The strength of these superstitions to-day, as gauged by the shifts and compromises to which the peasants resort in order to satisfy their scruples, goes far to guarantee the historical accuracy of such ballads as ‘the Bridge of Arta.’ Not of course that each of the numerous versions with all its local colouring is to be taken as evidence of human sacrifice in each place named; exactitude of detail cannot be claimed for them. But as a faithful picture of the beliefs and customs prevalent not more perhaps than two or three centuries ago they deserve full credence. Both the wide dispersion of the several versions, and also the skill with which in each of them the action of the master-builder evokes feelings not of aversion but rather of pity for a man of whom religious duty demanded the sacrifice of his own wife, furnish plain proof of the domination which the superstition in its most gruesome form once exercised; and the intentions of the modern peasants, if not their acts, testify to the same overwhelming dread of _genii_. That the ceremonies which I have described are in general of the nature of sacrifices to _genii_ is beyond question. In the version of ‘the Bridge of Arta’ which I have translated, both the _genius_ and the victim whom he demands appear as _dramatis personae_. Again, in some districts the word ‘sacrifice’ (θυσιό[705] or θυσία[706]) is actually still applied to the rite. Finally, though the victims are of various kinds and the forms in which a genius may appear equally various, the distinction between the two is as a rule kept clear; cases of a single species of animal serving for both _genius_ and victim--of the _genius_ for example appearing as a cock or of the chosen victim being a snake--are extremely rare. Confusion of the two nevertheless does occur; the original _genius_ of the site is sometimes forgotten, and the victim is conceived to be slain and buried in order that from the under-world it may exercise a guardianship over the building which is its tomb. Thus in one version of ‘the Bridge of Arta,’ inferior in many respects to that which I have translated, the complaint of the master-craftsman’s wife contains the line τρεῖς ἀδερφούλαις εἴμασταν, ταὶς τρεῖς στοιχειὰ μᾶς βάλαν[707], ‘Three sisters we, and all the three they took for guardian-demons.’