else. In the struggle Dromas got crowded back and sat down on a hot coal.
He hadn't many clothes on, so he got up very quickly, and the next howl
he gave was not wholly on account of wolves. Only Lydia and Melas stood
their ground beside the fire. Melas waved a burning brand in the air and
shouted at the top of his lungs, "Fools! Rabbits! Don't you know wolves
won't come near a fire?" but nothing soothed the frightened slaves.
Something was coming, and if it wasn't wolves, they thought it was likely
to be a worse creature. They could see two black figures bounding along
in the moonlight, and behind them came a huge dog, barking with all his
might. Bang into the row of cowering slaves they ran, and the biggest
black thing roared "baa," and the little one bleated "maa," right into
Dromas' ear. The "whole pack of wolves" was just the old black ewe and
her little black lamb. Argos was chasing them and when he came tearing
into the circle about the fire and saw the sheep safe with Dromas, he sat
down panting, with his tongue hanging out, and looked very much pleased
with himself. Dromas seized the lamb in his arms.

"It's a fine young ram," he cried, "and it's nothing short of a miracle
that the wolves haven't got it, and its mother too, long before this!'

"I always said that old ewe was bewitched," quavered Lycias. "It's magic,
I say. And the lamb is as black as Erebus too. No good will come of
this!"

"Come, come! We must take them up to the farm-yard at once," said Melas,
"before the old sheep takes it into her head to run away again. Dromas,
you and Argos attend to her, and I'll carry the lamb myself."

"We will all go," said Lydia. "It is time for bed anyway." So the remains
of the feast were gathered up, the fire was put out, and the whole