When I called to see Milmaq I found him in his bed. He was terribly thin and had a high fever. I kept watch over him for the next three days. During this time, the machines were moving closer and closer to the hut. Soon there were only a few trees still standing. Until, through the window, I could see just one tree left. It was a magnificent oak, the one which Milmaq had often spoken to. The men moved in with their evil-sounding saws and began work. I watched, hypnotized by the enormity of this massacre of trees. Behind me I heard Milmaq stir. He staggered to his feet and leaned on the window sill, The oak shuddered, swayed and, with a gut-wrenching groan, crashed in a pile of splintered branches. As it hit the ground, Milmaq himself collapsed. He was dead. I looked at the clock. It was three in the afternoon. In the distance I heard the rumble of thunder from the next valley.
We only heard about Torbash later. He had apparently left a meeting in his office and driven off at high speed. All he had said was, 'My brother. My brother." In his desperate haste, he had taken a short air along a forest track leading from the next valley to our own. A violent thunderstorm had blown up — the one I had heard from Milmaq's hut. An enormous oak tree had been struck by lightning. It had fallen across the track, crushing the car and Torbash with it. The crash had stopped the car clock. Its hands' pointed to three.
I have finished. My story is told. 'Fashan kat maan nat, maan q'a nat