Bill’s friend grabbed the ram by the curl of its horns and began trying to pull it free. The hours in the snow had left the animal exhausted, so it did not fight or resist. But its legs were jammed, possibly frozen onto the rock as well as being stuck, and Bill’s friend couldn’t get it to budge. He heaved, he hauled, he huffed white steam. He worked different angles, but it would not loosen. The ram blinked at him, not bothering to bleat now, not even when Bill’s friend tugged so hard that the rock bit into its trapped flesh, freeing blood onto the snow, onto the frost, warm red trickles that froze before they could run or pool.

Bill’s friend collapsed next to the ram, swearing and panting. These noises reached Bill, who had just begun ascending the track. He shuffled through the snow to his friend’s side and took in the scene. Gazed at the ram. Circled it. Leaned in to inspect the hard-stuck legs. Looked the creature in the black line of its eye. Measured its panicked breaths. Laced his fingers into its wool, hunting for heat.

He then—if Ned’s schoolmate was to be believed—began speaking to the ram. Soft murmurs that his friend couldn’t make out. The ram’s breathing steadied. Bill kept talking to it, his lips close to its soft ear, as he pulled from his pocket a handful of green winter grass that he’d ripped from a paddock that dawn. Now he blew a warm breath onto the bright blades and held them beneath the ram’s nose. Waved his hand back and forth. Used the other one to rub life into its legs. Kept whispering to it, kept offering the grass until the ram began to wriggle. It strained, squirmed, repositioned. Kicked at the rock. Kicked hard. Kicked itself free and fell onto Bill’s chest. Lay in his arms, weak as a lamb, chewing at the grass as Bill carried it all the way down the bitter slope.

It was a long way back. It was so cold, and snow was settling on Bill’s arms and hands, so he didn’t notice when the ram cooled and died—not until he reached the flatness of the paddock, where he could walk more steadily and feel the awful stiffness of the animal in his grip. Over the paddock he could see lights glowing through farmhouse windows, warm and welcome.

14

14

WITH THIS STORY in mind, Ned felt even more compelled to test the boat alone—to prepare for the moment Bill and Toby would come home and see him taming the river. But as he pushed the boat onto the shore he looked back at the shed’s rafters and remembered what his father had told him.