me, and with the swiftness of a bird flew past
me along the rails. Less than half a minute passed and the blur had
vanished, the rumble melted away into the noise of the night.

It was an ordinary goods truck. There was nothing peculiar about it in
itself, but its appearance without an engine and in the night puzzled
me. Where could it have come from and what force sent it flying so
rapidly along the rails? Where did it come from and where was it flying
to?

If I had been superstitious I should have made up my mind it was a party
of demons and witches journeying to a devils' sabbath, and should
have gone on my way; but as it was, the phenomenon was absolutely
inexplicable to me. I did not believe my eyes, and was entangled in
conjectures like a fly in a spider's web....

I suddenly realized that I was utterly alone on the whole vast plain;
that the night, which by now seemed inhospitable, was peeping into my
face and dogging my footsteps; all the sounds, the cries of the birds,
the whisperings of the trees, seemed sinister, and existing simply to
alarm my imagination. I dashed on like a madman, and without realizing
what I was doing I ran, trying to run faster and faster. And at once I
heard something to which I had paid no attention before: that is, the
plaintive whining of the telegraph wires.

"This is beyond everything," I said, trying to shame myself. "It's
cowardice! it's silly!"

But cowardice was stronger than common sense. I only slackened my pace
when I reached the green light, where I saw a dark signal-box, and near
it on the embankment the figure of a man, probably the signalman.

"Did you see it?" I asked breathlessly.

"See whom? What?"

"Why, a truck ran by."

"I saw it,..." the peasant said reluctantly. "It broke away from the
goods train. There is an incline at the ninetieth mile...; the train
is dragged uphill. The coupling on the last truck gave way, so it broke
off and ran back.... There is no catching it now!..."

The strange phenomenon was explained and its fantastic character
vanished. My panic was over and I was able to go on my way.

My third fright came upon me as I was going home from stand shooting in
early spring. It was in the dusk of evening. The forest road was covered
with pools from a recent shower of rain, and the earth squelched
under one's feet. The crimson glow of sunset flooded the whole forest,
coloring the white stems of the birches and the young leaves. I was
exha