Directly across the street, a small group of hill people arrived at the wine shop.

They are hill people, the sea is not their element, and most of them were often sick.

If we were lucky enough to find hill people, they would live with us for the next two months.

From a quarter of a mile away we could tell they were hill people.

The Mexicans knew their place, and the hill people were expected to know theirs.

The hill people were silent, and the locals watched without taking a step forward.

They were still in town, probably visiting with other hill people.

By then the hill people and the Mexicans would be long gone.

Next year I'd put up a fence to keep hill people off my baseball field.

Moreover these group of hill people share close physical similarities.