"WE had been encamped in a beautiful situation near Mount Ararat. The tent was pitched on the banks of a rocky ravine, through which flowed a bright stream, while near at hand was a little village and the picturesque ruins of an Armenian Convent. 

We were wandering about, awaiting the loading of the packs, and the other morning preparations for continuing the journey, when we saw a boy come out of the village, followed by a large flock of sheep and goats, more than a hundred in number. The young shepherd led them to a short distance, and then, sitting down on a rock, he produced his knitting from the horsehair bag, which held his provisions for the day, while the flock fed quietly around him. We went up to him, and found him very ready to enter into conversation. He assured us that he knew all the members of his flock by name, and that they also knew their names, and would answer to them. 

Pointing out a pretty young kid on the edge of the flock, we requested him to call it. At the first call the little creature lifted its head, with a quick, intelligent look. At the second, it came trotting up to the shepherd, and received his caresses with every appearance of delight. He repeated the experiment many times, and the animal called never failed to respond to the shepherd's voice. We then tried to call them in the same way, but imitate the shepherd's voice as closely as we would, neither sheep nor goats would pay the least attention to us. ' For a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him; for they know not the voice of strangers.' "