From time to time the rustling ceased, as if the beast halted beneath the trees; then there was such quietude that Zbyszko's ears began to ring; then again slow, careful steps were heard. That approach was so cautious that Zbyszko was surprised.
"I am sure 'the old'[80] must be afraid of the dogs which were here in the shed," said he to himself; "but it may be a wolf that has scented me."
Now the footsteps were no longer heard. Zbyszko, however, was sure that something had stopped twenty or thirty feet behind him.
He turned around once or twice; but although he could see the trunks of the trees quite well, he could not perceive anything else. He was obliged to wait.
He waited so long, that he was surprised a second time.
"A bear would not come here to stop under the barcie; and a wolf would not wait until morning."
Suddenly a shiver ran through his body as he thought:
"Suppose it is something dreadful that comes from the marshes and is trying to surprise me from the rear! Suppose the slippery arms of a drowned man seize me, or the green eyes of a ghost look into my face; suppose a blue head on spider's legs comes out from behind the tree and begins to laugh!"
He felt his hair begin to rise under his iron bonnet.
But after a while, a rustling sounded in front of him, more distinct this time than formerly. Zbyszko breathed more freely; he thought that the same "wonder" had gone around him, and now approached from the front; but he preferred that. He seized his fork firmly, arose quietly and waited.