drive their cattle over it and give us a graveyard in the forest where the wolves are, and the foxes.”
I looked at her in astonishment. She had become pale and she looked at me with eyes that reminded me of the Montenegrin maiden in Čermak’s painting of the “Death of the Voyevode.”
My love affair with her was not really much more important than this. That is the reason I did not know what a deep place she had made in my heart. I did not find out until it was too late.
Before daybreak I left the house to go hunting. When I reached the village all was quiet. The road led past the farm of Nedeljković. In the plum garden by the brook, I saw Naja. She had just washed her face and was in the act of combing her hair. She looked enchantingly young and pretty. Her long black hair hung unbound, and through her little shirt which was open, I saw her breasts. At this sight I could not restrain myself, but rushed up to her, flung my arms about her and kissed her. With a loud cry she freed herself from my arms. At first she had not been angry because she thought it was just one of the peasant boys,
