The Warrior Sheep Down Under by Christopher Russell Page A

cruiser that had brought them halfway across the world from Murkton-on-Sea.
    â€œIt’s our Destiny!” they all cried.
    â€œRight,” said Wills, bouncing up and down with excitement. “It’s Destiny !”
    The boat’s engines were rumbling and Skipper Ed was at the top of the gangway, waiting to welcome Miss Alice Barton back on-board. If welcome was the right word. He didn’t notice the five gray, muddy animals on the quayside. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have recognized them as the same creatures he’d last seen swimming for their lives in Auckland harbor.
    The taxi drew to a halt and Alice stepped out. “Good-bye and good riddance,” she said to Trevor as she hurried past him. She smiled at Shelly. “I presume you have something better in Brisbane?”
    â€œI’ve got Norman,” Shelly said. “Want to see a pic?”
    â€œNo time,” said Alice, who was now at the bottom of the gangway. “Quickly, Deidre.”
    â€œYes, Miss Barton, I’m coming.”
    Alice bustled up the gangway in a cloud of expensive perfume tinged with bad egg. “Good evening, Captain Ted.” She beamed at the skipper. “I have to be in Brisbane as soon as possible. I’m sure you won’t let me down.”
    â€œEd…” muttered Ed. “The name’s Ed.” But Alice didn’t hear. Ed signaled his crewmen to cast off the mooring ropes, while his employer leaned on the rail, looking down at the quayside.
    â€œGood-bye, bungee jumps and rafts and mud,” she whispered with satisfaction. “And good-bye, shee…” The word became briefly strangled in her throat. She was watching five gray blobs hurrying toward the gangway. “Sheep!” she gasped.
    But at the last moment, the gangway was trundled ashore. Destiny began to move. A satisfying gap opened between the boat and the quayside, and the sheep were steadily left behind, stranded. Alice watched them as they stood in a forlorn huddle, staring after the boat, bleating sadly.
    â€œFarewell!” she cried. “And may we never meet again!”
    The warriors saw her standing by the rail. They saw the kisses she blew and her lovely smile, but they couldn’t hear a word she said because of a long blast on Destiny ’s horn.
    â€œI’m sorry, guys,” said Oxo, dropping his head. “I should’ve butted our way on. I didn’t know it was going to move so soon.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault, dear.” Sal was trying to be brave. “Something will turn up. The Songs of the Fleece are never—”
    They all smelled dog at the same moment. And heard a man shouting behind them.
    â€œWhat’s this mob doing loose? Bring ’em on, Gem. Come by! Come by!”
    The next moment, the sheep dog was upon the startled warriors, yapping and yelping and driving them away from Destiny toward a much bigger boat, a large cargo ship, moored farther along the quay.
    The man whistled urgently at the dog and, to escape its snapping teeth, the warriors had no choice. There was only one place to run. They galloped up the wide ramp into the cargo ship’s hold.
    An iron gate clanged shut behind them.

19
The Chosen Few
    The warriors huddled together, their bodies shaking, their heads spinning.
    The man with the dog had gone. That was good. There was a man here in the ship but he didn’t have a dog. That was even better.
    And there were sheep.
    One moment the Eppingham rare breeds had been watching their fairy godtingy sail away. The next they were trapped in a ship with a bunch of strangers.
    â€œGuys. Do us a favor, will ya?” Stay down that end. You stink like a sheep-shearer’s vest.”
    It was a large ram speaking on behalf of the other twenty or so ovines. They were all backing away from the warriors, wrinkling their noses.
    â€œNo offense,” the ram added.
    â€œNone taken,” said Oxo, standing