3
A hazy blue-grey cloud blotted out the sky. The tops of the fir trees were swaying rhythmically. The forest was noisy and agitated, and the first raindrops criss-crossed the air.
Ivan was climbing nimbly among tree trunks and stones, anxious not to slow down. He noticed now that his knee was showing through a hole in his trousers that had been made by the dog. The cloth must have stuck to a wound on the thigh while he had been standing under the rock. It came loose from walking, and the wound now hurt. His bare toes had struck so many stones that they were also bleeding now. Some thorns had ground painfully into his heel, but he had no time to think about his pain.
Meanwhile, all the noise behind his back had died down. Caught in the rain, the danger had hidden somewhere and fallen be
