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Updated: May 8, 2025
Patches of light crept upon the slanting streaks of rain again; they danced on the tops of the trees and died away among the wet leaves. Damka found a hedgehog under a bush, and wanting to attract her master's attention to it, barked and howled. "Did you have an eclipse or not?" the shepherd called from the bushes. "Yes, we had," answered Meliton. "Ah!
His Damka a mongrel between a yard dog and a setter an extremely thin bitch heavy with young, trailed after her master with her wet tail between her legs, doing all she could to avoid pricking her nose. It was a dull, overcast morning. Big drops dripped from the bracken and from the trees that were wrapped in a light mist; there was a pungent smell of decay from the dampness of the wood.
He looked dejectedly about him, and he felt insufferably sorry for the sky and the earth and the sun and the woods and his Damka, and when the highest drawn-out note of the pipe floated quivering in the air, like a voice weeping, he felt extremely bitter and resentful of the impropriety in the conduct of nature. The high note quivered, broke off, and the pipe was silent.
What is your name?" "Luka the Poor." "Well, good-bye, Luka! Thank you for your good words. Damka, ici!" After parting from the shepherd Meliton made his way along the edge of the wood, and then down hill to a meadow which by degrees turned into a marsh.
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