Musoncella and the Velia down in Santa Tarsilla.'
'What if they do? Either is as good a name as Zirlo. Why do they call you Zirlo?'
'Because I sing!'[1]
'Who does not sing? That is nothing. Why do you bring your goats here?'
'Why not here? The moor and the marsh are free. It is hot, but there was no grass on the mountain so I came; I live in a hut on this moor in winter. I have not been down here since Pasquà.'
Musa was silent. She knew that it was true; the land was free.
'Do you live far off?' she asked.
'Up there,' he said; and pointed vaguely across the plain.
'What do they call it, where you live?'
'San Lionardo. It is over there.'
He pointed again across to where the red sullen haze of the heat overhung the inland moors, where they swelled upward and met the first spurs of the mountains.
Musa stood and looked; he was close by the aperture of the tombs, which she had carefully covered with stones and dead branches; he was lying on his back, with
- ↑ Zirlo means the whistling of the thrush.
