The chapter shifts to the first-person perspective of the Scarecrow standing in Harp Oletsky's fallow field. The Scarecrow observes a small herd of antelope returning at sunset, sprinting along the horizon and leaping into the air. The sight triggers a fragmented memory of popcorn popping in a skillet, complete with the smell of butter and salt, hinting at a buried human past.

The Scarecrow reflects on its dawning consciousness. When the farmer names the creatures "antelope," the word unlocks images and a sense of recognition: "Names are spells." The Scarecrow has begun practicing an inner power, recombining recalled shapes into invented ones, such as a winged antelope that, in a dream, carried it to a clearing far from the fallowland.

Watching the herd brings the Scarecrow profound joy that confuses its understanding of its own condition, trapped in a body of straw. It questions whether this state is prison, heaven, or hell. The chapter closes with the Scarecrow longing for human acknowledgment, silently begging Harp—who passes muttering prayers at the ground—to look up and recognize it.