But the wolves were none the worse for this mixed dose--on the contrary, they seemed to be all the better for it; the treatment did them good and improved their appetite. Where, up to this time, they had been content to steal a cat, they now carried off a grown pig; the horses and cows were invaded in their very stables and outhouses; things went from bad to worse. All the world recognised that the curses of the _znaharka_ agreed with the wolves, they grew fat upon her maledictions and the Tirnova cattle: Marfa had made another lamentable failure! Thus, gradually, the immense prestige of the old woman waned and drooped and disappeared. One thing after another failed with her. Now that faith had gone, success went also. Those who, but yesterday, had believed in and honoured her, scoffed to-day as she passed them; nor was this all. As failures multiplied, ill-feeling towards her increased. Where she had been feared and loved, she was now ridiculed and hated. Men no longer accorded to her her former honourable appellation of "the wise woman"; they took to calling her _vyedma_ and _bába yagá_, both of which terms mean witch, or sorceress, and carry a weight of abusive meaning, for a witch is always malignant, while a _znaharka_ is invariably a useful and benevolent member of society. The idea once started that poor Marfa was a _vyedma_, the unfortunate woman was--like the proverbial dog to whom a bad name has been given--practically already hanged. She rapidly grew in the ill-favour of the inconstant villagers, by whom she was accused of all manner of monstrosities of which she was entirely innocent. There was no misfortune or calamity that happened at this time within the district but it was quickly laid to the charge of Marfa. In a short while she was cursed and hated by the entire population. At last matters culminated in an accusation brought against the poor woman by the pastuch, or cowherd, of the community. The _znaharka_, this man declared, had taken to milking the cows of the villagers by means of witchcraft, while the animals were away at the pasture. There were two circumstances which lent colour to this statement. In the first place, the milking of cows by magical means was known to be a favourite accomplishment of _vyedmui_, who, from all times, have been addicted to this dishonest and wicked practice--a practice exercised by them not out of mere mischief, but for profit--for witches must live as well as any one else. In the second place, many of the cows had, of late, been unaccountably short of milk; good milkers, too, who had never hitherto disappointed their owners. Day after day these animals were found, at milking time, to be absolutely without their frothy produce. At a hastily convened meeting of the heads of houses the pastuch was instructed to watch the herd while at pasture, to watch carefully from a convenient spot, he himself remaining, if possible, unseen; and then to return and report. This the cowherd did, and with