The Sheep-Pig by Dick King-Smith Read Free Book Online

clearly that the boss was pointing the black shiny tube at him, and he sat down again and waited, supposing that perhaps it was some machine for giving out food and that some quite unexpected surprise would come out of its two small round mouths, held now quite close to his face.
     
    At that instant Mrs Hogget's voice sounded across the yard, calling her husband's name from the open kitchen window. He frowned, lowered the shiny tube, and poked his head around the stable door.
     
    "Oh there you are!" called Mrs Hogget. "What dost think then, that was the police that was, they'm ringing every farmer in the district to warn 'em, there's sheep-worrying dogs about, they killed six sheep t'other side of the valley only last night, they bin seen they have, two of 'em 'tis, a big black un and a little brown un, they say to shoot 'em on sight if you do see 'em, you better get back up the hill and make sure ours is all right, d'you want me to fetch your gun?"
     
    "No," said Farmer Hogget. "It's all right," he said.
     
    He waited till his wife had shut the window and disappeared, and then he walked out into the sunlight with Babe following.
     
    "Sit, Pig," he said, but now his voice was warm and kindly again.
     
    He looked closely at the trusting face turned up to his, and saw, sticking to the side of Babe's mouth, some hairs, some black hairs, and a few brown ones too.
     
    He shook his head in wonder, and that slow grin spread over his face.
     
    "I reckon you gave them summat to worry about," he said, and he broke the gun and took out the cartridges. Meanwhile Fly, standing guard up in the far field, was terribly agitated. She knew of course that some dogs will attack sheep, sometimes even the very dogs trained to look after them, but surely not her sheep-pig? Surely Babe could not have done such a thing? Yet there he had been at the centre of that scene of chaos, bloodstained and standing over the dead ewe! What would the boss do to him, what perhaps had he already done? Yet she could not leave these fools to find out.
     
    At least though, she suddenly realised, they could tell her what had happened, if the shock hadn't driven what little sense they had out of their stupid heads. Never before in her long life had Fly sunk to engaging a sheep in conversation. They were there to be ordered about, like soldiers, and, like soldiers, never to answer back. She approached the nearest one, with distaste, and it promptly backed away from her.
     
    "Stand still, fool!" she barked. "And tell me who chased you. Who killed that old one?"
     
    "Wolf," said the sheep automatically.
     
    Fly growled with annoyance. Was that the only word the halfwits knew? She put the question differently.
     
    "Was it the pig that chased you? Was it Babe?" she said.
     
    "Ba-a-a-a-abe!" bleated the sheep eagerly.
     
    "What does that mean, bonehead?" barked Fly. "Was it or wasn't it?"
     
    "Wolf," said the sheep.
     
    Somehow Fly controlled her anger at the creature's stupidity. I must know what happened, she thought. Babe's always talking about being polite to these woolly idiots. I'll have to try it. I must know. She took a deep breath.
     
    "Please ..." she said. The sheep, which had begun to graze, raised its head sharply and stared at her with an expression of total amazement.
     
    "Say that agai-ai-ai-ain," it said, and a number of others, overhearing, moved towards the collie.
     
    "Please," said Fly, swallowing hard, "could you be kind enough to tell me ...."
     
    "Hark!" interrupted the first sheep. "Hark! Ha-a-a-a-ark!" whereupon the whole flock ran and gathered round. They stood in silence, every eye fixed wonderingly on her, every mouth hanging open. nincompoops! thought Fly. Just when I wanted to ask one quietly the whole fat-headed lot come round. But I must know. I must know the truth about my Babe, however terrible it is.
     
    "Please," she said once more in a voice choked with the effort of being humble, "could you be kind enough to tell me