The fire had gone out when I awoke. I built it back up and went about the chores, milking the ewes and such. All the while, I couldn't shake the sick feeling that had, still, settled on my stomach.

But, then, I figured it would be better for me to eat the men than it would be for me to eat my own sheep.

They were watching me from the far end of the cave, beyond the reaches of the fire's light. I pondered whether I should leave them be, but decided that food was just the same as any.

I started towards them, they, knowing what I was coming for. Again, I caught the two slowest and had them for a meal. Breakfast.

I washed the manflesh down with more whey and then herded my ewes together. They bleated at me, knowing it was time to go.

My stomach had settled, if not a tiny bit. For all I knew, the sickness I'd felt before was only a small bug that I'd caught during the day yesterday.

I rolled the stone from in front of the entrance and hurried the sheep through the opening. It worried me that Speck might try to escape while I was busy. Then I pulled the stone back to close off their exit.

None had escaped.

The other sheep—the rams—were already at my side. I grabbed my shepherd staff (a pole I'd fashioned from a tree) and tapped the lead ram.

Then I whistled for the other sheep. They followed closely, their stupid bleating ringing in my ears. This was the least that i needed.

I led then to the usual spot—above the cave and near the edge of a cliff. It was near the sea so I could look out on it while I worked. It wasn't much fun, herding sheep. I had to admit that much at least.

And I still had a problem at hand.

How am I to rid myself of these puny humans?

I had no idea. The only obvious thing was to eat them all. Just the thought turned my stomach. Though I'd rather eat than starve, humans were definitely not on my 'favorite foods' list.

It worried me that they might be smart creatures. Smart would mean that they could plan on killing me while I slept.

But if they were smart, they would have done it last night . . . right?

Right. They were stupid, then.

I settled on a rock—my favorite rock for sitting. It was flat and tall, and a good lookout for watching the flock. They were troublesome every once in a while when I took them near the cliffs.

The sun was hot on my back and I knew it couldn't be more than midday. I had a long day ahead of me.

The sheep were getting restless. It wasn't time to go yet, but I was nervous.

What if the humans have found a way to escape?

Though I doubted it (they were stupid) I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So I whistled for the flock and they gathered quickly, bleating their song.

I tapped the lead ram again and he bounded past me, then look back as if to ask if I was following. He reminded me of a dog.

I never named any of my flock. I could tell them apart easily enough. But this one was the easiest. He seemed to be smarter than the rest, if anything.



The flock followed me down the small hill that led to the cave. It was the only hill the sheep could actually pass over—another reason why I'd chosen the cliff above my cave.

I leaned my staff against the rock wall and rolled the stone away from the entrance. The fire was small now, its light weakening.

The men were once again huddled in the far corner of the cave.

I hurried the flock—all of them—into the cave this time. There was rain in the air and clouds had begun to move across the horizon. There was nothing that stank worse than damp sheep wool.

Then I rolled the rock back over the opening, much to the humans' dismay.

I hurried through the chores again and penned the flock into one large side of the cave. It would be better, I'd decided, if they weren't roaming all over the place.

Then I caught two more men and ate them for dinner. Though they still tasted nasty, my stomach was finally settling to the idea of humans.

I then sat at the fire, thinking nothing, really. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that something was different about the cave.

I looked over at the pile of trees propped against the cavern wall that I had collected to assemble a new sheep's pen. The pile looked smaller than it had the day before, when I'd brought them in early the day before.

Ah, well.

But I doubted the puny men could have lifted them. I dismissed the thought with no further pondering.

Soon after, Speck approached me with a bowl of something in his hands. He held it out to me and said, "Cyclops, here is some wine to wash down your scraps of men. Taste it and see what we carried under our planks."

I regarded the tiny man that held the bowl out for me. Why would he be giving a gift to me now?

"I had meant it as an offering if you had helped us home," Speck continued," But you are mad, unbearable, a bloody monster! After this, will any other traveler come to see you?"

I didn't much care if any other travelers came to see me. After this, I would despise even the thought of another man.

But there could be no harm in drinking a bowl of wine. So I seized the bowl and drank it all in one gulp. I had never tasted anything like it. Wine had never been my thing, but this was . . . good.

"Give me another," I told Speck. "Tell me, what is your name? I'll make a gift will please you. Even Cyclopes know that wine-grapes grow out of the grassland and loam in the heaven's rain, but here's a bit of ambrosia and nectar!"

He didn't answer my question, but brought me more wine like I'd ordered. Three in total, maybe more. By the time he answered me, I knew I was drunk.

"Cyclops, you ask my honorable name?"

The word 'honorable' had a bit of exaggeration to it that made it sound as though he thought he was the most important man on earth. I would have scoffed, but was too out of it to realize what he had really said.

"Remember the gift you promised me and, and I will tell you. My name is Nohbdy. My mother, father, and friends, everyone calls me Nohbdy."

Somehow I was standing, though I couldn't remember how or when I had gotten up. I reeled back as I said, "Nohbdys my meat, then, after I eat his friends. The others come first. There's a noble gift, now."

In that instant, I fell to the ground and knocked my head against the wall of the cave.

It was, I have to say, the biggest mistake of my life. (No exaggeration there.)