We sat in the shade of old oak, the day was warm, clear, a light wind passed through the branches of trees full of light, and told them stories. The old witch and I were watching the road which twisted through the forests, across the meadow, the landscape gave us its beauty. Then, just like every Friday - about these late afternoon hours - out of a forest out on the road a figure is known to us, he was wearing a dark shadow on his back, and the gray cloak - for eyes invisible - dragged behind him. Today he walked a little slower than the last Friday when I saw him, the back is a little more bent, like a wolf when stalking prey, head jutting forward. It was a wicked wizard Okapoan, we knew he hated the old witch, jealous of her ability to do magic. He walked like a thief who did not want anyone to see him and when he came to a small hill,
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