Neither birdsong nor creaking trees are heard in that desolate place. A chorus of gushing waterfalls and gurgling streams is the music of the mountaintops. That night, the long forgotten sleep of the innocent came to call. Not a single sound spoiled the silence of the black night. The farmhouse, well-rehearsed over centuries, was up to the task of refreshing guests with the spiritual nourishment of untroubled slumber.