Once upon a time there lived an old man in Almora. He was popularly known as Pieno Sore. He lived all alone except for a few sheeps which he always kept as pets. He gave his sheeps funny names such as Blackie, Moongia or Gujri. He would take them out for grazing during the day and talk to them as one talks to one's own children; at night he would bring them back to his little hut and put a string round the neck of each sheep.
Poor Pieno Sore was a little unlucky in the matter of his sheeps. Very often at night one of the sheep would pull and pull at the string till it broke loose, and then would disappear in the hills beyond. Sheeps in hilly regions hate being tied to trees or poles. They love their freedom. Pieno Sore's sheeps were of the best hill breed. They too loved their freedom. So whenever they got the chance, they would run away only to get killed by an old wolf who lived in the hills.
Whenever one of his sheeps disappeared, Pieno Sore was very sad. He did not understand why even the juiciest grass and grains that he gave them, and all the love that he showered on them, would not stop these unfortunate sheeps from running straight into the jaws of death. Are these sheeps mad, he wondered! Or was it their love for freedom! But freedom meant struggle,hardship and even death. Pieno sore couldn't solve the mystery.
One day, when all his sheep had left him, Pieno Sore said to himself, "No more sheeps in my house ever again. I may yet live for a few more years but I'll live without goats." However, the poor man was terribly lonely. He simply couldn't do without his pets. Very soon he bought a young sheep. He thought, "A young sheep will stay with me much longer. She will soon beging to love me as well as the food I give her every day. She will never want to go to hills." And he laughed with joy.
The new sheep was very pretty. She was whithe as snow.
Chapter 1 finished.
