Now whether it was that sleep was yet heavy upon him, and bewildered his eyes, or that his imagination had in dreams been busy with foregone horrors, I cannot tell; but, as he peered through the meshes of the crossing and blinding straws, what he seemed to see was the body of an old man with dishevelled hair, whom, prostrate on the ground, they were beating to death with great sticks.His tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, not a sound could he utter, not a finger could he move; he had no choice but to lie still, and witness the fierce enormity.But it is good that we are compelled to see some things, life amongst the rest, to what we call the end of them.By degrees Gibbie's sight cleared; the old man faded away;and what was left of him he could see to be only an armful of straw.
The next sheaf they threw down, he perceived, under their blows, the corn flying out of it, and began to understand a little.When it was finished, the corn that had flown dancing from its home, like hail from its cloud, was swept aside to the common heap, and the straw tossed up on the mound that harboured Gibbie.It was well that the man with the pitchfork did not spy his eyes peering out from the midst of the straw: he might have taken him for some wild creature, and driven the prongs into him.As it was, Gibbie did not altogether like the look of him, and lay still as a stone.Then another sheaf was unbound and cast on the floor, and the blows of the flails began again.It went on thus for an hour and a half, and Gibbie although he dropped asleep several times, was nearly stupid with the noise.The men at length, however, swept up the corn and tossed up the straw for the last time, and went out.Gibbie, judging by his own desires, thought they must have gone to eat, but did not follow them, having generally been ordered away the moment he was seen in a farmyard.He crept out, however, and began to look about him--first of all for something he could eat.The oats looked the most likely, and he took a mouthful for a trial.He ground at them severely, but, hungry as he was, he failed to find oats good for food.Their hard husks, their dryness, their instability, all slipping past each other at every attempt to crush them with his teeth, together foiled him utterly.He must search farther.