Out of the way!" "The Roman army has all the world to feed it; Pella has only its sheep.

We, then, must face hunger and cold because your appetites crave mutton this day!" the boy returned resentfully.
The decurion pointed down the road.
"Why waste your breath! There go the sheep." The boy's dark eyes filled with tears.

The decurion swung around him and went back to the horses that waited in the road.

He knotted their bridles together and, leading one of the number, remounted and rode west after the receding cloud of dust which hid the flock.
The shepherd's head sank on his heaving breast and he stood still.
"Lord Jesus, I pray Thee, give me my sheep again!" he prayed.
A deep prolonged thunder that had been filling the hills with sound began to multiply as the nearest slopes caught it and tossed it from echo to echo.

It was not loud but immensely prevalent.