Distress alert.

It is Sunday and we have just returned from a boat trip. The sun is still shining and all seemed well until a couple of hours ago, when a loud wail filled the air from somewhere just above our property. Was it a child crying? I strained to hear. Perhaps it was our neighbour F.'s little granddaughter, although if truth be told we never ever hear her cry. The wailing became more intense. After a while we decided that it must definitely be a dog. Someone would have comforted a child for sure. The cries continued. It must be one of the hunters' dogs we concluded. Should we go and investigate; try and help ? I'm afraid that 'discretion has proved the better part of valour.' No way will I venture into the forest around us on a hunting day. We decided to phone R. , a local villager instead. We know him to be a keen hunter. It so happened that he was in the forest at that very moment, and knew all about the dog. No it isn't injured, he assured us. It is stuck in the cliffs, and the pompiers ( rescue services/ambulance/fire services) are coming to rescue it. Many hours have passed now , but we have not heard the pompiers go past. The dogs cries have grown fainter. It has not yet been rescued. Suddenly I have another reason to dislike the hunters, whatever Stéphane says( see my blog.) That sanglier they gave us will not go down quite so well.