"Chok shai! wonderful thing. Then I have lost not only that beautiful animal but my own horse as well. Oh pity! Oh pity!"
He gave up his horse, but before parting he begged the priest to tell him how he knew it would snow.
"My pig told me as we were walking in the garden yesterday. I saw it put its nose in the heap of manure you see in that corner, and I knew that to be a sure sign that it would snow on the morrow," replied the priest.
Deeply mystified, the Turk and his slave proceeded on foot. Reaching a Turkish village before nightfall, he sought and obtained shelter for the night from the Imam, the Mohammedan priest of the village. While partaking of the evening meal he asked the Imam when the feast of the Bairam would be.
"Truly, I do not know! When the cannons fire, I will know it is Bairam," said his host.
"What!" said the traveller, becoming angry, "you an Imam,—a learned Hodja,—and don't know when it will be Bairam, and the pig of the Greek priest knew when it would snow? Shame! Shame!"
And becoming much angered, he declined the hospitality of the Imam and went elsewhere.