If, however, the Heriki were just friendly travelling companions for us, they were regarded much in the light of an annual migration of wolves by all the villages on the road. These were all standing to arms till the danger should have passed--the sheep penned in folds close to the houses, the women all within doors, and the men with guns in hand, much inclined to shoot at the stranger first and ask whether he did not mean mischief after. A little _yourt_[97] that we purchased at one place was only handed out to us through one loop-hole while the master of the house kept us covered with a gun from another. Albeit when we had duly handed over coin of the realm in payment, that gentleman became effusively friendly and apologetic--through his closed and barred door. Really, these precautions were not uncalled for. The Heriki carry off everything that happens to fall in their way, as incidents already recorded to testify, and "stealis and reifis" with as much impunity as the "common thiefis of Liddisdail" in old Sir R. Maitland's day. _They plainly throw the country rydis,_ _I trow the mekil deil thame gydis!_ _Quhair thay onset,_ _Ay in thair gait,_ _Thair is na yet nor dor thame bydis._ Poor fellows, they were rather out of humour too, because things had not been going quite well with them. Hitherto, it had been easy to avoid all the attentions of the tax-collector by a proper timing of their migrations, coupled with a little _bakhshish_ to officials; and at the worst they could always go over the border to Persia out of the jurisdiction. Now, however, their condition had greatly deteriorated. Persia had gone so much farther off owing to recent changes, and Ottoman officials were to be found even in the summer pastures which had been free of them before. Thus does a "rectification of frontier," such as Turkey was then carrying out at the expense of Persia,[98] bring unmerited trouble upon quiet folk. We stayed for one night in the village of Sat, which gives its name to the whole range. The place is Christian (Nestorian), but its inhabitants have a name for quarrelsomeness and love of intrigue that makes them a proverb among their not very peaceful nation. Such at least is the description given of their character by their own Patriarch, who is, we suppose, the highest authority possible on such a matter; and we give the legend illustrative of the fact, as current among the nation and recounted to us by his Grace himself. A woman of Sat was once on a journey, near to a Nestorian village unnamed, when she met an old acquaintance on the road outside. This was no less a person than Satana himself, who was sitting on a stone, weeping bitterly. "O Brother, what is your trouble?" said the sympathizing lady. "I am broken-hearted," sobbed the poor fiend; "I have been trying to sow strife in this village for seven years and have not raised a single quarrel in that time; I must give it up."