"Will you start back at this hour?" put in Panu, Toli's comrade. "The night brings many perils." It was getting quite dark. Stars twinkled. Whether he wished to or not, Mitu Tega was obliged to remain. Then the shepherds set to work; one put the lamb on to the spit, and lit the fire; the other fetched boughs from the wood. He brought whole branches with which they prepared a shelter for the night for Tega--within was a bed of green bracken. Then all three stretched themselves by the fire. Gradually the flames sank a little, on the heap of live coals the lamb began to brown, and spit with fat, and send out an appetizing smell. The moon shone through the bushes; they seemed to move beneath the hard, cold light which flooded the solitude. The shadows of the mountains stretched away indefinitely. Above, some night birds crossed unseen, flapping their wings. Mitu Tega turned his head. For a moment his glance was arrested: by Toli's side, a gun and a long scimitar lay shining on the ground. He was not nervous, otherwise----He glanced at Toli. "What a man!" thought Tega. "I have nothing to fear while I am with him." They began to eat, quickly and hungrily, tearing the meat with their fingers, not speaking a word. Toli picked up the shoulder-bone of the lamb, and drew near the fire, to scrutinize it, for some omen for the future. "What's the matter?" Tega asked. "Nothing--only it seems to me--that there is blood everywhere, that blood pursues. Look, and you, too, Panu." "There is," murmured Panu, "a little blood, one can see a spot, two red patches." The hours passed. The dogs started off towards the woods. From their bark there might be dangerous men on the move. Toli listened a moment, took his gun, and said quickly to Tega: "Have you any weapon about you?" "I have--a pistol." "Take it out, and go in there, and do not move. But you, Panu, get more over there--not near the fire, move into the shadow." He had scarcely finished speaking before the brigands were upon them. They came stealthily through the bushes, avoiding the moonlight, but the shepherd saw them, and without waiting fired a chance shot. "Don't shoot, don't shoot!" cried the robbers. A great noise arose--the flock scattered, the barking of the dogs became gradually more and more excited; there was another report, and yet another. Toli's gun gave a dull sound and was followed by several cries: "You will kill us all like this, all----" "Down with your arms, lay down your arms!" cried Toli. "Look, man, we are putting them down; only don't shoot." "Drop them!" Toli's voice thundered. His voice alone was enough to make one tremble. The brigands threw down their arms, and advanced. There were three of them. One was quite a young man, about thirty-five years of age, with a worn face, and very pale. Blood was flowing from one foot and clotting on to his white gaiters as it flowed. Toli went up to him and said: "I have wounded you--have I wounded you?"