“Handful after handful I pulled out and crowded behind me. Every muscle ached with the cramped position, and the air became more and more close. Still, I worked on steadily, desperately. How long it was I cannot tell—I never knew.
“I was drawing away the tightly-packed masses of hay, a small bunch at a time, when the air suddenly became perceptibly cooler and sweeter. I dug at the cruel hay wall more furiously. Somewhere beneath me I heard a slight scrambling and rustling, which soon ceased.
“A moment later, my finger-ends struck the rough surface of boards, and, as they did so, a cold, delicious draught of air, like spring-water in a desert, blew upon my hot cheek.
“I felt about eagerly, still seeing nothing, and soon came upon a small hole or interstice, with roughened sides, as if gnawed by some animal, between the edges of two of the boards which formed the partition I had met. It did not take me long, country boy as I was, to reason out the nature of that opening. It was a squirrel’s hole, without doubt the very spot where my bushy-tailed guide had disappeared, as I watched him from behind the stone wall.
“I put my eye to the opening, and looked out. To my astonishment, the stars were shining brightly. Yes, and the moon! By its position in the eastern sky—for it was past the full—I knew at last how long I had been in that hay-mow. It was between twelve and one o’clock, and for eight hours I had been buried, lost, in the hay.
“I say had been, for now I felt quite at ease. No more exploring for me that night! When morning came, I could easily call through my squirrel’s front-door, and the men who came out early to milk would pitch off the hay, and release me.
“The only trouble was hunger and thirst, which, now that I had time to think of them, oppressed me more than ever. Then I remembered those apples. I suppose nothing will ever taste so good as that sour, hard apple did that night. After I had made a bountiful lunch, I enlarged my quarters a little, settled back comfortably, and waited for milking-time.
“That’s all there really is to tell. In due time, the stars faded, one by one; the sky flushed all sorts of lovely roses and pinks; the cattle began to stir about uneasily underneath; a distant door creaked, and heavy boots slowly approached.
“I placed my lips to the crack, and called in a low tone. You see, I didn’t want to rouse all the folks. I knew they wouldn’t be worried, because I had planned to go over to Merritt’s and stop with him that very night.
“Well, ten minutes later I stood on the barn-floor, brushing the hay-seed from my hair and clothes, and stretching my aching limbs. I found the witch-grass had cut my fingers a little, and that was about all the harm that came of it.