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In a forest of mixed growth somewhere on the eastern spurs of Carpathians, a man stood one winter night watching and listening, as though he waited for some beast of the woods to come within range of his vision and, later, of his rifle.
As Ilrich stepped around the tree he came face to face with the man he sought. They stood there with exasperation with one another
A mass falling beech tree had thundered down on them.
We fight this quarrel out to the death, you and i and our foresters Gerg retorted.
Ulrich asked Georg if they could be friends. Georg was silent the agreed to reconciliate the fued. Ulrich felt succor to heaar him say that.
The wolves killed Ulrich and Georg. Neither of the men could send condolences to each others family.
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