Some of the days during summer vacation at our school, I would trek to one of the hills surrounding Salem with my lone companion, Brownie, on chains. No stray dog en route ever dared attack Brownie, who was more ferocious than most of the others of its species.
After getting to the foot of the hill, we would spend a whale of time climbing and descending the hill repeatedly and drinking the clean, cold, crystal-clear water flowing down the rills from the top. Only when my hunger pangs were getting stronger would I start retreating homeward. On the way, with the pocket money given by my mom, I would have snacks at one of the wayside eateries, sharing them with Brownie.