"Thank you; thank you!" I repeated fervently.
"What are you thanking me for? That's queer! I say, God bless you, and he thanks me! Were you afraid I'd send you to the devil, eh?"
"I'd done wrong and I was afraid," I answered.
"Oh!" and the old man lifted his eyebrows.
"Why should I drive a man farther along the wrong path?
I'd do better by helping one along the way I'm going myself.
Maybe, we shall meet again, and then we'll meet as friends.
We ought to help one another where we can. Good-bye!"
He took off his large shaggy sheepskin cap, and bowed low to us.
His comrades bowed too.
We inquired our way to Anapa, and started off. Shakro was laughing at something or other.
CHAPTER VIII.
"Why are you laughing?" I asked.
The old shepherd and his ethics of life had charmed and delighted me. I felt refreshed by the pure air of early morning, blowing straight into my face. I rejoiced, as I watched the sky gradually clearing, and felt that daylight was not far off. Before long the morning sun would rise in a clear sky, and we could look forward to a brilliantly fine day.
Shakro winked slyly at me, and burst out into a fresh fit of laughter. The hearty, buoyant ring in his laugh made me smile also. The few hours rest we had taken by the side of the shepherd's fire, and their excellent bread and bacon, had helped us to forget our exhausting voyage. Our bones still ached a little, but that would pass off with walking.