“Everything was burning that hot and ominous summer. Entire towns, villages and villages burned; the forest and fields were no longer their protection: the defenseless forest itself obediently flared up, and fire spread like a red tablecloth across the dried-out meadows. During the day, the crimson, dim sun hid in the acrid smoke, and at night a silent glow flashed at different ends of the sky, swayed in a silent fantastic dance, and strange, vague shadows from people and trees crawled along the ground like unknown reptiles. The dogs stopped babbling in welcome tea, calling the traveler from afar and promising him shelter and affection, and instead howled protractedly and pitifully, or remained gloomily silent, huddled underground. And people, like dogs, looked at each other with angry and frightened eyes and spoke loudly about arson and mysterious arsonists...”