remained standing, were supported by idols which served as columns,
and--by the permission of God--these figures with women's heads and
cow's horns, threw on Paphnutius a long look which made him turn pale.
He walked thus seventeen days, his only food a few raw herbs, and
he slept at night in some ruined palace, amongst the wild cats and
Pharaoh's rats, with which mingled sometimes, women whose bodies ended
in a scaly tail. But Paphnutius knew that these women came from hell,
and he drove them away by making the sign of the cross.

On the eighteenth day, he found, far from any village, a wretched hut
made of palm leaves, and half buried under the sand which had been
driven by the desert wind. He approached it, hoping that the hut was
inhabited by some pious anchorite. He saw inside the hovel--for there
was no door--a pitcher, a bunch of onions, and a bed of dried leaves.

"This must be the habitation of a hermit," he said to himself. "Hermits
are generally to be found near their hut, and I shall not fail to meet
this one. I will give him the kiss of peace, even as the holy Anthony
did when he came to the hermit Paul, and kissed him three times. We will
discourse of things eternal, and perhaps our Lord will send us, by one
of His ravens, a crust of bread, which my host will willingly invite me
to share with him."

Whilst he was thus speaking to himself, he walked round the hut to see
if he could find any one. He had not walked a hundred paces when he saw
a man seated, with his legs crossed, by the side of the river. The man
was naked; his hair and beard were quite white, and his body redder than
brick. Paphnutius felt sure this must be the hermit. He saluted him with
the words the monks are accustomed to use when they meet each other.