Hand in hand we ran as fast as we could against the hard, beating rain, the fierce wind blowing against us, bending even big trees, and mercilessly breaking off their branches. With the agility of children we managed to reach a high cliff partly concealed by pines. It resembled a gigantic hand, rising up, the fingers curving over and forming a protected hollow. Into this we crept and sat down, high above the Sea of Marmora, with miles and miles of horizon in front of us.
In our little shelter the rain could not get at us, but we were already wet, and our clothes clung to us uncomfortably.
"Let us take our coats off," suggested Djimlah, "for the under layer must be less wet than the upper one. And also let us take off our shoes and stockings. We shall be more comfortable without them."
We divested ourselves of some of our clothing, and as the hollow where we sat had sand, we stretched our coats in front of us to dry, curled our feet under us, and snuggled very close to each other.
The storm was still raging, but we now looked upon it with the renewed interest and pleasure derived from our safety.
"We didn't find its roots after all," Djimlah observed. "I believe it begins at the feet of Allah and ends there, and since we are
