The last few weeks constitute my entire experience with the country, and I'm in mortal fear that snakes will drop from trees and bushes or spring from the ground.

Some places I think I'm sinking, and whenever a bush catches my skirts it seems as if something dreadful is reaching up for me; there is a possibility of horror lurking behind every tree and----" "Stop!" cried the Harvester.

"I can't endure it! Do you mean to tell me that you are afraid here and now ?" She met his eyes squarely.
"Yes," she said.

"It almost makes me ill to sit on this log without taking a stick and poking all around it first.

Every minute I think something is going to strike me in the back or drop on my head." The Harvester grew very white beneath the tan, and that developed a nice, sickly green complexion for him.
"Am I part of your tortures ?" he asked tersely.
"Why shouldn't you be ?" she answered.