The sun had barely shown half its face when Harimu crawled out of his winter camp dwelling, went around back to relieve himself, then headed to the livestock pens. He opened the gates to both the open pen and the heated inner pen, went inside, and drove out the cattle and sheep lying down and the horses standing there.
Once driven out after being cooped up all night, some of the cattle and sheep hurriedly nibbled grass tips that had not yet been completely flattened beneath the snow. Some ran to the pool to drink, while others began urinating on the snow as soon as they came through the gate.
Letting them out now meant the dung and urine they had held all night ended up outside, rather than making the heated pen damp and smelly.
Even so, when Harimu lifted the heated pen's padded curtain, a foul, rank smell immediately wafted out.
He used a wooden pitchfork to clear the bare grass stalks out of the open pen. Some mischievous cattle and sheep, having drunk their fill and emptied their bellies, looked up at the green Pine Forest in the distance and wanted to run that way.
The black dogs rushed over, barking, and drove them back.
The cattle and sheep could only wander nearby. The clever ones had already gone to the haystack beside the pen and started eating the hay.
After clearing all the bare stalks from the pen, Harimu went to the haystack, chased away the cattle and sheep crowding around it, and carried bundles of hay into the open pen with his pitchfork, spreading them into several piles.
After carrying three bundles of hay, he put down the pitchfork, picked up the herding whip at the sheepfold gate, and began driving the sheep inside.
Once