Another minute and the corpse was hanging from the balcony, while we lay out and waited, talking in low tones. The bark of foxes came from vineyards near at hand, where there were unripe grapes. 'Our vines have tender grapes,' our host repeated; making me think of the fable of the fox and the grapes, which I related to Rashid in Arabic as best I could. He laughed as he exclaimed: 'Ripe grapes, thou sayest? Our foxes do not love ripe grapes and seldom steal them. I assure you, it was sour grapes that the villain wanted, and never did they seem so exquisitely sour as when he found out that he could not reach them. How his poor mouth watered!' This was new light upon an ancient theme for us, his hearers. After an hour or two of idle waiting, when no foxes came, we went to bed, forgetting all about the hanging dog. The house was close beside a carriage road which leads down from the chief town of the mountains to the city, passing many villages. As it was summer, when the wealthy citizens sleep in the mountain villages for coolness' sake, from the dawn onward there was a downward stream of carriages along that road. When the daylight became strong enough for men to see distinctly, the sight of a great brown and white dog hanging from our balcony, and slowly turning, struck terror in the breasts of passers-by. Was it a sign of war, or some enchantment? Carriage after carriage stopped, while its inhabitants attempted to explore the mystery. But there was nobody about to answer questions. My host and I, Rashid as well, were fast asleep indoors. Inquirers looked around them on the ground, and then up at the shuttered house and then at the surrounding olive trees, in one of which they finally espied a nest of bedding on which reclined a blue-robed man asleep. It was the cook, Amin, who slept there for fresh air. The firing of the night before had not disturbed him. By dint of throwing stones they woke him up, and he descended from his tree and stood before them, knuckling his eyes, which were still full of sleep. They asked: 'What means this portent of the hanging dog?' He stared incredulously at the object of their wonder, then exclaimed: 'Some enemy has done it, to insult me, while I slept. No matter, I will be avenged before the day is out.' The tidings of the mystery ran through the village, and every able-bodied person came to view it, and express opinions. 'The dog is well known. He is called Barud; he was the finest in our village. He used to guard the dwelling of Sheykh Ali till he transferred his pleasure to the house of Sheykh Selim. It was a sin to kill him,' was the general verdict. And Amin confirmed it, saying: 'Aye, a filthy sin. But I will be avenged before the day is out.'