Location:The Millford road — a day and a half south of Seven Peaks; the old sheepfold
Date/Time:TC1858.03.21 – TC1858.03.23
Walls first, gray against the snow, then the gaps where the gate had been, and the roof had never been.
Wynn Hartley saw the sheepfold from the top of the long rise a little after midday on the second day, and the brown saw it too and put its ears forward, because it was the first thing in half a day that wasn't road or field. It stood on the right of the road where the ground dipped, four walls of stone laid dry, each a little over a man's height, no roof. Below it the dip filled with snow from wall to wall across the road, smooth and blue in the shadow of the fold, and on the far side the road climbed out again and went on south between its own low walls toward the bend and Halbrook.
The road past the sheepfold would be bad. That was what the man had said at the gate on the twelfth; the bag buckled on his saddle, laughing. The twentieth, more like.
