road and rolled down a bank on to a piece of lower-lying marshy land. Tom gave her a hand up on to the road again. Her shoes and stockings were covered in mud.

  “You’d better hold on to me, Elspeth, in case either of us slips into a ditch again.”

  Elspeth clutched at his arm. It seemed they were not at the crossroads after all, but at a place where the road widened. They wandered along, listening for the sound of their feet to make sure they were still on the road, feeling for the firm foothold. They were never quite sure on which side of the road they were. At last they reached the place where the four hill-roads met. Here they usually took the road to the left which brought them to the bridge across the river. Not far away was the farm road to Birkhope. For a moment they stood uncertainly, then Tom said, “Here’s the road to the left. We’ll soon be at Birkhope now, Elspeth.”

  They trudged along for about a quarter of a mile, the mist pressing against their eyes. The road took a bend to the left. Tom stopped for a moment, bewildered. “I don’t remember that bend in the road. Surely we should have come to the bridge by now?”

  “I can hear water running nearby,” Elspeth said.

  “Then we must be near the river,” Tom said with some relief. He looked on the river as a pointer by which they could find their way to the farm.