In those moments, I think, I could have loved somebody as well as I loved later--somebody who cared to get up secretly, and stand and see the sun come up.
Was there not somebody who got up before the sun?
Was there not Mishka the shepherd?
Aye, that was an early riser; but I knew he was no sun-worshipper.

Before the chickens stirred, before the lazy maid let the cow out of the barn, I heard his rousing horn, its distant notes harmonious with the morning.

Barn doors creaked in response to Mishka's call, and soft-eyed cattle went willingly out to meet him, and stood in groups in the empty square, licking and nosing each other; till Mishka's little drove was all assembled, and he tramped out of town behind them, in a cloud of dust..