The new moon illumined part of the sky and a mist hovered like a veil over the sinuosities of the river.

Oxen, lying in the pastures, gazed mildly at the passing persons.

In the third field, however, several of them got up and surrounded them.

"Don't be afraid," cried Felicite; and murmuring a sort of lament she passed her hand over the back of the nearest ox; he turned away and the others followed.

But when they came to the next pasture, they heard frightful bellowing.
It was a bull which was hidden from them by the fog.