The grass struck Tom in the face, so that he could hardly keep his seat; but the grasshopper took no notice; he only hurried the faster to the brook to hide himself in the sorrel close to the water. Suddenly, a huge shadow swept over the earth. Tom saw great wings and an open bill. He fell on the ground and the grasshopper disappeared, carried away by a huge shrike. Rolling in the dust in front of the Godmother's hut, Tom saw the great bird sitting on a shrub close to the fence. Holding the poor grasshopper in his bill, he jumped upon the branches, impaled the grasshopper on a sharp thorn and flew away. Pierced by the thorn, the grasshopper struggled to get away buzzing with his wings and kicking his feet desperately in the air, but to no avail. He was held fast by the thorn which was thrust firmly through his breast. Little Tom watched his struggles, breathless with fright. What did it all mean? He thought of the wicked spirits his Godmother had told him about, who carried away those who had done wrong, to torture them. He became more frightened when he thought how he had taken advantage of his Godmother's goodness. He did not doubt in the least that the great winged creature had come for him to transfix him on the thorn, so that he might suffer his punishment and that, only by chance, it had caught the grasshopper instead of himself. He did not know where he was. All about him was bare, hard ground. Crawling up the little step before the door of the hut, he squeezed through a little crack and found himself in a great, dark hall. [Illustration] With a sigh of relief, he thought that, now, he might escape the terrible punishment and that here the flying, wicked spirit could not find him. He did not know that he was in the hall of his Godmother's hut; but it did seem to him to be that of a human dwelling. He went further along the wall, until he found a crack under a door, through which he crawled into the black kitchen. Here it was dark, but far away was shining a great, hot fire on the hearth. Little Tom did not know what this meant. He went through the darkness towards the red light, wading through the dust until he came to the hearth, where, in the mortar, he discovered a little hole. Not minding how the rough mortar cut his hands, he crawled up the broad fireplace under the chimney and stood astonished. Before him was a black plain covered with soot and in the middle was a tripod holding a huge pot, from under which flames darted forth. The fire itself crackled and hissed; sparks were flying through the darkness as big as Tom's head, while clouds of steam rose to the chimney. From under the cover of the pot, came a great noise of sputtering and bubbling, like the quarreling of many angry voices.