And now it was only four days before he would be back in that same village.

He was excited, and at the same time uneasy: maybe the girl had already forgotten him.

Lots of shepherds passed through, selling their wool.

"It doesn't matter," he said to his sheep.

"I know other girls in other places."

But in his heart, he knew that it did matter.

And he knew that shepherds, like seamen and like traveling salesmen, always found a town where there was someone who could make them forget the joys of carefree wandering.

The day was dawning, and the shepherd urged his sheep in the direction of the sun.

They never have to make any decisions, he thought.

Maybe that's why they always stay close to me.