- end_line
- 3479
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:05.590Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 3420
- text
- to his consternation, he saw the man returning towards him, evidently
by his pace and gesture in unmixed amazement. The man must have turned
round to look before Israel had done so. Frozen to the ground, Israel
knew not what to do; but next moment it struck him that this very
motionlessness was the least hazardous plan in such a strait. Thrusting
out his arm again towards the house, once more he stood stock still,
and again awaited the event.
It so happened that this time, in pointing towards the house, Israel
unavoidably pointed towards the advancing man. Hoping that the
strangeness of this coincidence might, by operating on the man’s
superstition, incline him to beat an immediate retreat, Israel kept
cool as he might. But the man proved to be of a braver metal than
anticipated. In passing the spot where the scarecrow had stood, and
perceiving, beyond the possibility of mistake, that by, some
unaccountable agency it had suddenly removed itself to a distance,
instead of being, terrified at this verification of his worst
apprehensions, the man pushed on for Israel, apparently resolved to
sift this mystery to the bottom.
Seeing him now determinately coming, with pitchfork valiantly
presented, Israel, as a last means of practising on the fellow’s fears
of the supernatural, suddenly doubled up both fists, presenting them
savagely towards him at a distance of about twenty paces, at the same
time showing his teeth like a skull’s, and demoniacally rolling his
eyes. The man paused bewildered, looked all round him, looked at the
springing grain, then across at some trees, then up at the sky, and
satisfied at last by those observations that the world at large had not
undergone a miracle in the last fifteen minutes, resolutely resumed his
advance; the pitchfork, like a boarding-pike, now aimed full at the
breast of the object. Seeing all his stratagems vain, Israel now threw
himself into the original attitude of the scarecrow, and once again
stood immovable. Abating his pace by degrees almost to a mere creep,
the man at last came within three feet of him, and, pausing, gazed
amazed into Israel’s eyes. With a stern and terrible expression Israel
resolutely returned the glance, but otherwise remained like a statue,
hoping thus to stare his pursuer out of countenance. At last the man
slowly presented one prong of his fork towards Israel’s left eye.
Nearer and nearer the sharp point came, till no longer capable of
enduring such a test, Israel took to his heels with all speed, his
tattered coat-tails streaming behind him. With inveterate purpose the
man pursued. Darting blindly on, Israel, leaping a gate, suddenly found
himself in a field where some dozen laborers were at work, who
recognizing the scarecrow—an old acquaintance of theirs, as it would
seem—lifted all their hands as the astounding apparition swept by,
followed by the man with the pitchfork. Soon all joined in the chase,
but Israel proved to have better wind and bottom than any. Outstripping
the whole pack he finally shot out of their sight in an extensive park,
heavily timbered in one quarter. He never saw more of these people.
Loitering in the wood till nightfall, he then stole out and made the
best of his way towards the house of that good natured farmer in whose
corn-loft he had received his first message from Squire Woodcock.
Rousing this man up a little before midnight, he informed him somewhat
of his recent adventures, but carefully concealed his having been
employed as a secret courier, together with his escape from Squire
Woodcock’s. All he craved at present was a meal. The meal being over,
Israel offered to buy from the farmer his best suit of clothes, and
displayed the money on the spot.
- title
- Chunk 2