The children are distinctly amusing. They are very inquisitive, and ask the traveller all kinds of questions. They certainly welcome him with stones, but they send him away with smiles if he behaves himself nicely. They follow him all about the place, and spoil most of his photographs by getting in places where they are not wanted. They have no great love for soap and water, and do not mind holes in their clothes. They will climb a rock or a tree like a squirrel, and hop about on the edge of a precipice like a mountain-goat. In a word, they are fearless and free. They are fond of learning, and would be more angry with a master if he were late than a master would be with a pupil in this country under similar circumstances. The old people are very superstitious, and they teach the young ones many curious beliefs. When an ox bellows in a particular way, snow is coming; if you see a weasel, it will rain. Never sell an animal on a Monday, for that is unlucky. A sacred key thrown amongst a herd of cattle will sometimes cure the animals of any disease from which they may be suffering. If you kill a young goat and examine the shoulder-blade, the signs on it will tell you many things about the future, if only you know how to read them. On two particular saints’ days little loaves are made and taken to the church. There they are blessed, after which they are carried home again. If you possess one of these loaves, it will keep danger away from you; if you put it on your window in a storm, you will not be hurt by lightning; if the cow is ill, give her a bit, and she will get better; if the house takes fire, throw the little loaf in the flames, and they will go out. CHAPTER XVII SOME STORIES AND LEGENDS Amongst the mountain ranges that run through and across the island, and amongst the cliffs that line the shore, or the great rocks that lift their heads threateningly above the waters, there are many curious shapes, and it does not need much imagination to give names to these unusual forms. At Bonifacio there is a rock that is called the Lion, because someone thought that it bore a resemblance to the king of beasts. At Piana there are rocks of so many comical shapes that you could almost fancy that a lot of ugly old demons had been turned into stone by someone as a kind of joke. They stand one after the other along the edge of a steep precipice, sneering at you, laughing at you, and all the time making you feel as though you would like to make faces at them in return, or at least to box their ears. In some cases stories are told in order to account for the appearances which the rocks present.