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I wonder… would the mythic heroes of ancient Greece or Rome or America have given their deaths to save their brethren? I met Whistler in the seaside village of Mezkor, on the western coast of the supercontinent.
There was nothing mysterious about why Deepspace Development Corporation had been so eager to send a survey team. Yet another reason I am a cynic: cynicism provides a convenient facade for cowardice to hide behind.
On the morning the trouble started, we were walking a familiar stretch of beach near the village: sand glistening like snow, sun shining down so hot and bright that the ocean sparkled like a molten mirror. Synobians looked remarkably humanoid, considering the vagaries of evolution: two arms, two legs, bipedal gait.
Riddles within riddles… or so it seemed, after the translator finished tying his meaning into knots. After a long day of misunderstanding Whistler in ways variously novel and familiar, I sought the only solace available on a remote survey mission: a fistful of aspirin and a bottle of synthetic scotch.
Dexter pulled the orb from my shaking hands, teeth gleaming inside a dark tangle of moustache and beard. I stowed the ghost stones in back of the skimmer - under Whistler's careful scrutiny - then steered us in the direction he pointed: over the forest, toward the cliffs that ran along the coast north of A Camp.
Hordes of insectile creatures poured from the mound, swarmed over Krysta's body in wriggling profusion. We dragged our macabre cargo through the forest despite the moonless night, our path lit by the eerie glow of luminescent fungi. I programmed the medibots as best I could to recognize the offending organs, then injected them into Whistler's neck. I passed my vigil leaning against the trunk of a mushroom fern, listening to a symphony of unseen creatures prowl the alien night. I have since often pondered what life was like for Lazarus after the world moved on to other miracles. Dexter Conley emerged from the shadows beneath the cliffs, followed by a younger man: Paul Killian, the rookie supervisor Jenny Margolis had left in charge.
Dexter waded out into the tide, stomping and flailing and cursing in the area where Krysta's stone had disappeared. A glistening island of silver flesh breached the sea behind him, rising up and up, like a mountain spawned by the titanic collision of undersea continents. We've learned a great deal since Dexter - may he roast in Hell - pointed us in the right direction. As well as being great fun, these classes are designed to support your child in developing essential musical and social skills, whilst giving the whole family lots of new ideas for songs and musical games to sing and play at home.
Tickets MUST be purchased in advance from the Ticket Office or online (available up to one hour before the start time). Free lunchtime gigs at Sage Gateshead, performed by students on our higher education degree courses. General Info: Free lunchtime gigs at Sage Gateshead, performed by students on our higher education degree courses. Soultown Funk is made up from a range of first, second and third year BA Community Music students.
BABMUS is a 10 piece band made up of students from the BA and BMus courses at Sage Gateshead. The performance will feature a selection of traditional music from Northumberland and the Borders featuring a special new composition for Northumberland National Park. Evoke memories of your favourite settings; step back in time to ancient rituals of the past and take some time to enjoy an inspiring journey through the mythical Northumbrian landscape. Roy Ayers started out as a solid hard bop musician, but he quickly upped the soul and disco elements of his sound, and his sophisticated music became an uptown pop staple of disco-era black America. His work is also widely sampled by American hip-hop producers, and his juicy crossover albums are now as widely available as his soul jazz efforts should be. Ayers has earned his place in pop history as one of the few modern jazz musicians who blueprinted a pop sound with his band, not with his instrument.
A community wind band, now in its 26th year, that plays a wide range of music and performs around ten concerts every year in the North East with occasional concert tours abroad. Krocodile Klub has been running since 1998, providing a friendly atmosphere where people with learning disabilities and their friends can make new friends, meet up with old ones, hear great music, dance, chill and perform on open mic. Gateshead Happy Hour: For The Late Shows 2016, Gateshead venues will be open from 6pm so you can fit even more in to your evening. For The Late Shows 2016, Gateshead venues will be open from 6pm so you can fit even more in to your evening and there’s loads going on at Gateshead Old Town Hall! Join artist and choreographer Apple Yang as she harnesses the complexities of individual and collective experience, using movement and gesture to articulate the most intimate of landscapes, in the imaginary place where East meets West. Sage Gateshead musician Dave Wood will be our compere for the night and if you fancy a go, just let him know, or if you prefer, just sit back and enjoy the show. Join us on an exploration of the old Victorian police cells and assist in the creation of a large-scale installation. It will be hard to come across an Albums of 2015 list that does not include Father John Misty's sophomore album 'I Love You, Honeybear'. It will be hard to come across an Albums of 2015 list that does not include Father John Misty?s sophomore album I Love You, Honeybear.
As a live outfit, Father John Misty tours with a six-piece band meaning that songs like The Ideal Husband, I?m Writing a Novel and title track, I Love You, Honeybear get the treatment they deserve, sounding as big live as they do on record. Father John Misty recently unveiled a hilariously meta new video for The Night Josh Tillman Came To Our Apartment, one of the many standouts from I Love You, Honeybear.
2015 was a breathless year for Bella Hardy which saw the release of her seventh solo album, With The Dawn, to great critical acclaim.
In May 2016 Bella heads out for a small selection of very special, final, With The Dawn shows, performing with her five piece band, formed specifically to capture this stunning album in a live setting. A list of songs to choose from is available here, or just bring your voice along on the night and join in with our elegant hostesses. Richard Strauss wrote of Elgar?s renowned variations ?here for the first time is an English composer who has something to say?. Chris Wood is an uncompromising writer whose music reveals his love for the un-official history of the English speaking people. Chris Wood is an uncompromising songwriter whose music reveals his love for the un-official history of the English speaking people.
A multiple winner of BBC Folk Awards, Chris has toured with Joan Armatrading and recorded four solo albums to great acclaim. Welcoming and sociable groups singing a wide-ranging mix of repertoire in parts to suit any level using tutors from Sage Gateshead but in venues around the region.
Centrally located just off Front Street, close to the town centre bus station and nearby car parks. After an incredible six months, Frances prepares to release new single Borrowed Time, impacting on Capitol Records this January 22nd. Written with Howard Lawrence from Disclosure in his garden studio at home in London, Borrowed Time is a special collaboration from the 22-year-old soulstress that sees her trademark gorgeous silky vocals and emotive minimal piano chords twist and wrap around an explosive, glittery chorus that?s sure to win the hearts of fans and new listeners alike.
With a much in-demand first headline tour (including three sold-out London dates), a support tour with James Bay in the States and a memorable BBC Radio 1 Live Lounge under her belt, this British crooner is quickly cementing her reputation as the next British voice to be heard across the globe. Have fun singing a different opera each term in a friendly, relaxed and creative atmosphere. For anyone who would benefit from a boost in confidence, self-esteem and the chance to meet new people. Fronted by Rachel Hamer, a powerful and emotive singer from Whitley Bay, the band sets the backdrop into which Rachel seamlessly blends to create their moving and intricate sound.
This concert will be packed with other gems including village favourites, the Stocksfield Stompers. Any young performers of traditional music, song or dance wishing to get involved and participate in Hexham Gathering should contact us for more information. The opening notes of Mozart?s Symphony No.40 adorn the Classical Hall of Fame, with its unforgettable and sinuous gestures.
Ruth Ball, Kevin Lees and Paul Knox are a sparkling fiddle trio, rooted in Northumbrian and Scottish dance music and with a surprise or two up their sleeves.
Time Is A Blind Guide is both the title of *Thomas Str?nen*?s latest album released on ECM Records last year, and the name of his Norwegian-British ensemble.
Described by The Guardian?s John Fordham as ?a fascinating jazz crossover? the music brings together influences from jazz, contemporary classical and folk, into a mesmerizing world of depth, beautiful melodies and enchanting rhythms which themselves owe much to the influence of Gamelan and West African music on Thomas in his formative years whilst studying at Trondheim Conservatory. Songs, dancing and tunes throughout Hexham with outdoor performances from a huge variety of school and youth groups as well as individual performers. John Rutter's Feel the Spirit - performed by the combined choirs of Alnwick District with Hanna-Liisa Kirchin, mezzo-soprano.
British mezzo soprano Hanna-Liisa Kirchin is a recent alumna of the National Opera Studio (NOS) and currently studies with soprano Nelly Miricioiu. The 2016 season includes an international debut as Fidalma Il Matrimonio Segreto, in a co-production between Dutch National Opera, De Nederlandse Opera and Opera Zuid, and UK debuts as Wowkle La Fanciulla Del West with Grange Park Opera and Ruggiero Alcina with Longborough Festival Opera. Put on your dancing shoes and join us in a giant ceilidh with music from some of the latest young bands around.
Singers of all ages will take to the stage in an attempt to impress a panel of expert judges and move one step closer to being crowned Choir of the Year 2016! After countless hours of research on and about this breed, here is my version of how this wonderful breed came to be.In the early 1800a€™s Scotsman Bruce McKinsey moved his family moved from the cold damp climates of Northern Scotland to the Grampian Hills of Central Scotland. Terran history preaches again and again that the most courageous sacrifice a human being can make is to give his life for the lives of others. The natives seemed to have no use for the interior, and that was exactly the part of the planet for which DDC Management lusted. The bloody thing still could not untangle the spaghetti of Synobian grammar; its lexicon remained limited and imprecise.
Slick salamander skin buried beneath a carpet of symbiotic sproutlings that drew nutrients from dead epidermal cells in exchange for protecting their host from the relentless sun.
We stood in silence, watching some of Whistler's fellow villagers frolic in the surf a few hundred meters from shore.
At first glance, it looked like the biggest pearl I had ever seen: twenty centimeters across, shimmering with nacreous luster. I went straight to my berth and collapsed on the bunk, exhausted to the marrow, yet - as pathetic as it sounds - I was afraid to sleep.


Dexter fidgeted beside Jenny while three members of her team trained laser pistols on the Synobians. An area we had scrupulously avoided, since Whistler made it clear from the first days of contact that it contained hallowed ground. Dexter - and whoever had helped him sabotage the skimmer, a feat which bespoke a technical expertise far beyond his depth - would be waiting. I tried to analyze her condition with the medikit, but Synobian physiology did not lend itself to analysis with human medical tools. We brought her to a clearing with a large earthen mound near its center, at least two meters in diameter.
I could barely see what lay beneath the mass of chitinous scavengers… and still, I saw too much. He probably meant what he said, but the substances used to erase memories were very unpredictable.
Its lower ring of eyes fixed on the tiny human floating beneath them as immense jaws parted, as saliva mixed with brine cascaded in a dozen waterfalls between rows of spiny teeth.
He would not let Killian and me bundle him into the skimmer until we had finished what we came to do. I wonder, as I brood over this final entry in my mission log, if the Saviors immortalized by history are created by actions, or events, or both.
Performing a variety of material, focusing specifically around the genres of Motown, Soul and Funk, they have produced their own original material as well as adapting pre-existing pieces to suit this ensemble.
The activities support your baby?s development through music and movement, and can easily be used at home. If you?d like to try a new genre or something a little more challenging, this is the place for you to develop and improve your skills. It conjures up images of seasoned older players that have been touched with a rare gift, and whose talent has been salted through the onslaught of years in the music business. These groups are designed to help you to conquer your fears as well as develop basic skills and technique so that you can quickly take your musicmaking to the next level. These classes work as direct progression from our Absolute Beginner classes and are for people who can already play a little. There will be hourly printmaking demonstrations inspired by natural forms with printmaker Cath Walshaw. Father John Misty, also known as Josh Tillman, wrote and recorded the album in his hometown of Los Angeles. Tillman, he joined Fleet Foxes as drummer before releasing his debut album as Father John Misty in 2012, Fear Fun. It also gives Tillman the freedom to entertain, diving around the stage, ensuring he has the audience in the palm of his hand. A summer of opening appearances across the UK and Ireland for Grammy Award winning Mary Chapin Carpenter was topped off by a main stage performance at the prestigious Cambridge Folk Festival and from there followed a fantastic headlining tour in the autumn. The final concert of the series, John Wilson explores the English music revolution at the dawn of the 20th century, with Bax?s panoramic symphonic poem and Walton?s shimmering concerto. We were able to create something that stretched me and introduced me to new ways I can use my voice and my sound. Experienced tutors and talented musicians will support participants in a relaxed, fun and friendly environment.
The sessions focus on performance skills, having fun, learning by ear and working together. Mendelssohn?s concerto, with its rhapsodic violin lines and clear fastidious craftsmanship, has been a calling card for virtuosos since its premiere. Mohsen, with Hayley Keenan on fiddle and Craig Irving on guitar utilise their strong individual backgrounds in Irish and Scottish music to create a hugely energetic sound. On stage rapport leads to lots of humour amid the natural, fluid and inventive fiddle arrangements.
Alongside Str?nen the group features leading UK musicians, pianist Kit Downes and cellist Lucy Railton, alongside Norwegian violinist H?kon Aase and bassist Ole Morten V?gan. It uses tunes in traditional styles such as jigs, slow airs and hornpipes to create an intense, rich musical tapestry. There is something for all musical tastes from classical to contemporary, and audience members will also be invited to join in with the choirs in a big sing at the end of each session.
Aside from one true continent and a smattering of volcanic islands, the sea covered everything, from fathomless trenches to the shallows above submerged continental plates that had drowned eons before the first Synobian drew breath. Central mountain ranges concealed a geologic treasure trove: gold, silver, platinum, copper, juicy veins of high-grade ore. Several clung to the massive dorsal ridge of a trylvol: a whale-like creature with half a dozen eyes completely circling its swollen cranium, reminiscent of a beluga with an overactive pituitary. I can't figure out what I'm dealing with… ancestor worship, afterlife mythology, tribal gods, animism? Sits back there in civilization, with his giga-buck salary, designer drugs, designer women…. I saw no choice but to continue, relying on the cover of the forest and Whistler's home field advantage. Two glandular organs on either side of her neck were pumping large doses of an unfamiliar hormone into her system. I lurched into the protective embrace of the forest, following Whistler as quickly as my trembling legs could manage. As we followed the thunderous call of the ocean, I saw the misery in Whistler's eyes and wondered whether I had saved him or condemned him to a fate more tragic than I could fathom. Below us, beach stretched to the north and south, undulating with the coastline like an albino serpent. I prayed silently with all my might that he would not find it, that at least Whistler might die with that small measure of consolation. He shrilled a song of victory and vengeance, a sound so giddy with emotion it made my skin crawl. Whistler lay stubbornly bleeding in the sand while we unworthy humans threw the rest of the ghost stones into the sea. Will trylvols someday gather - far beyond the sight of land - to sing their haunting tributes to the child who gave everything to protect their aggregated souls from damnation? What Dan Patlansky can do with a six-string Fender Stratocaster at the age of 30, most critically acclaimed guitarists will never quite achieve in a lifetime.
Artists will also be on hand to talk about their working processes, so pop along to participate and purchase works of art from locally based artists. A love story of sorts, each of the ten songs tells the story of a man battling his own past to reconcile his future, talking of ex-lovers, regrets, fears and the terrifying force of love. His writing has been said to share the same timeless quality as Richard Thompson at his best. After spending time together working the sheep in the fields and watching how McKinseya€™s dogs worked the livestock, Alexander eventually acquired a female Scottish Colley from Bruce and named her Flora.
He also ran the kitchen - easy duty, since the meals practically prepared themselves - and served as unofficial bartender.
How's he expect you to reason with a walking compost heap?" I felt my temper smoldering, fed by the scotch in my belly, but I was too exhausted to give Dexter a lecture on universal tolerance.
Me, it just seemed a little spooky, but Johnson in Precious Metals recycled his lunch after thirty seconds, tops. Laser burns had stripped away sproutlings from her abdomen, leaving charred patches that seeped purplish fluid. I caught up with him near our encampment, relieved that we would soon be on our way, putting kilometers between ourselves and that wretched stretch of woods.
The bones did not just glisten: they shone in the twilight as if they had been carved from mother-of-pearl. Waves thundered against the sand, foaming and bubbling as they slipped back into the cerulean embrace of the sea. The trylvol writhed in surf too shallow to support its bulk, a great fleshy tanker run aground. A release of hormones triggers a pupal stage: the body dies while the skull seals around a brain that is undergoing drastic chemical and structural changes. The organs in his neck were the harbingers of change, secreting the hormone to initiate his glorious transfiguration.
He has warned the trylvols about us: what we have come for, and what we may take if we are not stopped. His headaches grow worse as the brain imprisoned in his skull presses out against the shell of an egg that will never hatch….
Blurry images paraded past my eyes: jagged cliffs, thundering seascapes, jungles bursting with flora I could not name.
The bastards who pump us through i-space to make their fortunes owe us a lot more than a little scavenging on the side!
I knelt beside Whistler and activated the translator, wondering if Dexter's glare would burn a hole in the back of my head. When I asked Whistler, he indicated that they were vital to her welfare, and I knew with numb certainty that random tinkering on my part could only make matters worse. I could only follow Whistler with my eyes as he approached the naked skeleton of his brood sister. Blood oozed from the blackened stump like blueberry syrup to stain the sand a deep burgundy. Dexter swam farther from shore, dove, let out a whoop as he broke the surface with a shimmering oval in one hand.
Trylvol digestive enzymes weaken the shell sufficiently for the metamorphosed brain to emerge, wend its way through the trylvol's sinus passages, and assume its rightful place.
He knew I could not save the rest of his brood siblings without his help, so he had me destroy his only chance to join them.
Perhaps that explained Mystery Number One: villages ringed the coast of the supercontinent, but we had yet to locate one more than a hundred kilometers inland.
An electric tingle traveled up my arms and down my spine, rising in intensity, pulsing like the beat of some invisible heart. You may have more degrees than the average stellar core… but out here, you're still a grunt. He pulled out one of the two orbs nestled within and stroked its surface with the reverence of a temple acolyte.
For just an instant, at the edge of the clearing, I paused to look back at our fallen comrade.


He took one step toward Dexter, stone held out like a child slaughtered to appease an evil god. Many brains assemble in the massive cranial cavity of a single host: five trylvols hold the majority of clan Mezkor. A thousand shattered memories fought to assemble a consciousness that belonged to someone else. He wandered onto the beach with the reverent steps of a pilgrim who has finally reached the holy shrine. They will sell DDC those precious rights to the minerals locked beneath the skin of the supercontinent.
We were close now to whatever sacred place Whistler had been guiding us; I could hear the muffled roar of the ocean in the distance, could smell its briny tang. He stared at the immense wake of the diving trylvol, and something collapsed inside him… something that had been waiting for one more little push. As I flailed away in horror, one emotion dogged my escape after all the rest had evanesced into oblivion. Patches of its bony surface - especially those in areas where no bone had any right to be - bore the unmistakable sheen of fresh growth. Whistler gazed up at me with large, liquid eyes that would have looked haunted on any creature's face. The ghost stone catapulted out over the churning foam and splashed into the surf at least ten meters from shore. But those rights will be contingent on an irrevocable ban against exploitation of the ocean. Finally I began to understand: he wanted me to remove the strange organs at the sides of his neck. There isna€™t any information as to the demise of Alexander, but he was well into his 80's at this time. This pup would come to be known as "Jet", a black pup with a faint line of white up his face, a white chest and socks.
Both theseA lines worked from the head and didn't have the a€?loose eyeda€? working style of the traditional Collies.If you look at the picture of the Basque Sheepherder, taken at the turn of the century, you can see the resemblance of our modern day McNab in the Black and white dog in the back on the right side. Among Scottish flocks he is the pride of Scottish owners, and is valued, both in the Old World and the New, as one of the best aids money can procure. Here even, in far California, there is one ranch, lying high on the breezy mountains and low in the grassy dells, that for years has relied upon the help given by imported collies and their offspring, and it is of the work these bright dogs do that this article is written.For the history of the collie one must look elsewhere than in a brief magazine sketch.
Many wise dogs have journeyed far by land and sea to race over the rugged hills after the nimble sheep, which in these mountain wilds give fleet defiance to the would-be-gatherer. No one but a real Scotch shepherd can train these dogs to the perfection they attain among Scottish flocks under constant supervision. Descended from long generations of workers the puppies take actively to business, and practice amusing tactics of herding on the farm poultry while still too young to be initiated into the graver cares of life; and at first sight of a band of sheep will usually make some move that denotes the shepherd strain. Literally is it true of the collie, Ye cannot serve two masters ; his allegiance must be given to but one, or the valuable animal becomes worthless for the work that nature and training have given him to do. The breeze is sweet with bloom, and the sunlight falls, a flood of golden glory, over the lavish green of April meadow, as we take the upward trail, a woodland path that rises steeply under the shadow of the Peak, giving but glimpses of the valley home below, and winding through still shadows in the absolute silence of Natures own domains. Higher we go, and onward, past an old stone cabin, a picturesque bit of ruin in the lap of spring.
As we come out from the woods with the Peak still above us, send a swift glance northward, where Sanhedrim and the northern mountains still are capped in glittering snow, rising sharply from green valleys to the sunny sky, their sparkling peaks the only hint of winter in all this summerland. Off he dashes up the hill, makes a wide circle past a dozen ewes, and as they bolt up hill heads them, turns, and deftly drives them down.
Their lambs lie asleep in the warm sun or frolic together on the hillside, bright bits of movement white against the green. A motion of the hand directs the alert dogs, and they join the two bands and send them steadily along the trail. Two ewes and a lamb go running to the side.Here, Pete!The dog dashes quickly across a little hill, the bright drops sparkling on his black coat as he passes the sheep and turns them.
Circling in front again, the dog overtakes, turns them, follows, and turns again, and patiently works them along till his troublesome charges are safely among their fellows. If sent to hurry the little flock, he dashes at the hindmost, barking his orders.Here the master whistles Fred to the right.
Nothing is visible to him, but off scurries the obedient dog, barking frantically, circles, and stops.
Off he dashes, perhaps fifty feet or so ahead, and dropping to the ground with nose between his paws, he waits till the flock is close upon him ; then he springs up and trots ahead again, and once more quietly waits their coming.Fred! The master walks away, and Fred, understanding perfectly that he must keep the flock, swiftly circles round them and brings them to a halt.
Here, alone, he holds them, keeping them closely together while Peter and the master gather the other side of the hill, and return two hours later to find the sheep quietly grazing and Fred lying as quietly watching them.Two ewes wander a little too far. Scarcely rising to his feet, the dog slips quietly through the grass beside them, and they turn and slowly rejoin the band, cropping as they go. Fred trots quietly around his charges, sees that all are safe, then drops down again, watching them ceaselessly with shining eyes, and not a ewe or lamb is missing when the returning master adds his flock.Steadily we climb, through the golden afternoon. Occasionally shy deer peer through the brush, the warm air is sweet with the breath of bloom, and a distant eagle screams as he sweeps in stately circles over the Peak. The flocks number in the hundreds as we finally reach the summit, where we are met by the shepherd and Tweed, with another band. In go the dogs, and send the sheep briskly down the trail, while Peter, circling far behind of his own accord, often brings in a stray ewe that has slyly dropped out.Yonder is a place where the whole band broke away years ago, and never have forgotten it, but neither have the dogs.
With a fierce challenge the collies vigorously meet the flying band, and force them back to the trail more roughly than we have seen them do yet, in punishment, perhaps, for their presumption and past sins.
She has bolted away several times, and given Peter much trouble to bring her in ; but his Scotch is up, as she dashes away again.
He springs in before her, and with a dexterous hoist of his body sends her tumbling end over end, which is his own cure for these troublesome bolters, and was never known to fail. As if shot from a cannon, the ewe bangs against him, and over goes Tweed, howling rolling over and over, down the steep hillside, all four feet kicking at once, in angry protest as they come uppermost ; and his chap-fallen expression, as he struggles to his feet and slinks away, shows that Tweed is both a sadder and a wiser dog.
Though all are trained alike in a general way, two collies differ as widely in characteristic methods of work as two men,each possessing a distinct individuality of his own.Ah! After much hard running the flock is finally under control, but a bunch of lambs has become separated in the confusion, and after circling helplessly, stampedes in wild disorder.
Peter tries his wise best to work the foolish little things back, vainly attempting to head them off.but they jump over him, halfa-dozen in succession, ears and tails flapping wildly as they clear his broad back.
While the master separates the sheep, let us sit on this sunny hillside and watch the collies as they circle round the running lambs.
They never bark at them as they would at old sheep, but merely follow and slowly check them by degrees. The little things are both obstinate and foolish, and at first pay no attention to the quiet collies that trot patiently round and round, quietly gather them together, and at last stop their wilr1 run.
Slowly, and with marvelous patience they are turned, jumping over each other, then over the dogs, and it seems a hopeless task even to attempt to take them the half-mile to the corral, but in a couple of hours time Fred and Peter come slowly up to the gate with them, not a lamb hurt or missing, and their first acquaintance made with these gentle protectors and friends. Peter is a favorite, bright even beyond the ordinary collie, his first appearance in the field showing a canine reason.
Then he suddenly spied a huge rock; straight for it he went, and springing into sight upon its top, he stood a moment, one paw uplifted, ears up and nose a-quiver, a pretty picture, gave two quick glances, and was down and with the sheep again, and quietly drove them straight across the field to the hidden gate. Often, till he learned the hills, did he leave the sheep,, and on some high point literally take his bearings, to return to his charge and take them down the better way, justifying his masters assertion that surely the line between reason and instinct is closely drawn in the Scotch collie. He was a ready match for a certain obstinate old ram, that always fought the dogs and delayed their work ; till at last when sent for the flock Peter went first for this old enemy, and there, nose to nose, both heads bobbing excitedly, he would angrily bark and growl, till the conquered ram at last would make a sudden bolt, and the victorious Peter calmly gather in the flock.
A most conscientious dog, his work was done faithfully and well till years disabled him; but Fred, more alert to praise, did best were strangers present, when he abounded in bright ways and brilliant work, done with a comically conscious air of superior excellence. The young man pondered a little, then to the country saddler he went and ordered made from his description little leather shoes. He took to them kindly, like the wise dog he was, wore them gratefully, and after a long days run through flying seed, off would come the shoes, leaving his feet sound and well.
Meekly he would let his shoes be donned, regarding his master quizzically the while, and wear them complacently enough in view, but let him be sent for sheep a little out of sight, a little delay would be noticed, then out from behind some bushy clump or sheltering rock Fred would gayly emerge, with many gambols to divert the eye.
Clyde closely resembles Fred, whose days are past; and till the present puppy, tiny Tweed, grows to working age, Clyde is the mainstay of the gathering. Help fulfills his name on other portions of the large range ; but either are true types of the working collie, willing and faithful helpers till years disable them.
Either one is sent for sheep entirely out of sight in a large field, and patiently hunts till he finds them, then brings them in alone ; and Gyps mother, Bessie, brings in the entire flock from her owners small range just as readily as from the field. They brought with them their stock dogs, the Fox Shepard, the origin not known, but have survived in Scotland for centuries. McNab returned to the Grampian Hills in Scotland for the sole purpose of getting some of the dogs he was used to working. He brought Peter back with him, leaving Fred to have his training completed, and he was later sent to America. These two dogs were bred to select Shepard females of the Spanish origin, which were brought to this country by the Basque sheepherders, and that cross was called the McNab Shepherds because Mr.
He named this pup Jet he was black with a faint white line up his face, a white chest and a small amount of white on his feet. Some of these dogs will have a wider strip up the face (Bentley Stripe) and a ring around the neck, there are also instances of pups with brown on their face and legs but will still be mostly black.
Alexander McNab and his family raised sheep in Scotland, but longed for a warmer climate and enticed by the news of the West, set out across the Atlantic to America.
McNab was not satisfied with the type of working dogs he found locally, and in 1885 he returned to Scotland for the sole purpose of importing the type of dog(s) he had been accustomed to working with. It was said that these two male dogs were bred to female dogs of Spanish origin, which were brought to this country by the Basque sheep herders.
I have searched (and continue to search) to find out the type of dog the Basque may have brought with them to California, and my findings were contradicting.



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