When they reached the slopes on which their sheep were grazing, they met a shout of laughter. "It was your donkey," Vasili explained. "He tried, as usual, to follow the flock and this time slipped down between two rocks and couldn't go forward or back. Didn't you hear him bray? I didn't know what to do and so called for you. But in the meantime this other Vasili here came bounding up from nowhere. And you ought to have seen him manage! He tied the donkey's feet together with a thong and lifted him out as easily as one would a baby." "You know you helped me," said a new voice. The boys looked up to see a stranger standing near. He was of medium height but thickset and very hardy in appearance. Instead of a sheepskin cap a broad-brimmed hat was set well back over a mass of glossy black curls. His features were regular; his eyes were now smiling but there were angry lines written long before around them. The boys shook hands with him and thanked him. "It was nothing," he said. "Aren't we brothers?" "Where are you from?" "I belong to the other side," the youth answered, and then added, "The side that isn't free." All knew at once that he referred to Transylvania, which, although a part of Hungary, is largely inhabited by Roumanians. "We intend to make it free," Nicolaia answered with feeling. The Transylvanian smiled and shook his head. Then, without a word more, he left them. There was one other shepherd that they learned to know. He was the oldest there and came from Jassy, once the capital of Moldavia, a city so old that the Turks claim that it dates back to the time of Abraham. The Roumanians, however, feel that they can do better than that. They put its foundations to the time of their beloved Trajan! This shepherd, of whom later they heard strange wild tales, kept much to himself. Often, however, the monotonously melancholy notes of a wooden flute on which he played would reach them. Sometimes, too, especially at early dawn, they would hear him draw forth powerful notes on the _boutchoum_, such as no other shepherd could equal. CHAPTER XIII LEAVING THE MOUNTAINS Thus the summer slowly passed in healthy out-of-door life that began to grow exceedingly monotonous at the end. It was lonely, too, for after the boys became used to the work even the noon meals together became rarer, and sometimes several days passed with no other communication than a few calls to each other. At last September came. This is the month when the herdsmen take their sheep again to the valleys. The donkey was laden with cheeses of sheep's milk, and the boys followed the procession back to the village from which they had started. They found it delightful to be together again, and somehow, as they talked it over, the summer experience that had begun to be trying regained its charm.