He strode forward into the grain, but was careful not to go too far and
lose his way. As he walked along the edge of the path, he looked at the
grain, thinking that he would like to cut down one of the stalks and
make a good, light lance out of it. While he was trying to select one
that would suit him, he came upon a cobweb stretched between two
thistles. It was beautifully woven of thin, well-tied threads, and
seemed to Tom to be a powerful net which some hunter had placed there as
a trap for wild game.
He wished to see the hunter and learn how game is caught, so he sat down
in some wild thyme not far away and waited; but nothing happened. Then
he got up and went nearer, feeling the lines with his hand to see how
tightly they were drawn. But no sooner had he touched the net than he
felt it shake and saw, running across it, a great, eight-footed
creature, with a cross on its back and horrible jaws, rushing straight
at him.
He drew his sword at once, but a strong, elastic rope was thrown around
his body, binding his hips and legs. He struggled to free himself, but
more and more ropes enveloped him. In a very short time, he was tangled
up in them and tightly bound to the net. Then the great monster darted
at him with his cruel jaws open.
Brave Little Tom waved his sword; this frightened the spider, which drew
back. At once he cut the ropes around him, tore himself out of the net
and ran, beside himself with fear, until he fell rolling on the gravel
in the path. He expected the monster to rush out after him and eat him;
but when the spider saw that his prey had escaped him, he started to
repair his net and paid no further heed to Tom.
Tom was glad to have escaped so easily and no longer wished to go in the
field and cut down a stalk. He went back very rapidly along the path,
deciding that he would remain near the hut. He wanted to see his
Godmother's farm, so he passed through the gate to the little grassy
place beyond among the daisies and dandelions. As soon as he reached the
spot, a lot of little yellow chickens came running to him and, gathering
around him, looked at him with surprised eyes; for that kind of a worm
these little chicks had never seen before.
Little Tom was frightened, for these birds appeared to him as large as
the ostriches his Godmother had shown him in the natural history book,
only they were yellow. The chickens looked at him sideways, peeping and
calling the mother hen. She was scratching in some sweepings not far
away and when she heard the peeping, she hurried up, all a flutter, to
see what was the matter and who the enemy was. When she saw only Little
Tom, she pecked at him angrily with her bill, then picked him up, but
let him drop as he did not seem good for eating. Scolding her chicks,
she drove them away in search of real worms.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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