SEVERAL DAYS after this when Billy was out in the mountains he noticed that it grew suddenly cold and that light flurries of snow began to blow and swirl through the mountain passes. He climbed to the top of a peak whence he could get a good view of the clouds and saw, advancing from the direction of the main range, a terrible black cloud that was hurling snow and sleet on the mountains and valleys as it came.
It took him but a moment to decide what to do, for he knew if the young lambs were caught out in such a severe storm they would be frozen to death. So he turned back to the flock and told them to follow him as quickly as they could and not to stop to take even a mouthful of grass. He led them into the deepest, most sheltered cañon he could find and told them to stand close together so as to keep each other as warm as possible and to be careful to see that the young sheep and lambs were on the inside where it would be the warmest.
Here they stood while the storm raged and blew over and above the cañon, but the sheep were so sheltered that scarcely any snow fell on them, as the force of the wind carried it over. It grew darker and darker and time to go home, but Billy said:
“We will have to stay here all night. It will never do to go out in such a storm onto the open prairie. Half of you would perish with the cold before you got across the valley.”
So there they stayed in their little sheltered nook undisturbed until about midnight, when they were startled by hearing the weird yelping bark of a pack of prairie wolves coming straight down the cañon. This threw the sheep into a terrible panic, for they knew that same pack of wolves only too well; they had made raids on them before and carried off a baby lamb and now and then an old sheep.
Now Billy had never met or even seen a wolf in his life, but he had absolutely no fear of them, as he knew they were too much like dogs to be afraid of. Still he did not know how he would come out fighting a whole pack by himself, and from the sound of their voices it seemed as if there must be at least fifty of them.
“Now all you rams that have horns make a circle around the sheep, and if a wolf tries to get through in order to get at a young sheep, fight for your lives and theirs and don’t give up and run off. While you do this I will run here and there wherever I think a wolf is most likely to break through your circle and kill them one by one, for I am not afraid of any wolf I ever heard of.”
This stand of Billy’s gave them more courage, but they were so accustomed to turn tail and run at the approach of danger that Billy was afraid they would do so now at the first sight they got of the wolves.
All this time the wolves had been drawing nearer and nearer, until now only the bend of the pass separated them from the flock.
Soon the yellowish light of seven pairs of eyes glared through the blackness. This was met by the fiery red light in Billy Jr.’s eyes. The trembling sheep dared not move nor look up. Not so Billy! His eyes fairly blazed defiance, and with a snort of rage he bounded on the leader of the pack and killed him before he knew what had struck him. Billy was so black the wolves could not see him; all they could see were the red balls of fire that seemed to be here, there, and everywhere, the most deadly balls they had ever come in contact with, for wherever they appeared a wolf lay dead the next moment.
Billy heard a bleat of agony, and looking to where it came from saw a dark object in among the white, and knew that a wolf had broken through the ring he had formed for their protection and the old rams were deserting their post and running away.
“Come back, you cowards!” Billy cried. “You will only be killed if you go out alone.” This brought them to their senses and they closed in once more around the sheep, but left Billy to do all the fighting. This he did with a vengeance and to such good purpose that the wolves commenced to slink away, wondering what kind of a leader these sheep had in the place of old Long Hair.
The next morning Billy Jr. led the sheep home, thinking it would be better for them in the corral than out on the mountains until the weather moderated, for they were not used to such storms in this climate.
When Mr. Wilder saw Billy leading the flock home he went to meet him on Star and said:
“Billy, I was not mistaken in taking you for a born leader. You are worth your weight in gold. But it beats me where you hid yourselves last night, for we looked for you and could not find one of you. And then for you to come back out of such a storm without even a lamb missing is remarkable. I wonder the wolves did not get after you and kill some of the young lambs, even if they did not freeze to death.” And Billy Jr. wondered what he would have said could he see the dead wolves lying in the cañon.
Three days after the dead bodies were found by a man from another ranch when looking for his sheep that had been lost since the night of the storm and, seeing some small flecks of wool sticking to the side of the rocks opposite, he knew why his neighbor’s sheep had not been killed and his had. He immediately rode over and told Mr. Wilder, who rode back to see where Billy had fought his brave battle and saved so many lives. From that day on Billy was the hero he deserved to be and no amount of money could have bought him.
As the sheep stayed in the corral the next day after the storm, Billy thought he would try and find Star and have a talk with him. So he jumped the low wall of the corral and soon found his friend in the stable-yard chewing some corn husks.
“Hello, Billy Jr.! I am glad to see you,” said Star. “I have not laid eyes on you for ages and I am anxious to learn what you think of our Western country by this time.”
“Oh, I think it is good enough as far as the country goes for any one who likes it, but I am tired of it and am going back to civilization.”
“What, tired of it already, and with all the honors you have had heaped upon you!” said Star.
“Yes. I don’t like buffalo grass as a steady diet nor dirty cañon water to drink. And those sheep are altogether too stupid to suit me. I would rather live in a city; and that is what I have come to see you about. I am not ready to go home yet, but I can’t make up my mind whether to go to old Mexico or California.”
“Hear him talk, will you! He talks of going to old Mexico or California as I would of going into the next pasture. But, my dear fellow, how do you expect to get there? and are you aware that both of these places are hundreds of miles from here?” said Star.
“Yes, I know they are, but what of that? If I want to go there I can get there. All I have to do is to wish for a thing hard enough and I get it. You know I made up my mind to come West, and here I am.”
“Yes, you are a plucky fellow, and I half believe that if we had not brought you, you would have carried out your threat of walking here,” said Star.
“You are right, I should,” said Billy Jr.
“Well, if you want my advice, I would go to old Mexico, as I think there would be more of interest there for you than in California.”
“I don’t know whether to follow the railroad tracks or start across country.”
“Oh, Billy! You will be the death of me, the way you talk of our great distances as if they were only a few miles,” said Star.
“Here comes the man to chase me back to the corral and I suppose he is wondering how I ever got out. I want to thank you for your kindness to me and to tell you how much I have enjoyed your friendship, which I hope nothing will ever break. I trust we will meet again in the East some day. Good luck to you and good-bye for a time. When I see you again I will have something of interest to tell you. Good-bye again,” and Billy bounded over the fence as the man walked in the gate to chase him out, while Star whinnied his good-bye.