On the way, they did not meet a single living creature. All the little animals were already hidden and only tiny spiders were wafted above them on silvery threads. The cold breeze blowing through the stubble field was becoming stronger and turning against them. Chrysomela began to cough. She controlled herself as best she could, but finally she was obliged to ask Tom if they could rest a bit, as the walking was tiring her.
By this time, they had reached the end of the stubble field and had come to a wild briar bush, behind which was a freshly ploughed field full of glistening furrows. Tom placed Chrysomela on a few dried leaves under the briar and offered her seeds of beech nut and a nice red berry, but she was not hungry and only drank thirstily the blackberry juice from his bottle. Her hands were hot, her little forehead burning; she trembled all over with cold, while her eyes were shining with fever's brightness.
Tom stroked her hair and soothed her by telling her how comfortable they would be at Castle Easter Egg with the Godmother. He told her of the tree with the golden nuts and sweet dates, and the precious little altar with the kings, shepherds, the Mother and the Baby; but Chrysomela no longer heard him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Tom realized that they would not be able to go any farther that day and dreaded the night under the open sky. He covered Chrysomela with a briar leaf and seated himself beside her. In a little while, as he was very tired, he fell asleep.
Suddenly, he awoke. Already, the darkness was stealing over the county, the evening wind was whistling through the wild briar and playing with the leaves. Tom wanted to protect Chrysomela. He put his arm around her waist and wrapped a rolled up beech leaf around her, but the strong wind caught it up and, whirling it with many others, carried them through the air until they fell into a deep furrow.
Here they were sheltered, at least, from the wind and, crawling out from the leaf, they looked around them, but everywhere they could only see black earth slippery and soft like high hills with nowhere any sign of human traces. They did not know where they were, or whither the wind had carried them.
All about them was only the dark night, while the cold of the evening pierced them to the bone. Chrysomela pressed close to Little Tom, but she was so weary, she could hardly stand on her feet. Tom feared to leave her, lest he might lose her, so, supporting her as best he could, stumbled on with her along the furrow until they came to a broad hole. He wanted at once to step in with Chrysomela, not caring who was there, and to ask for shelter, when, suddenly, out of the darkness, came a gigantic animal in a fur coat, with bristling whiskers and puffed out cheeks. It was the Hamster.
