The car Jack was driving swerved up alongside an embankment and skidded back down onto the road before turning into a small sheepdog named Vernon. The dog bounded happily around the congested traffic, his white gossamer fur flopping comically in rhythm with his frolicking Vernon joined a nearby cadre of sheepdogs that were busily engaged in ascending the steep embankment in pursuit of a man. Jack watched as his sheep dog leaped twenty feet into the air, and his heart swelled with pride that his dog could jump the highest.
This advantage allowed Vernon to reach the top of the hill first, and he stopped briefly to get his bearings. The other side of the hill dropped gently into a calm, blue ocean, and the distance between the hilltop and the beach was occupied entirely by a sea of golden wheat plants swaying gently in the breeze. At the bottom of the hill, floating in shallow water near the beach, sat a caravel moored to a small dock. It was towards this ship that a man was sprinting down the hill. This was the man the sheepdogs were after.
By this time the rest of the dogs had reached the hilltop, and the whole troupe barked as they descended the hill in pursuit of the man. He had reached the ship, untethered it, and because of his haste had opted to extend the mainsail even before he fully left the dock. Jack, observing the proceedings, thought this to be unwise.
