Chapter XI
Hugh Gaylord had, like all men, experienced some rather violent surprises in his time. They had been coming exceptionally thick and fast since he had come to Smoky Land. His changed attitude toward life and his behavior in regard to the flocks had been amazing experiences in themselves. He had just experienced a rather violent shock on beholding the warlike behavior of Spot. The previous night he had been through the unusual experience of finding the body of a murdered man in a tent. But he suddenly realized that he was facing the most amazing situation of all.
Death, after all, in some manner or other comes to all living creatures. Hugh had no real reason for amazement at that still form in the herder's tent. He was ready to confess he didn't know a great deal about sheep: possibly Spot's episode with the coyote would not have so surprised a more experienced herder. But now he felt as if a number of his preconceived ideas had been violently knocked out of him, and that is always dumbfounding. His camp-tender was not a Mexican, nor yet a laboring man of a certain type, but a girl.
