Out on the wold the shepherd sat huddled in his hut over the charcoal stove ... A bleat roused him. At his feet by the stove lay his latest newborn, lanky and damp. He turned it over and stretched out for the bottle of warm milk. First tying the teat himself, he placed it in the lamb's mouth. Tenderly, with all the wisdom of over fifty lambing seasons, he seemed to breathe life into the inert huddled mass of legs, gently caressing the tiny body that was hardly as big as one of his own enormous hands.