The pastures were on the other side of the meadows of Mont d’Orcières. The fact that they had to pass close to the wild cats added a little danger to the journey. All summer the sheep and cows would graze about three hours’ walk away from the lions, a long way certainly, but the villagers knew that every night they would be worried. All summer long they would fear for the sheep and cows, first because the war was spreading, and secondly because since winter the wolves had returned. That was why, that year, Le Simple would be backed up by three dogs. No one dared admit it, but three dogs seemed a meagre insurance against wolves and lions. And although the shepherd was not as incapable as he seemed, he had never taken cows that far away. So that year he was also provided with two shepherd’s rifles, just in case. With three dogs and two rifles, he should manage. And Le Simple had a talent for knowing which route to take and for feeling the wind, knowing that there are two things sheep hate – being on their own and being in the wind. He took them where there were at least five hundred hectares of pasture, little shady woods, plenty to feed his animals and to protect them all from forest fires.