But the Fohn did not materialise; in the walnut and chestnut forest around them not a leaf stirred; and gradually the mountains cleared, became inartistically distinct, and turned a beautiful but disturbing dark-blue colour. And Thusis wore her vestal veil in the full sun of noon.
"You know, Yellow-hair," he said, "all these signs are as plain as printed notices. There's bad weather coming. The wind was south; now it's west. I'll bet the mountain cattle are leaving the upper pastures."
He adjusted his binoculars; south of Mount Terrible on another height there were alms; and he could see the cattle descending.
He saw something else, too, in the sky and level with his levelled lenses—something like a bird steering toward him through the whitish blue sky.
Still keeping it in his field of vision he spoke quietly: "There's an airplane headed this way. Step under cover, please."
The girl moved up under the trees beside him and unslung her glasses. Presently she also picked up the oncomer.
"Boche, Kay?"
"I don't know. A monoplane. A Boche chaser, I think. Yes…. Do you see the cross? What insolence! What characteristic contempt for a weaker people! Look at his signal! Do you see? Look at those smoke-balls and ribbons! See him soaring there like a condor looking for a way among these precipices."
The Hun hung low above them in mid-air, slowly wheeling over the gulf. Perhaps it was his shadow or the roar of his engines that routed out the lammergeier, for the unclean bird took the air on enormous pinions, beating his way upward till he towered yelping above the Boche, and their combined clamour came distinctly to the two watchers below.
Suddenly the Boche fired at the other winged thing; the enraged and bewildered bird sheered away in flight and the Hun followed.