PRESAGE OF BAD WEATHER. 187 



Whilst this was going on, a very ragged 

 small boy, sole guardian of about forty goats, 

 came down from the grass slopes of the oppo- 

 site ridge with a batter pudding in a wooden 

 bowl for us, and a present of sour milk. We 

 gave the wee chappie some small silver, where- 

 upon he kissed our hands and went off happy. 

 All day long Vassili kept croaking about 

 the weather. A snake, he said, had bitten 

 the moon last night, which accounted for its 

 having turned blood red before it set, and 

 presaged bad weather to come. And Yassili 

 was right. As the evening came on, heavy 

 clouds came up all round, and the muttering 

 of the thunder could be heard every now and 

 again amongst the peaks. But fine or stormy, 

 this was the last night on which the fields 

 would be fairly quiet, so Frank and I each 

 moved off to a fresh hunting ground at an 

 early hour, having a somewhat longer trudge 

 than usual to our posts. 



