It was a rifle shot, sure enough, somewhere in the hills, and Chris raised his huge head with a low growl and thrust his nose against me in warning. I was lying on the flat of my back, my hands clasped under my head, thinking lazily, as I watched the glorious sunset amid the Gravenje hills--where the play of sunset colour is at times almost as fine as in Colorado--and speculated when the storm which was brewing would break.…
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