There was language which would have made the mothers of then weep, and there were faces grown crimson from wrath.

Eventually, however, the Happy Family faced the north fence of the Flying U boundary, and saw the last woolly back scrape under the lower wire, leaving a toll of greasy wool hanging from the barbs.
The herders had drawn together, and were looking on from a distance, and the four dogs were yelping uneasily over their enforced inaction.

The Happy Family went back and rounded up the herders, and by sheer weight of numbers forced them to the fence without laying so much as a finger upon then.

The one who had been killing black bugs gave then an ugly look as he crawled through, but even he did not say anything.
"Snap them wires down where they belong," Weary commanded tersely.
The man hesitated a minute, then sullenly unhooked the barbs of the two lower strands, so that the wires, which had thus been lifted to permit the passing of the sheep, twanged apart and once more stretched straight from post to post.
"Now, just keep in mind the fact that fences are built for use.

This is a private ranch, and sheep are just about as welcome as smallpox.