Read Online Lying Dead by Aline Templeton - Free Book Online

knew what thrawn meant.’
        ‘Stubborn, with a bit of perversity thrown in. And I might agree with him,’ Bill admitted. ‘They’re different, you see – probably had to struggle for acceptance in the flock right from the start.
        ‘Here he’s coming now.’
        A silence fell as Findlay Stevenson was announced and came forward to take up his position, the dog, a black-and-white collie with a rakish black patch across one eye, at his knee, staring up into his master’s face.
        Laura looked at Findlay with interest: he was in his late thirties, perhaps, and he was bare-headed so that his dark red hair looked almost black with the rain. She saw him shrug as if to dispel tension, then pause before he sent the dog off on the outrun. Living up to his name, Flash looked like nothing more than a streak of movement, low to the ground, speeding round the very edge of the field.
        Laura had found the trials fascinating to watch. On safari with her ex-husband Brad she’d watched hunting-dogs in Africa do flanking movements just like this and then, as Flash was doing now, dropping to the ground then inching forward, raising one paw and freezing, a step at a time. Over how many tens of thousands of years had that extraordinary relationship between man – or woman – and working dog been developed?
        On a perfectly timed whistle, Flash rose and, as they said, ‘lifted’ the sheep; they moved off smoothly, unflustered, with the black one leading, and earned a round of applause.
        ‘Nice,’ Bill approved. ‘Very nice.’
        The drive went well, gates neatly negotiated. It was only when they came back up to the shedding ring that the dominant ewe began to show a nature as black as her fleece.
        Benefiting from Bill’s instructions, Laura knew that with the handler standing by, the dog was supposed to separate two sheep from the others, within the marked ring, and then control them. ‘In here!’ she heard Fin call, and the dog moved swiftly into a gap in the flock that had opened up. The black sheep, however, was having none of it. She turned back towards the others, yellow eyes defiant, then even made a little rush at the dog, stamping her foot.
        Bill drew in his breath. ‘If the dog gives way, he’s had it. But if he comes on too strong, he’s had it too.’
        But Flash, with encouraging noises from his master, held firm, staring down the sheep with his own steady gaze. The ewe became visibly uncomfortable as he inched forward with relentless authority until she turned and trotted off in the right direction, tossing her head nervously. Laura could almost hear the collective sigh of relief as applause broke out again.
        Penning was the final challenge. The black sheep seemed almost bent on revenge for her humiliation as they were shepherded into position, stamping angrily, breaking away round the side of the pen between man and dog and unsettling the others. A white one followed and then the rest rushed away from the pen to join the rebels.
        ‘It’s like those puzzles where you have to get all the metal balls into the holes at the same time,’ Laura said, though the others hardly heard her.
        ‘He was quick on the drive, so he’s got time in hand,’ Bill muttered, and Marjory seemed almost to be holding her breath.
        Flash had rounded them up again. Findlay had the gate wide open, spreading his arms out and reaching out his crook to cover the biggest area possible.
        The first of the sheep went in, then another, and another. The fourth hesitated on the threshold and then the black one, bringing up the rear, stopped. When she turned, ready to break again, the crowd groaned. At a command from Findlay, Flash, belly to the ground, edged forward again. The ewe stamped. He raised his head, fixing her once more with that steady, unnerving stare. The clash of wills between the animals was all but audible.
        Then she lowered her head,