91 For I had been able to see the details of his 'face and figure.' Every sheep has its own individual characters -- I can at once distinguish it in its carriage of head, the curve of its horns and its coloring; he is as distinct as a human being. While we were examining the sheep Harry this hunter appeared upon the rain. He had bloodshot eyes. They hurt with them on a donkey stooping to pick up a fine two year old ram which he had killed an hour earlier far away beyond us in the uplands. It fitted -- exactly into a series where I had another big ram. Two rams the group would be complete. Poor Harry was hobbling along, just able to walk. He had strained a tendon in his right leg the previous morning that haunted him enduring the most excruciating pain all day. He wanted to stay and help us shear the sheep but I would not let him. We were a long way from camp and it would require all his strength to get back at all.