o the heap. I was
beginning to tunnel into the sticks, when I heard a man's voice,
followed by the clatter of milk cans. Diving into the small hole
already made, I wriggled for all I was worth towards the centre,
dragging the pack after me. It sounds quite simple; all you have to do
is to wriggle; but, in reality, it is surprisingly difficult. When I
tried to force an entrance every dead bough in the heap seemed to
break with an ear-splitting crash, while all the smaller twigs
crackled in chorus. The most peaceable sticks developed sharp spikes,
which stuck into me. Even when I had removed a particularly
objectionable one barring the way, another would shoot out and grasp
my pack, causing an additional delay. Eventually, in a scratched and
weary condition, I got under the centre of the heap, where I lay
feeling none too secure. Although I was forced to keep still for fear
of attracting attention, I managed to nibble the stolen apples and
take stock of my surroundings. The light shone through the pale green
hop leaves, revealing many hairy caterpillars, incessantly gorging.
Inside the heap lived innumerable spiders and other horrors. These
believed in making their presence felt when I did not deign to notice
them. It was a very uncomfortable procedure, drying slowly in a cold
wind. Once, when the leaves blew on one side, I caught a glimpse of a
pear tree swaying overhead, and a dark, forbidding sky in the
background. That day I enjoyed two heavy thunderstorms. At first the
leaves kept off most of the rain, but it soon battered down with such
violence that the former became limp and hung down, leaving me almost
exposed. Everything became saturated. A steady stream of water poured
off the sticks and ran down my neck, while the insects eagerly sought
shelter in my clothing. When the first storm was over, and I lay
shivering in the bright interval, two children came out of the house
and played about in the garden, running several times round and round
my heap. It was such a strain lying absolutely still that I almost
welcomed the second thunderstorm, though it completely soaked
everything that the first one had overlooked. Never in my life have I
passed such an uncomfortable day. But, in the end, discomfort is
preferable to actual danger in an adventure of this sort. At least so
I thought in those days. As it is beyond me to convey to the reader
any adequate idea of the unwillingness of the minutes to resolve
themselves into