"It would seem so," said my father; "it certainly seems the work of
a dog; and yet all the men agree that no dog of such habits exists
near us, where, indeed, dogs are scarce, excepting the shepherds'
collies and the sporting dogs secured in yards. Yet the sheep are
gnawed and bitten, for they show the marks of teeth. Something has
done this, and has torn their bodies wolfishly; but apparently it
has been only to suck the blood, for little or no flesh is gone."
"How strange!" cried several voices. Then some of the gentlemen
remembered to have heard of cases when dogs addicted to sheep-
killing had destroyed whole flocks, as if in sheer wantonness,
scarcely deigning to taste a morsel of each slain wether.
My father shook his head. "I have heard of such cases, too," he
said; "but in this instance I am tempted to think the malice of
some unknown enemy has been at work. The teeth of a dog have been
busy, no doubt, but the poor sheep have been mutilated in a
fantastic manner, as strange as horrible; their hearts, in
especial, have been torn out, and left at some paces off, half-
gnawed.
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