Turn the Morning Lead

During the summer of 2001 I herded a band of two-thousand sheep in the Big Belt Mountains of Montana.  I am working on revising my herder’s journal from that time.

Excerpt from Turn the Morning Lead  

Day X Helena National Forest

Bon jour.  Hundreds of stars still out and I’m packing up the tent and my belongings.  I get back to the trailer and prepare my provisions for the day.  All along I hear the faint distant echo of one of the louder ewe’s bleatings.  The whispering pines.  The panting of Dali and Buddy.

My anxiety is less than yesterdays.  A bit more complacent and seasoned.  The sheep absconded from camp once again last night sometime between midnight and 1 AM.  The sheep took off and not able to stop them I figured I’d wait until this morning to find them again en route towards Mount Edith.  I figured I would see them at the park on the south side of the mountain perhaps a mile from camp.

This morning the sheep made it a bit further and were crossing the ridge which looks over to Sagebrush Hill.  Due west from the meadow where I camped.

I found them and saw I had quite a few and thought, based on the successful cleanup the day before, that I had my band intact.  I checked my markers and realized it wasn’t nearly true.  I had Blue Hair, Front Dot, Socks, Black Sheep, and only III Belle.  The quiet that came when Buddy turned the whole lot at the ridge was telling of what I was missing.  The other Belles.