{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48763/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48763","id":"gutenberg_48763","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48763","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Giants"],"text":"Transcriber's Notes: Variations in spelling and hyphenation have\nbeen left as in the original. Words in italics in the original are\nsurrounded with _underscores_. Ellipses match the original. A row of\nasterisks represents a thought break.\n\n\n                       _THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE_\n\n\n\n\n                           A BOOK OF GIANTS\n\n                            [Illustration]\n\n\n                       _THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE_\n\n\n\n\n                           A BOOK OF GIANTS\n\n                    TALES OF VERY TALL MEN OF MYTH,\n                     LEGEND, HISTORY, AND SCIENCE\n\n                                  BY\n\n                          HENRY WYSHAM LANIER\n    AUTHOR OF \"A BOOK OF BRAVERY,\" \"THE ROMANCE OF PISCATOR,\" ETC.\n\n                            [Illustration]\n\n    \"_And there we saw giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the\n    giants: and we were in our sight as grasshoppers, and so we\n    were in their sight._\"--NUMBERS: xiii, 33.\n\n                               NEW YORK\n                        E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY\n                           681 FIFTH AVENUE\n\n\n\n\n                            Copyright, 1922\n                       By E. P. Dutton & Company\n\n                         _All Rights Reserved_\n\n\n                PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\nACKNOWLEDGMENT\n\n\nThanks are due to the Frederick A. Stokes Company for permission to\nuse, in Part III, three tales from volumes published by them: Chapter\nXX, The Biter Bit, from \"Hero Tales and Legends of the Serbians,\" by\nVojislav M. Petrovic; Chapter XXI, The Peach's Son, from \"Myths and\nLegends of Japan,\" by F. Hadland Davis; and Chapter XXIII, The Stone\nGiantess, from \"The Myths of the North American Indians,\" by Lewis\nSpence.\n\nIn a number of cases the text of the original romance or \"history\" has\nbeen followed as closely as possible, to retain the flavor of the old\ntales.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  PART I. GIANTS OF THE MORNING OF THE WORLD\n\n  CHAPTER                                                   PAGE\n      I. HOW ZEUS FOUGHT WITH TITANS AND GIANTS               3\n\n     II. THE GIANT WHO SHINES IN THE SKY                     18\n\n    III. THE OUTWITTING OF POLYPHEMUS                        46\n\n     IV. WHEN THOR WENT TO JOTUNHEIM                         68\n\n      V. THE GIANT PYRAMID-BUILDER                           90\n\n     VI. THE FATAL PRIDE OF VUKUB                            95\n\n    VII. OG, KING OF BASHAN                                 102\n\n   VIII. A SON OF ANAK                                      108\n\n\n  PART II. IN THE DAYS OF ROMANCE\n\n     IX. FERRAGUS, WHO OWNED THE BRAZEN HEAD                119\n\n      X. THE GIANT OF ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT                   128\n\n     XI. SIR LAUNCELOT AND TARQUIN                          146\n\n    XII. THE ADVENTURES OF YVAIN                            161\n\n   XIII. THE TURKE AND GAWAIN                               191\n\n    XIV. AMADIS AMONG THE GIANTS                            202\n\n     XV. GOGMAGOG                                           216\n\n    XVI. THE GIANT BEHIND THE WATERFALL                     235\n\n   XVII. THE ONE GOOD GIANT: ST. CHRISTOPHER                244\n\n\n  PART III. NURSERY TALES OF MANY LANDS\n\n  XVIII. THE GIANT HAND (IRISH)                             255\n\n    XIX. THE GIANT WHO HAD NO HEART IN HIS BODY (NORSE)     265\n\n     XX. THE BITER BIT (SERBIAN)                            275\n\n    XXI. THE PEACH'S SON (JAPANESE)                         290\n\n   XXII. THE MAN WHO LOST HIS LEGS (KOREAN)                 295\n\n  XXIII. THE STONE GIANTESS (NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN)         299\n\n\n  PART IV. SOME REAL GIANTS\n\n   XXIV. SOME REAL GIANTS                                   305\n\n    XXV. WHAT SCIENCE HAS LEARNED ABOUT GIANTS              315\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\n_Man in his youth was so fond of giants that, not finding them large\nor plentiful enough, he created a bounteous supply. He gave them\nprecedence of himself. In the frozen North they came even before the\ngods: in the East, after the celestials but before the creation of the\nworld; in Greece they sprang into being just after the Olympians and\nfiercely disputed the sovereignty of Zeus._\n\n_Many ancient gods were vast in size: witness, for instance, the\ncolossal statues of Egypt, China or the South Seas. But the palm for\nbigness must go to those giant beings whom we find amid Chaos in the\nEast: like that Tiamat from whom the Babylonian god Bel formed heavens\nand earth; and Purushu of the Hindu Vedas, whose severed head was\nsufficient for making the sky, his feet for the earth, his eye for the\nsun, and his mind for the moon._\n\n_Somehow, these are too large; nowadays one can hardly digest a giant\nlike that. Even those huge and terrible beings with bodies of stone\nwho once descended upon the Iroquois Indians seem more like Djinn or\nRakshasas: they do not fascinate as does that monstrous black warder of\nthe bridge at Mantrible, who was fifteen feet tall with \"tuskes like a\nbore\" and head \"like a liberde.\"_\n\n_The scholars quarrel over the question whether or not the very word\noriginally meant \"earth-born\"; but be that as it may, the giants\nexhibited in these pages (collected after wider search than even Mr.\nBarnum ever prosecuted for such prodigies) are all creatures of earth,\nat least in part. Their feet are on the earth, even if like Og, King\nof Bashan, their heads tower high enough to drink straight from the\nclouds._\n\n_They all have a semblance of human beings, as they should. If this\nseems doubtful remember Ea-Bani. His story is certainly the first to\nbe put on record, for it was baked in clay at least 2500 years ago,\nthe twelve tablets being found among King Assur-bani-pal's library at\nNineveh. Ea-bani was a huge giant, who lived with the wild animals, and\nwho defied every attempt to capture him--until King Gilgamesh abandoned\nforce and sent a very beautiful woman to stand quietly near one of the\nhairy creature's lurking places. At first sight of her the colossal\nwild man falls in love; accompanies her meekly back to civilization:\nand, giving up his beloved forest, takes a humble second part in the\nsubsequent stirring adventures of the King. No doubt about the human\nnature of that!_\n\n_Considering that he made them, it does seem as if man had been\nsomewhat unfair to the giants. In the beginning, they won enduring\nglory: Typhon conquered Zeus in hand-to-hand fight and drove the other\ngods to wander over Egypt disguised as animals; even Atlas had at least\nthe dignity of holding up the heavens upon his head and hands forever.\nThe Frost-giants more than once outwitted Thor and the other dwellers\nin Valhalla; and but the other day, historically speaking, Gargantua\ncould swallow five pilgrims as a salad._\n\n_But what a humiliating portion has been allotted to the successors of\nthese awe-inspiring monsters. First they made gods tremble; then they\nwere slain by demigods and heroes; next they became a measure of the\nprowess of every knight of chivalry; presently they were the sport of\nthe childish Jack the Giant-killer;--and now for a hundred years we\nhave relegated them to our circuses and museums. Worst of all, the wise\nmen insist that \"giantism\" is merely a disease._\n\n_It really isn't quite fair. Besides the inconvenience of being a\ngiant--just think of the difficulty of getting enough to eat and\nclothes to wear--what a disgrace to have one's head inevitably cut off\nby some little whipper-snapper up to one's waist or knees. And then to\nbe such a by-word for stupidity. Amycus, who used to kill each newcomer\nwith a single blow, was at once dispatched by Polydeuces, the skilful\nboxer: that sort of an awkward ineffectiveness was bad enough; but\nwhat of Polyphemus, who had not sense enough to explain to his Cyclop\nbrethren the transparent trick of Ulysses in calling himself \"Noman\"?\nOne can't help feeling sorry for such helpless hulks._\n\n_And perhaps the unkindest cut of all is the true tale related by\nPatin, the famous French surgeon. \"In the Seventeenth Century, in order\nto gratify a whim of the Empress of Austria, all the giants and dwarfs\nin the Germanic empire were assembled at Vienna. As circumstances\nrequired that all should be housed in one building, it was feared that\nthe imposing proportions of the giants should terrify the dwarfs; and\nmeans were taken to assure the latter that they were perfectly safe.\nBut the result was most unexpected. The dwarfs teased, insulted and\neven robbed the giants to such an extent that the latter complained in\ntears to the officials; and sentinels had to be stationed to protect\nthem from their tiny comrades.\"_\n\n_However, the fascination of these Very Tall Men still continues. And\nthese tales relate to the adventures of some of the famous of all ages\nand all lands._\n\n_Those lovers of the colorful old days, who mourn the departure of\nthe giants before the sceptical eye of science and the camera, may be\ncomforted to learn that in the rugged country of Northern Scotland the\nfolk are better informed than we. There where Sutherland rocks meet\nthe sea, east from Cape Wrath, the wise ancients will tell you that\nthe giants are not really all dead, but only sleeping in the great\nHall of Albyn. In proof whereof, know that a man of these parts once\nventured into a great cave by the sea-shore. It opened to a vast and\nlofty apartment, where there were many huge men lying fast asleep on\nthe stone floor. In the center of the room was a table, on which lay\nan ancient horn. The man put the horn to his lips and blew one blast.\nThe enormous figures stirred. He blew a second time. One of the giants\nrubbed his eyes and said in a voice that rumbled through the cave:_\n\n\"_If you blow once more, we shall wake._\"\n\n_The man fled in terror. Though by singular bad luck he could never\nagain find the mouth of that cave, it is something to know that our\ntall friends are there, only waiting for three bold blasts to return to\nus._\n\n\n\n\nPART I\n\nGIANTS OF THE MORNING OF THE WORLD\n\n\n\n\nA BOOK OF GIANTS\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nHOW ZEUS FOUGHT WITH TITANS AND GIANTS\n\n\nWe think of Zeus as the mightiest god of Greece, accompanied by his\nservants Force, Might and Victory,--the Cloud-gatherer, the Rain-giver,\nthe Thunderer, the Lightning-hurler, the Sender of Prodigies, the\nGuider of Stars, the Ruler of other gods and men, whom even Poseidon\nthe Earth-shaker must obey. The very name reverberates with majesty,\npower, dominion.\n\nBut the beginnings of this vast deity were in darkness and danger.\n\nTrue, the reign of his father Kronos was that Golden Age when, in the\nfresh morning of the world, \"Heat and Cold were not yet at strife, the\nSeasons had not begun their mystic dance, and one mild and equable\nclimate stretched from pole to pole; when the trees bore fruit and\nthe vine her purple clusters all the year, and honey-dew dripped from\nthe laurel and juniper which are now so bitter; when flowers of every\nhue filled the air with perpetual fragrance, the lion gambolled with\nthe kid, and the unfanged serpent was as harmless as the dove\"; when\nover-curious Pandora not yet having released her boxful of ills, men\nhad neither care nor sickness nor old age, but, after centuries of\nblissful calm, faded like flowers and became kindly spirit-guardians of\ntheir successors.\n\nYet amid this charming serenity Kronos could never forget the curse\nof his father Uranus whom he had overthrown, and the prophecy that he\nhimself should in his turn be cast down by his own children.\n\n\"Wherefore being resolved to defeat that prophecy, he swallowed each\nchild his wife Rhea brought forth, as soon as it was born. When\nRhea had thus lost five babes,--Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades and\nPoseidon--and knew herself about to bear yet another, she made her\nprayer to Uranus her ancient sire, imploring counsel and aid.\n\n\"But only a faint, vast murmur thrilled through the sky:\n\n\"'_My voice is but the voice of winds and tides, no more than winds\nand tides can I avail. Pray thou to thy puissant Mother: in me,\ndispossessed of godhead, is no succor more._'\"\n\nSo the Titaness betook her to Earth, and the mighty Mother gave her\ncounsel how to outwit grim Kronos. And Rhea fled through the swift,\ndark night to a secret thicket upon a hill of Arcadia. There was born a\nmighty babe, whom she called Zeus. At her prayer Mother Earth smote the\nmountain, and there gushed forth a bounding stream, in which she laved\nthe infant. Then she gave him to the nymph Neda who bore him swiftly\nacross the sea to Crete, hiding him in a cave upon a dense and wooded\nmountain named Ida.\n\nShe entrusted the child to Adrastea and Ida, nymphs of the mountain,\nto be reared in secret. But Rhea took a huge stone and wrapped it in\nswathes, and brought it to Kronos, then sovereign of the gods, saying:\n\"Behold, I have borne my lord another son.\"\n\n\"Naught said he, but snatched the stone and greedily swallowed it,\nnothing doubting that it was the new-born child. Thus his wife deceived\nhim, for all his cunning.\"\n\nRhea might not so much as see her babe, lest Kronos should spy her\nfrom his throne on high; but the child throve, laid in a golden\nwinnowing-fan for a good omen, tended by the gentle nymphs, and\nnourished on the wild honey they gathered for him and on the milk of\na mountain goat. Around him danced the fierce Curetes, Earth-born\nwarriors, who performed their war-dances, rattling and clashing their\nweapons whenever the infant cried, lest Kronos should overhear him.\n\n\"So the child Zeus increased daily in beauty and stature, nor was it\nlong before he gave proof of his godhead in wondrous wise. Two years\nhis goat foster-mother suckled him: snow-white she was, with jet black\nhorns and hooves, the most beauteous of her kind, and her name was\nAmalthea. Then, on a day, while the young god played with her after\nhis wont, he grasped one of her curved horns as she made pretence of\nbutting, and broke it clean off.\n\n\"Tears stood in the creature's eyes, and she looked reproachfully on\nher fosterling. But the little god ran to her and threw his arms about\nher shaggy neck, bidding her be comforted, for he would make amends;\nwith that he laid his right hand on the goat's head, and immediately a\nnew horn sprouted full-grown. And he took up the horn he had broken,\nand gave it to the nymphs, saying, 'Kindly nurses, in recompense of\nyour care, Zeus gives you Amalthea's Horn which shall be to you a horn\nof plenty. As for her, when I come into my kingdom, I will be mindful\nof my foster-mother; she shall not die but be changed into one of the\nbright signs of Heaven.' Thus Zeus promised, and fulfilled his word in\nthe aftertime, for faithful and true are the promises of the Immortals.\nBut when the nymphs had taken the Horn of Amalthea, behold they found\nit brimful of all manner of luscious fruits, of the finest wheat flour,\nand sweet butter, and golden honeycomb. They shook all out, laughing\nin delight, and one cried: 'Here were a feast for the gods, had we but\nwine thereto!' No sooner said she this than the Horn bubbled over with\nruby wine; for this was the magic in it, that it never grew empty, and\nyielded its possessors whatsoever food or drink they desired.\n\n\"Now when Earth saw that Zeus was come to the prime of his mighty\nyouth, she sent to him one of the daughters of Oceanus named Metis,\nwhich is, being interpreted, 'Counsel.' And Metis came and stood before\nhim in the Idaean Mount and said: 'I have an errand unto thee, O king\nthat shalt be hereafter.'\n\n\"And Zeus said: 'Is it a foe's errand, or a friend's? Who sent thee\nhither, and who art thou?'\n\n\"And she said: 'Metis is my name, a daughter of Oceanus the old, and\nmy errand is from Earth, the All-Mother. She bids thee take this herb\nI bring and go straight to Kronos in his golden house on high; tell\nhim not who or whence thou art, but cause him to swallow the herb\nunweeting, and it shall work mischief to him and good to thee. Delay\nnot, for the hour is at hand when Kronos must pay full measure for the\noutrage he did his sire, as it is ordained.'\n\n\"'Tell me,' said Zeus, 'how knows Earth that such an hour is at hand,\nand by whom is the vengeance ordained?'\n\n\"Metis answered: 'There are Three Sisters, daughters of Primeval\nNight, Grey Virgins, older than Time, who sit forever in the shades\nof underground, spinning threads of divers colors from their golden\ndistaffs; and the threads are the lives of gods and men. As the sisters\ntwine them, sad-hued or bright, so is the lot of each living soul,\nmortal or immortal; there is none among the gods, nor shall be, that\nmay escape the lot spun for him, nor avail to turn those spinners from\ntheir task. Hasting not, resting not, without knowledge, without pity,\nthe Three Fates work on. But as they twirl the spindles, they sing the\nSong of the Morrow; and Earth, she only, understands that song; hence\nit is she knows what is coming upon Kronos.'\n\n\"Then Zeus arose and went up to the heavenly palace halls; there he\nfound Kronos feasting, and quaffing honey-colored nectar, wine of the\ngods. Kronos asked him who he was, and Zeus answered: 'I am Prometheus,\nson of Iapetus thy brother, who greets thee well by me.' Then Kronos\nbade him welcome, and they drank and caroused together. But when they\nhad well drunk, Zeus put the herb of Earth into his father's cup,\nunmarked of him.\n\n\"And Kronos no sooner swallowed it than a marvel past thought befell;\nfor he disgorged from his giant maw first the stone Rhea gave him\n(which stone was ever afterwards preserved as a pious memorial at\nDelphi) and then her two sons and daughters three, no longer babes but\nfull-grown.\n\n\"Forthwith Zeus made himself known to his brethren, and the young gods\nseized their father and bound him in chains. But ancient Kronos cried\nfor aid to his Titan kindred, with a voice like the tempest's roar; and\nthey came swiftly in their might; and the young gods could not stand\nbefore them, but fled out of heaven to the cloudy top of Mount Olympus,\nthat great peak robed in eternal snows.\"\n\nThere they abode as in a citadel, and thence it is that Zeus and the\nfamily of Zeus are called \"the Olympians\" to this day.\n\nThe Titans occupied Mt. Othrys to the south, and the broad plains of\nThessaly in between show even yet the shattered rocks and rent surface\nfrom the struggle which ensued.\n\n\"For now there was war in heaven; ten years the Elder Gods fought\nagainst the Olympians and neither side could win the mastery. But one\namongst the Titans would not fight against Zeus; for being endued with\nwisdom and foresight about all gods, he perceived that the day of\nKronos must shortly have an end and his sceptre pass to another. This\nwas Prometheus, whom Asia, daughter of Oceanus, bore to Iapetus, son of\nEarth. Fain would he have dissuaded his father and brother from taking\narms in a lost cause, and for the sake of one who, himself a usurper,\nmust now reap as he had sown; but they would not heed, trusting in\ntheir own giant strength.\n\n\"At last Zeus sought counsel of Mother Earth and she spake this oracle\nunto him out of the cave that is in rocky Pytho--'_He that will conquer\nin this strife, let him set free the captives in Tartarus_.' For Earth\nhad long borne Kronos a grudge, because he would not release the\nHundred-handed and the Cyclopes from that abyss of darkness; therefore\nshe willingly revealed to Zeus the secret of victory. But naught knew\nhe of those giants or their fate, nor so much as the name of Tartarus,\nwhich none among the heaven-dwelling gods will utter for very loathing;\nso the saying of Earth was dark to him, and he was much disheartened.\nThen Prometheus, knowing what had befallen, came to Zeus on Olympus\nand said: 'Son of Kronos, though fight I may not against my kin, fight\nagainst thee I will not, for that were idle folly, seeing the Fates\nwill have thee Lord of all. Let there be peace between me and thee, and\nI will interpret the oracle Earth has given thee.'\n\n\"And Zeus heard him gladly, and said: 'For this good turn, count me thy\ndebtor and fast friend evermore.'\n\n\"Then straightway they two fared through the Underworld to the gates\nof unplumbed Tartarus, where by the Titan's aid Zeus slew the snake\nCamp\u00e9, their grisly warder, and delivered the captives.\"\n\nAnd amazed was the leader of the younger gods at the sight of\nthese monstrous first children of Earth. For each of the three\nHundred-handed, Briareus, Cottus and Gyges, had moving ever from his\nshoulders a hundred arms, not brooking approach, while above this\nthreatening display rose fifty heads. As for the Cyclopes, Brontes,\nSteropes and Arges, they resembled the Titans, save that each had a\nsingle round eye in the centre of his forehead. They had shown from\nbirth such overbearing spirit and terrific strength, tossing whole\nhills with their forests about like balls, that even Uranus had feared\nthem and thrust them into Tartarus ere they were grown.\n\nZeus rejoiced at these mighty allies. But fell fighters as they were,\ntheir greatest aid was not in their strength but their skill. For the\nCyclopes made themselves a smithy in the glowing heart of Mt. \u00c6tna, and\nthere they wrought such gifts for their deliverers as only they could\nfashion. To Poseidon they gave his trident with prongs of adamant; and\nto Hades a cap of darkness whose wearer was invisible to gods and men;\nwhile for Zeus himself they forged the kingliest weapons of all: the\nthunderbolts and the blasting, zig-zagged lightning.\n\nThen Zeus set before them all the nectar and ambrosia of the gods, and\naddressed them:\n\n\"Hear me, illustrious children of Earth and Heaven, that I may speak\nwhat my spirit within my breast prompts me to speak. For a very long\ntime have we been fighting for the mastery, the Titan gods and we who\nare sprung from Kronos. Now show your invincible might against the\nTitans, in gratitude for your deliverance to the light from bondage in\nmurky gloom.\"\n\nThe blameless Cottus answered: \"Excellent Lord, we are aware that thy\nwisdom is most high, and thy mind, and that thou hast been to the\nimmortals an averter of destruction. Wherefore we will now protect thy\ndominion in fell conflict, fighting stoutly against the Titans.\"\n\nAnd all the gods applauded, female as well as male, and they rushed to\ncombat. The Titans on their side were no less eager, and as the battle\njoined, the boundless sea re-echoed terribly, and earth resounded,\nand broad heavens groaned as it shook, and vast Olympus swayed on its\nbase, and even to murky Tartarus came the hollow sound of feet and\nbattle-strokes. And as the two sides came together, their great war-cry\nreached to the starry heaven above.\n\nNow Zeus loosed his fury, and the bolts with thunder and lightning\nshot so fast and fiercely from his mighty hand that earth crashed in\nconflagration, and the forests crackled with fire; ocean's streams\nbegan to boil, while the vapor encircled the Titans, and the incessant,\ndazzling flashes bereft their eyes of sight, gods as they were.\n\nFearful heat spread everywhere, and it seemed as if earth and heaven\nwere clashing together and falling into ruins. At the same time the\nwinds spread abroad smoke and battle-cry and crash of missiles, as the\nHundred-handed, insatiable in war, advanced, hurling three hundred vast\nrocks at a time against the enemy.\n\nBefore this combination of terrors even the Titans could not stand.\nThey were dashed from their battlements and fell like shooting stars\nnine days and nights to earth, then on down for nine days and nights\nmore to Tartarus. Here were they bound and cast into that dismal abyss,\nbehind a triple brazen wall built by Poseidon, around which Night is\npoured in three rows. And the Hundred-handed were set to guard them.\n\nKronos and a few others escaped to the North, and there made head for\na time, sheltered against Zeus's thunderbolts in caverns of the hills.\nBut there came to the Olympians two mighty twin Shapes, Force and\nMight, followed by their sister, beauteous-ankled Victory (from whose\nshoulders waved great eagle's wings)--all children of Styx; and those\ntwo illustrious ones announced to Zeus that henceforth they were his\nservants, and that their sister, Victory, would ever follow them.\n\nSo with these ministers, Zeus went forth once more; and the remainder\nof the Titans fled westward beyond the utmost limits of earth. But huge\nAtlas, brother of Prometheus, was overtaken, and him Zeus stationed\non the very verge of the earth, before the clear-voiced Hesperides,\nsentencing him to bear forever on his shoulders the weight of the vast\nsky.\n\nHaving thus achieved the victory, Zeus gave to Hades dominion over the\nUnderworld, to Poseidon the Sea, and took himself the realm of the\n\u00c6ther and the Earth, rewarding all those who had assisted him, and\nespecially honoring Styx, mother of Force, Might and Victory, so that\nthenceforth the most sacred and inviolable oath for an immortal was to\nswear by Styx.\n\nMother Earth was far from pleased at this outcome. Her imprisoned\nfirst-born children had been released only to have her other beautiful\nTitan sons and daughters take their places in Tartarus. In revenge\nshe brought forth a brood of Giants to war with the young gods. These\nwere huge and invincible creatures with ghastly faces and long, thick,\nmatted hair hanging from their heads and chins; instead of feet they\nhad scaly dragon's tails. Their birth-place was in Phlegra or Pallene.\nThe most redoubtable among them were Porphyrion and Alcyoneus. The\nlatter was immortal so long as he fought on the same part of the earth\non which he was born, and he soon distinguished himself by carrying off\nthe cattle of the Sun and Moon.\n\nWith these and their brethren--Enceladus, Pallas, Clytius, Polybotes,\nHippolytus and others--were joined Otus and Ephialtes, children of\nPoseidon, who, says Homer, grew nine inches every month, and who when\nthey were only nine years old had captured war-god Mars himself and\nheld him prisoner more than a year.\n\nNow the oracle revealed to the gods that the giants could be destroyed\nonly in combat with a mortal. G\u00e6a (Earth) had learned this, and sought\nby means of magic herbs to make her offspring invulnerable also to\nmortals.\n\nBut Zeus anticipated her: he forbade the Dawn, the Moon and the Sun\nto shine, cut off the medicinal herbs with which Earth had plastered\nher offspring, and sent Athena to summon Heracles to take part in the\ncombat.\n\nThis savage group of Giants then attacked the Olympians, hurling great\nmasses of rock, tree-trunks lashed together, and blazing brands against\nthe sky. But the distance was too great for them to do much damage, so\nthey tried to scale Heaven itself. When their trees fastened together\nproved too short, Otus and Ephialtes set about another attempt:\nupsetting Mt. Ossa they began to roll it toward Mt. Olympus, intending\nto pile the lofty peak of Pelion on that, and thus reach their enemies.\n\nThen Zeus rose in his majesty. With a thunderbolt he hurled the\nmountain back to its former place, the Olympians all dashed down,\nriding on the winds, and a mighty battle followed which lasted a whole\nday.\n\nHeracles drew his great death-dealing bow and slew Alcyoneus with an\narrow. But as soon as he touched the earth he rose with renewed life\nand strength. Whereupon wise Athena counseled the hero to grasp the\nmonster by the foot and drag him out of Pallene, his birthplace. He did\nso, and Alcyoneus died.\n\nAt this Porphyrion in hot rage hurled the island of Delos at Zeus and\nrushed upon Heracles and Hera. As the giant laid hold of the goddess's\nswathing veils, she cried out for help, and the thunderbolt of Zeus and\nHeracles' arrow smote Porphyrion simultaneously.\n\nAs for the rest, Apollo shot out the left eye of Ephialtes, and\nHeracles the right. Dionysus killed Eurytus with his sacred wand,\nwhile Clytius was thrust through by Hecate or Heph\u00e6stus with glowing\nironstone. Enceladus fled across the sea, but Athena seized a great\ntriangle of rock and cast it upon him--and when trees and soil formed\non this, it was called the island of Sicily.\n\nAs Virgil's wandering hero, \u00c6neas, sings:\n\n    Here, while from Aetna's furnaces the flame\n    Bursts forth, Enceladus, 'tis said, doth lie,\n    Scorched by the lightning. As his wearied frame\n    He shifts, Trinacria, trembling at the cry\n    Moans through her shores, and smoke involves the sky.\n\nAthena, terrible in her battle-wrath, next killed and flayed Pallas and\nput his skin over her own body while the combat lasted,--whence comes\nher name of Pallas Athene. Polybotes, chased by Poseidon over the sea,\ncame to Cos; here the sea-god tore off a piece of the island and buried\nhim under it, where now is Nisyron.\n\nHermes, concealed by the helmet of Hades, killed Hippolytus, while\nArtemis slew Gration. So the Fates ended Agrius and Thoon with brazen\nclubs. The rest Zeus crushed with thunderbolts, and Heracles finished\nwith his deadly arrows.\n\nThen in hot wrath Earth brought forth the most terrific monster yet\nseen. Typhon was he called, the greatest of Earth's children, half man\nand half animal: he was human to the loins and was so huge that he\ntowered over the mountains while his head knocked against the stars.\nHis outstretched arms reached from sunrise to sunset, and a hundred\ndragon heads shot from his shoulders. Instead of legs he moved on\nvast, rustling snaky coils; his whole body was feathered; bristly hair\nfloated in the wind from his head and chin, and fire streamed from his\neyes.\n\nSuch a monster was Typhon.\n\nHurling clusters of rocks up at heaven, he ran with hisses and screams,\nwhile a red mass of flame bubbled from his mouth.\n\nWhen the gods saw him charge on heaven, they fled to Egypt, where they\nwandered about in the shapes of animals, pursued by him.\n\nZeus hurled thunderbolts as long as he was afar off. When he came\nnearer, the god's iron sickle made him flee, and Zeus pursued him to\nthe Caucasus that towers over Syria. There he came up with him, covered\nwith wounds, and joined in a hand-to-hand grapple.\n\nBut Typhon held him off, wrapping his snaky limbs around him, snatched\naway the sickle, and cutting out the sinews of the god's hands and\nfeet, put him on his shoulders and carried him across the sea to\nCilicia.\n\nHere in a cavern he threw him down, put away the sinews wrapped in a\nbear-skin, and set as a guard over the helpless god, Delphyne, a young\nshe-dragon, half human, half animal.\n\nBut cunning Hermes stole away the sinews and secretly replaced them in\nZeus's wrists and ankles. Then Zeus gathered himself together, and his\nformer powers came upon him, and he rose to his seat in heaven in a\ncar drawn by winged horses.\n\nAgain he hurled his thunderbolts upon Typhon and pursued the monstrous\ngiant to Mt. Nysa, where the Fates outwitted the fugitive: for,\npersuaded by them that he would thereby get greater powers, he ate of\nthe ephemeral poison fruits.\n\nThen the chase became more furious. They came to Thrace where Typhon\nfought with whole peaks of the Hamus Mountains; and when these were\nhurled back on him by the Thunderer, his blood gushed out over them so\nthat these are called the \"bloody mountains\" to this day.\n\nAnd at last, as Typhon was compelled to flee across the Sicilian sea,\nZeus threw the towering mountain of \u00c6tna on top of him and buried him\nthere forever. Here he lies still, turning and groaning at times, while\nfires blaze up from the hurled lightnings.\n\nAfter that there was nobody in heaven, earth or the underworld who\ndared dispute the supreme dominion of Zeus.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE GIANT WHO SHINES IN THE SKY\n\n\nIn the days when the Olympians still walked at times among men, Zeus\nand Poseidon and Hermes once found themselves benighted in a lonely\nregion of the rough B\u0153otian country.\n\nAs darkness fell, they passed a little hut by the roadside. The farmer\nstood in the doorway, enjoying the cool of the evening after his day's\ntoil; and seeing the wayfarers plodding along, he invited them in to\npass the night.\n\n\"My house is poor enough,\" said he, \"but such as it is, it is yours.\"\n\nThe three gods entered. The farmer, Hyrieus by name, set food and drink\nbefore them, waited upon them, gave up his own pallet to make them\ncomfortable and entertained these nameless wanderers like distinguished\nguests, all with the utmost simplicity and good feeling.\n\nThe Olympians were touched by this rough herdsman's fine hospitality.\nThey consulted together in whispers when they had finished their meal.\n\nThen: \"Is there anything you wish for, host?\" enquired Hermes as\nspokesman.\n\nHyrieus started. \"Well,\" said he, \"of course there is, but that's past\nmending.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" persisted Hermes.\n\n\"I had a wife,\" said the herdsman, \"whom I loved so that when she died\nI vowed never to marry again. So all these years I have lived alone,\nand alone I shall live till the end. Yet a man cannot help wishing for\na son to drive away the loneliness of the winter evenings and to be a\nprop to him in his old age. Probably you will laugh at me for a foolish\nperson: for I mean to keep my vow, and yet I wish for a son.\"\n\n\"Those who know do not laugh at honesty,\" replied Hermes. \"And I say\nto you that he who gives all freely never fails to receive. I noticed\nthat you killed your only ox to provide meat for our meal: bring me his\nhide.\"\n\nHyrieus stared at him, doubtful. He feared he was being made the butt\nof some jest. But the stranger's open smile promised something quite\ndifferent. Much wondering, he went out into the darkness and after\na while returned with the hide of the ox which he had sacrificed to\nhospitality. He did not regret the act, but he could not help thinking\nof the morrow as he handled the still warm skin of this faithful\ncompanion and servant. What would he do without its aid? And what did\nthis mysterious person mean by his odd request? He spoke as a man\nhaving authority, however, and there was nothing for it save to obey\nand see what might befall.\n\nHermes took the hide, and bade him fetch a spade. The three mysterious\nvisitors went out into the night. Hyrieus, peering out after them, saw\nthem bury the ox skin in front of his house, with strange and secret\nceremonies. Without knowing why, he trembled. He trembled still more\nwhen they returned, for the strangers seemed to have become suddenly\nmajestic, awe-inspiring.\n\nThe bearded one, who had not spoken hitherto, looked solemnly upon the\nherdsman. Instinctively the B\u0153otian fell into an attitude of worship.\n\n\"You shall have your wish,\" announced this one, in tones that filled\nthe low-raftered room like a mighty wind. \"Next spring you shall have a\nson--and such a son as mortal never yet had.\"\n\nThe three retired for the night. When Hyrieus woke, as usual, with the\ndawn, they had disappeared. He went about his labors, sorely increased\nby the loss of his ox, pondering deeply on what had occurred. Many\na time he looked at the little patch of freshly-turned earth, but\nsomething forbade him to investigate. And then the fall rains came and\nobliterated the spot; and the winter snows covered all; and everything\nwas as it had been, save for the insistent recollection in the farmer's\nheart. Many times he laughed at his folly; yet in the still evenings as\nhe sat before his fire, he knew that he expected--something.\n\nWinter passed at length. Spring painted the hills with yellow and white\nand pink blossoms. And its soft unfolding promises seemed to reinforce\nthat secret hope, which defied reason, and which persisted in the heart\nof Hyrieus. As he sat outdoors in the long twilight evenings, instead\nof crouching close to his scanty fire, every sound of the reawakening\nearth had a new meaning. Even the still white calm of snow-capped\nParnassus, far to the west, seemed to presage some great happening. For\nthe first time since his youth he really heard the shrill voices of the\nfrogs in the neighboring marsh: it was as if even these tiny creatures\nwere repeating the promise made him by his mysterious visitors. And\nthen he would smile sadly at his senile credulity and, remembering the\nreality of the morrow's hard work, would plod stiffly into his solitary\nhut and seek on his pallet bed that dream land where all things are\npossible.\n\nOne morning he rose with even more than his usual reluctance to\nexchange for the hard grubbing reality the vague but delightful fancies\nwhich had filled the night. Force of habit made him swallow a few\nmouthfuls of his coarse breakfast. Mechanically he stepped outside\ntowards the day's work that awaited him.\n\nThe sun was just rising over the low ridge that thrust itself into the\nbend of the Asopus River. Instinctively his gaze went towards the spot\nwhere the strange trio had performed their mysterious rites, past which\ngurgled a little stream.\n\nHe stopped short, startled out of his dreamy reverie. His eyes rounded\nin astonishment.\n\nThat spot of earth had remained bare, though all around it the lush\ngrass and many-colored flowers had woven an intricate tapestry. It was\nthis strange fact which had continually reinforced his wonder and his\nsuperstitious belief.\n\nBut overnight a sudden transformation had taken place. The whole space\nwas one mass of asphodels in full bloom. The sun's level rays fell upon\ntheir white blossoms, amid which the meandering threads of crimson\nlooked like blazing hieroglyphics.\n\nHyrieus looked in bewilderment, mixed with a kind of awe. Slowly he\nadvanced towards this bed of blossoms which had appeared so suddenly.\nThen he cried out.\n\nFor there, cradled in the asphodels, lay a babe--such a child as his\neyes had never yet beheld. Shapely and beautiful, and of such size as\nmade one think of the Heroes of legend, he slept peacefully.\n\nOvercoming his timidity at last, Hyrieus gently picked up the sleeping\ninfant. When the big blue eyes opened and a sleepy smile came over the\nchild's face, the honest farmer's heart overflowed with joy at this\nrealization of his wildest dreams. Marveling again at the weight of his\nburden, he took this earth-born son into his cottage, laid him on his\nown bed, and sat watching his slumber in a sort of ecstacy. From that\ntime he was father and mother both to the child, carrying it with him\nwhen he went about his necessary labor afield, and watching over it\nwith an anxious care into which his whole existence seemed concentrated.\n\nThe boy was well worth these pains and pride. He never cried; and he\nseemed perfectly happy and contented when couched in a nest of soft\ngrass and dry leaves under the open sky, where his foster-father, as\nhe toiled, could keep an eye on him. Moreover, the youngster grew\nlike some sturdy young bull. He had no teething troubles; presently\nhe was eating the same food that served Hyrieus himself--with all\nthe choicest portions for his share; and he found his legs almost as\nquickly as a young partridge.\n\nIn fact, by the time when ordinary children are beginning to toddle\nuncertainly, this boy, whom Hyrieus had named Orion, was as tall as\nhis foster-father. Nor did he cease his prodigious growth when he\nreached the ordinary limits of mankind: not even Otus and Ephialtes,\nwho rebelled against the gods and strove to set Mt. Ossa upon Pelion\nthat they might scale Olympus itself,--not even these gigantic youths\ncould compare with Orion. And we have the word of Odysseus who beheld\nthem among the shades in Hades that those portentous twins were at nine\nyears of age fifty-four feet in height and some thirteen across the\nshoulders.\n\nHe was as handsome as one of the immortals, too, this Orion. Well\nproportioned and graceful in spite of his size, he roamed the woods and\nfields with the agility and tirelessness of one of the wild creatures\nwhose ways seemed to have an endless fascination for him.\n\nHyrieus began to fare better than ever before, for the boy would\nreturn from these expeditions with rabbits and hares, with quail, wood\npigeons, partridges and ducks, which he had snared or caught with his\nhands by some sudden pounce after a long stalk.\n\nPresently his foster-father showed him how to make a bow and arrows;\nand one day the youngster proudly appeared before the hut with a\nroebuck upon his shoulders. It was not long before he had learned\nto outwit the great red stags of the hills, to chase successfully\nthe long-horned wild goats, and even to bring back chamois from the\nprecipitous fastnesses of rocky, fir-clad Mt. Cith\u00e6ron, or the crags of\ntwo-peaked Helicon. By the time he had reached his early teens he was\nalready a mighty hunter, who had met and vanquished the lynx, the wolf\nand the brown bear, who could stand up to the charge of an infuriated\nwild boar, and whose chief desire was to take in fair fight the lion\nskin he wished for a cloak.\n\nFierce as he was, however, in attacking some snarling wild beast\nwith his great club, he was always gentle and thoughtful to his\nfoster-father; and Hyrieus many a time blessed the day when his\nhospitality had fallen upon such fruitful soil. To be sure, as the good\nfarmer grew old, his unbounded pride in the feats of this stripling\ncast at times a reflected glory upon himself: there were moments when\nhe looked upon Orion's great muscles and the trophies of his strength\nand fleetness almost as if these were to be credited to his very own\nflesh and blood. Yet in the bottom of his heart there was ever a slight\nfeeling of awe at this prodigy who had come to comfort his old age; and\nthis was deepened when he learned of one strange power which the youth\npossessed.\n\nExulting in his own swiftness of foot, Orion was one day chasing a\nroebuck, endeavoring to run down the bounding little creature on equal\nterms. The deer made for the river, and finding itself hard pressed,\nsprang in and swam the wide stream. Orion, close behind, excitedly\nplunged in after his quarry; and though the water was far above his\nhead, he actually gained upon the deer in crossing, caught it on\nthe opposite shore, and bore the carcass home in triumph. It seemed\nperfectly natural to him to be able to walk through the water, without\ntouching bottom, almost as easily as on dry land; but Hyrieus was\nfilled with astonishment at his story and could scarcely credit it\nuntil he saw the youth a few days later perform the same miraculous\nfeat in the neighboring lake, advancing with great strides through\nfifty feet of water, only his head showing above the surface. Unknown\nto either of them, this was the natal gift of Poseidon, god of the\nsea and waters. Orion troubled himself little enough about whence it\ncame or its singularity; but from that hour rivers and lakes were no\nobstacle to him, and when he roamed further and reached the great\nsea itself, he found himself master of even this, and able to travel\nthrough the salt surge and the heaving waves of Poseidon's own domain.\nThereafter, the farthest confines of Greece, nay even Thrace, Macedon\nand remote Illyria, could not satisfy this passion for wandering. He\nlearned to know the aspect of inaccessible Olympus from the north and\nwest as well as the familiar one from the south. The unknown, with its\nnew animals and fresh landscapes, ever called him on to wider and wider\nswings from his B\u0153otian home.\n\nWhen he reached young manhood, all who beheld him agreed that he was\nhandsomest among the sons of men--if indeed he were of human origin.\nThe maidens of Tanagra, Thebes and Plat\u00e6a did not say so much, but\ntheir eyes spoke for them when the swift-footed young hunter sped\npast. As for him, he seemed to see none of them save Side, whose tall\nbeauty and dignity marked her out among all the graceful girls of that\nland; and he only knew that when he looked upon her he was filled with\na vague unrest.\n\nThe time came for the festival of the Great D\u00e6dala, when, once in sixty\nyears, all the folk celebrated the reconciliation of Zeus and Hera.\n\nFrom every corner of B\u0153otia the people gathered. In solemn\nprocession, headed by the priests, they fared forth into an ancient\nforest, where giant oaks stood shoulder to shoulder so that their\nmighty boles were in sunless gloom.\n\nThe priest set some boiled meat on the ground. Breathlessly the great\nassemblage watched in silence as the birds dropped through the air to\ntheir feast.\n\nPresently a raven appeared. A long sigh of expectant excitement went\nup from the crowd. The glossy black bird lit near the meat, and walked\nawkwardly towards it, cocking an impudent eye towards the motionless\ncreatures who watched him so intently. Assured of their harmlessness,\nhe seized a piece of this heaven-sent dinner and flapped away with his\nprize. Every gaze was focussed upon him.\n\nAs he lit on the lower branch of a huge oak some distance off, a\ntremendous shout from hundreds of throats rang through the gloomy\nforest. Everyone rushed to the tree thus selected. Amid songs and\nclamor, men with axes cut down this giant growth. And when it crashed\nto earth, another shout alarmed the birds and beasts for miles about.\n\nSwiftly the skilled axemen hewed out an image from a section of the\ntrunk. With deft fingers the women dressed this image in snowy bridal\ngarments.\n\nWhen all was ready, it was lifted into a clumsy wain, with solid\nhewed-out wheels, drawn by a white bullock. Beside it was seated\nthe most beautiful virgin as bridesmaid; and Orion's heart throbbed\nviolently as he saw the stately Side take her place in this seat of\nhonor.\n\nThe wain started back out of the wood, followed by a piping and\ndancing throng of worshippers. At the edge of the forest they were\nmet by another procession, escorting the thirteen other images which\ncommemorated all the Little D\u00e6dala festivals since the last great\ncelebration.\n\nChanting and dancing, the whole multitude moved down to the Asopus\nRiver; after a ceremony of purification, they set out for Mt. Cith\u00e6ron.\n\nHere the fourteen wains were dragged to the very summit of the\nmountain. The images were placed on the altar of square blocks of\nwood, and brush-wood was heaped over all. After sacrifices had been\nperformed,--a he-goat to Zeus, and a cow to Hera--a torch was set to\nthis sacred pile, and in a moment the whole was a vast pillar of fire,\nleaping a hundred feet into the air and visible for miles and miles in\nevery direction.\n\nIt was a prodigious and awe-inspiring spectacle. But Orion saw only\nSide in her calm and lofty beauty. For the first time he realized that\nthere were other things necessary to his happiness besides chasing the\nred deer and the snarling wolf.\n\nHe sought her parents and demanded her. And when they found that Side,\nso sure of herself and so scornful of all suitors, had lost her heart\nto this tall, impetuous youth, they gave their consent.\n\nThe wedding was the occasion of another celebration almost as joyous\nas one of the lesser D\u00e6dala, for all the countryside was proud of the\nunmatched beauty of Side, and Orion's renown had spread far and wide.\n\nEach guest seemed to vie with all the others in complimenting Side,\nwho had never looked more lovely or more unapproachable than in her\nbridal array. So loud and extravagant was this chorus of praise that it\naroused the jealousy of some of her comrades.\n\n\"After all,\" broke out a black-eyed maiden spitefully, \"she is the\ndaughter of crooked-legged Alpheus. One might think, to hear them go\non, that it was Hera herself who was being married to this wild man.\"\n\nOrion, beside his bride, heard the taunt, and turned upon the speaker.\n\n\"I have never seen Hera,\" said he. \"But I have seen Side--and she is\nbeyond compare with any mortal I know. Until I behold the Goddess face\nto face and find I am mistaken, I shall believe that even on Olympus\nthere is none that can challenge my bride.\"\n\nThe guests gasped and drew back a space at this audacious sacrilege.\nSide, however, smiled, well pleased. For in her secret heart she\nthought her ardent lover spoke but the truth, and that had she been in\nHera's place there would have been no need of the reconciliation with\nZeus, for which the D\u00e6dala was held.\n\nThe large-eyed Queen of Heaven heard the rash speech and saw the\npresumption of this earth-born maiden. Her majestic brows knit in\nanger--and it was as if a cloud passed across the face of the sun.\nSternly she refused the wedding sacrifice to herself, the Perfecter and\nFulfiller, and all the folk were aghast at this portent.\n\nBut Side still smiled, serene in her blind conceit.\n\n\"Am I not perfect enough for you to worship?\" said she softly to Orion.\n\nHis ardent answer was interrupted by a crash of thunder from the\nclear sky. Swiftly a great darkness fell upon the smiling plain.\nThe merrymakers were blanched with fear as this blackness engulfed\neverything. They spoke in strained whispers. Darker and darker it\ngrew, till one could not see his terrified neighbor's face. Even the\nmurmurings ceased. All waited for some dread happening, they knew not\nwhat.\n\nThe silence was pierced by a sudden scream.\n\n\"Side!\" cried Orion. \"Side! Where are you?\" He rushed wildly about,\nupsetting all in his path.\n\nThere was the sound of a rushing wind, nothing more. Then the gloom\nlifted as mysteriously as it had come.\n\nBut the bride was nowhere to be found. The wedding party crept to their\nhomes. No earthly eye ever again beheld the presumptuous Side. The wise\nones whispered that the enraged Hera had cast her into Hades for her\nsacrilege. Once more Orion roamed the forests, more fiercely than ever.\n\nIt chanced one day, as he crashed through the thick bushes beside a\nriver in hot chase of a noble stag, that he came suddenly upon a group\nof seven nymphs who, garlanded with flowers, were dancing upon the\ncarpet of green moss.\n\nThey ceased their song at sight of him and huddled together behind the\ntallest in affright. This one, however, looked at him in bold defiance.\nShe was Maia, eldest of these seven daughters of Atlas, and such was\nher beauty that it had already touched the heart of the Father of\nthe Gods himself. Straight and slender she stood, gazing under level\nbrows at the intruder as if challenging him to approach one under the\nprotection of Zeus.\n\nThere was something about her proud carriage and the perfect oval\nof her face that made Orion think of his lost Side. The stag was\nforgotten. Impulsively he stepped forward to speak to her.\n\nAs this giant youth, with his torn and shaggy skin garment, and all\nflushed with the excitement of his chase, came closer, even Maia's\nbravery forsook her. She gave a cry of alarm, and all the seven turned\nand fled through the forest. Orion pursued them, as instinctively as he\nwould have dashed after a startled roe. But to his surprise and chagrin\nthey proved almost as fleet-footed as himself. He would hear them\nahead, or catch a glimpse of them between the tree trunks, and plunge\ntoward the spot--only to be baffled time and again. At length, after\nhours of pursuit, he was compelled to own himself beaten and give up\nfor the time.\n\nThe next day found him casting about like any deerhound for this\nelusive quarry. Yet they were as wary as he, and while he sighted\nthem across a valley and renewed his efforts to the utmost, he never\nsucceeded in drawing even as close as the first time, since the\nfrightened nymphs had a trick of twisting and turning when hard pressed\nthat always succeeded in carrying them out of sight and hearing.\n\nThis went on day after day till it became his main occupation, and\nwhile hunting game the thought of the fair Maia ever kept him on the\nalert. More than once he almost outwitted her and her sisters, and his\ndetermination became only hotter as time passed.\n\nAt last his opportunity came--five years after that first memorable\nmeeting. From a hilltop he spied the group in the lush meadow by the\nriver, pelting each other with anemones. Cautiously he crept along back\nof the ridge till he reached a point where he felt sure he could cut\nthem off from the protecting forest. Then he leaped to his feet and\nstarted down the steep hillside as he had never run before.\n\nWatchful from many alarms, they saw him almost immediately. With\nshrieks of terror they fled up the gentle slope. As he had foreseen,\nit became a race to see which should first reach the nearest tongue of\nforest that thrust towards the river.\n\nBreathless but triumphant, Orion found himself at the edge of the\ntangled thicket. The group of maidens halted fifty feet away, all\nexcept Maia weeping and crouching to the ground. In the open they were\nabsolutely at his mercy.\n\nSlowly he advanced towards them, wondering more than ever at the grace\nand charm of the leader, who faced him this time with less defiance,\nyet without any of the despair shown by her sisters. She called aloud\nupon Zeus for aid.\n\nCloser and closer Orion approached, with never a word. Then with the\nsame swift motion in which he was wont to pounce upon a trembling hare,\nhe caught at his prize--and remained in this position, staring stupidly\nat seven white pigeons that fluttered away just out of his grasp and\nsoared upward till they disappeared into the blue of the sky.\n\nZeus had listened to the prayer of Maia, and in his sovereign power he\ncaught up all the seven into the firmament and translated them into\nstars, the shining Pleiades.\n\nFor the second time in his life Orion realized with dull resentment\nthat there were unseen powers beyond his own. Like some wounded wolf\nhe sought a couch in a cave, beneath a great overhanging rock in the\nnearby ravine, and lay there nursing his grievance.\n\nWhen he finally came forth, the fair land of Hellas had become\ndistasteful to him. He set forth to find some country beyond the seas\nwhere he might still be mightiest of all, and where naught could remind\nhim of these rebuffs.\n\nWide were his wanderings across the mighty sea. Even to Scylla and\nCharybdis he came, and there left perpetual memorials of his might.\nFor on the Sicilian coast, where fell Charybdis threatened every\nmariner, he built a sickle-shaped strip of protecting rock that formed\nthe safe harbor of Zancle, where, thanks to this shelter, the great\ncity of Messina was to rise. Also, across the strait from hideous,\nsix-headed Scylla he hurled into the open sea a rocky mass that juts\nfrom the shore as the promontory of Pelorus--whereon he reared a temple\nto his protector Poseidon, in which the inhabitants religiously adored\nthe sea-god for thousands of years thereafter. For a time he dwelt in\nthe mountains of Hera, whence fiery \u00c6tna could be seen to the north,\nrumbling and spouting forth flame as the colossal Enceladus still\nstruggled beneath its weight.\n\nBut, he could not long be content in any one place; so when he had\nmastered all the difficulties of rugged Sicily, he set forth once more.\n\nThis time he fared eastward again till he came into the smiling waters\nof the \u00c6gean, and reached the craggy isle of Chios, where fig tree,\npalm and vine grew under the soft Ionian sky.\n\nKing \u0152nopion ruled this land of ease and plenty, and his daughter\nMerope was famed through all Ionia for her beauty.\n\nHardly had Orion beheld this princess when he found his heart burn\nwithin him at the sight or thought of her. Boldly he demanded her in\nmarriage.\n\nBut King \u0152nopion, proud of his lineage as son of Dionysus and\nAriadne, thought it far from fitting that his daughter should wed this\nwandering woodsman, superhuman as his strength might be. Not venturing\nto express his feeling openly to his formidable, self-invited guest, he\nstill managed to delay giving a decisive answer.\n\nAfter the fashion of lovers of all times, Orion made offering of his\nspecial capacities. The wild creatures of Chios had a hard time, for\nnot only must skins and furs and venison be laid at the feet of the\nbeautiful Merope, but he caught at the suggestion of the King that he\nshould free the island from the lions and other dangerous beasts which\nthen ravaged it and held all the inhabitants in terror.\n\nTo \u0152nopion's disappointment he proved fiercer than the bears and\nlions, even than the dreaded sharks of the sea. Instead of being\ndevoured as the King had hoped, he brought back one trophy after\nanother, always demanding, with outdoor directness, the thing he had\nset his heart on.\n\nHis scanty patience was exhausted long before the wily monarch's stock\nof pretexts. His nature and habit had ever been to seize what he\nwanted: in his usual headlong fashion he attempted openly to carry off\nMerope by force; and failing in his first effort, made no secret of his\nintention to try again.\n\nThe wily \u0152nopion concealed his resentment and bade the headstrong\nsuitor to a banquet. In friendly fashion he plied him with heady wine\nfrom the luscious grapes of Ariusia.\n\nThen, when even his giant strength was relaxed, the royal slaves set\nupon him, blinded him, and cast him out upon the seashore to perish.\n\nAs the salt spray dashing over his face brought him to full\nconsciousness, he roared aloud in pain and wrath. The people in the\ncity miles away trembled at that sound; and \u0152nopion regretted to the\nbottom of his cowardly heart that he had not slain this giant when he\nwas in his power.\n\nOrion bathed his face in the lapping waves and got slowly on his feet.\nHis first instinct was to grope his way back to the palace and take\nswift revenge upon the King for his treachery. But a few faltering\nsteps convinced him of the folly of attempting this in his helpless\nstate.\n\nHe turned again toward the sea, in which he now felt almost as much at\nhome as on land. Keeping the fresh breeze full in his face, and calling\naloud upon Poseidon, he waded into the waves. With no clear idea of\nwhere he was going, he set forth.\n\nNorthward he fared, finding relief in his mighty strides through the\ncool waters, and in the wind that blew full upon his fevered eyes. Hour\nafter hour he sped on tirelessly, his thoughts still in such a ferment\nof rage that he could make no calm or reasoned plan.\n\nWithout knowing it, he arrived off the western point of Lesbos.\nSuddenly there broke upon his fantastic plans for revenge a mighty\npulsing beat, which came muffled, from far away, through water and air.\nInstinctively he proceeded towards the sound; and as he advanced it\ngrew ever louder, till he fancied it seemed like the clangor of a vast\nanvil under the strokes of some super-smith.\n\nIn fact he was approaching the isle of Lemnos, where dwelt and labored\nthe cunningest of all smiths, the lame god Heph\u00e6stos. Here, in a cavern\nstretching down beneath the ocean floor, he had had his workshop ever\nsince Zeus had hurled him from Olympus, and here he wrought such\nmarvels as the arms of Achilles, the sceptre of Agamemnon, and the\nfatal necklace of Harmonia.\n\nGuided by the ringing hammer strokes, Orion at length reached this\nsubterranean forge and told his story. The immortal craftsman was moved\nto see such bodily perfection marred and helpless through loss of sight.\n\nHe called one of his workmen. \"Take Cedalion with you,\" he said. \"He\nwill guide you to the spot where the Sun rises. I know Helios well: did\nI not make the golden boat which carries him back each night, along\nthe border of the earth, to the East once more? Before his gleaming\neyes every darkness must retreat; for the All-seer pierces through any\nblackness. It is from him alone that you may recover your eye-sight.\"\n\nOverjoyed at any definite hope, Orion placed Cedalion on his shoulders,\nhastened up from the cavern, and once more plunged into the rolling\nbreakers.\n\nDirected by him he carried, he journeyed eastward, eastward ever. Past\nmany a strange land he sped, holding to the mark as a homing-pigeon\nholds towards his distant remembered cote.\n\nLong and weary was the way; but nothing mattered save to press on\ntowards the god of light. And at last he reached that lovely bay in\nthe ultimate East where Helios mounts the sky each morn behind his\nsnow-white steeds.\n\nHere he placed Cedalion on his feet again. The latter prostrated\nhimself face to earth, lest he be smitten by the terrible brilliance of\nthe Sun-god. But Orion stood erect, awaiting the coming of the Day.\n\nThe brooding night trembled and drew back. Through the morning mist\nappeared Eos, goddess of the dawn and herald of her brilliant brother.\nNew-risen from her ocean-couch, with ruddy hair streaming above her\nsaffron-colored mantle, she advanced in her golden chariot, while her\nrosy fingers sprinkled dew upon the earth from the vase she carried.\nThe dawn breeze struck mysterious notes of music from her tresses like\nthose of an \u00c6olian harp.\n\nOrion could not see this gracious vision as he stood there stark and\nexpectant. Yet some influence of the colorful morning freshness which\nfaced him softened his countenance into a smile of pleasure.\n\nAnd as Eos looked upon the perfectness of his strong, beautiful youth,\nshe loved him. Bending down, she pressed a kiss upon his forehead,\nwhispering: \"Be of good heart. Helios comes.\"\n\nShe passed on. The heavens blazed with purple and crimson and gold\nstreamers, shooting up to the zenith from the coronal of the rising\nSun-god.\n\nOut of the rippling blue waters of the bay lifted his majestic visage.\nThe intolerable gleam of his eyes fell full upon the sightless orbs of\nOrion.\n\nInstantly the blinded giant saw once more. But seeing, he was\nconstrained for the first time in his life to bow his head before that\nfiery glance. When the god had whirled on upward, he picked up the\ntrembling Cedalion, set him on his shoulders again, and turned back\ntowards Lemnos, for his wrath still burned hotly against \u0152nopion.\nYet amid his grim thoughts of vengeance, ever and again there sounded\nthose faint music-breaths that had come to him when Eos passed by; and\never and again he would feel her soft lips against his brow.\n\nLike some dripping sea monster, he stepped upon the beach of Chios.\nOverbearing all who would stay him, he drove on towards the palace.\n\u0152nopion, however, had been warned of his coming and had hastily\nhid himself in a labyrinthine cavern beneath the ground. Search as he\nmight, Orion could not discover his enemy, and was reluctantly forced\nto forego the retribution he had planned.\n\nHe thought then to leave this ill-omened isle. But the next morning\nEos, who had not forgotten him, carried him off to Delos. Since her\nTitan husband had been slain by the lightnings of Zeus, she claimed\nthe right to marry this handsome hunter. But the council of the gods\nrejected her plea. She dared not resist this supreme decree, so\nsorrowfully she left him.\n\nNow this tiny isle of Delos had been the birthplace of Apollo and\nArtemis. Formerly called Ortygia, it had floated hither and thither\nbefore the winds; but when Leto came to give birth to these twin\nchildren of Zeus, and found no refuge elsewhere in all the world, the\nmighty ruler of Olympus fixed it firmly in its place by four chains\nof adamant; and forever after it was sacred to the three divinities,\nthough more particularly to Apollo.\n\nLittle reverence or awe was there in Orion's mind, however, when he\nfound himself alone upon this rocky islet. He realized that for a third\ntime invisible powers had come between him and the woman he thought\nhis; worst of all, there was no one against whom he could direct the\nhot resentment that flexed every mighty muscle of his body.\n\nHis consuming wrath made some action a necessity. He started up the\ncraggy slope of Mt. Cynthos, bursting through the tangled thicket,\nleaping from one boulder to another, striding across deep clefts in the\nrock,--with a vague idea that from the commanding summit of the hill he\nmight spy one of these hidden enemies who thus thwarted him.\n\nAs he squeezed through a narrow pass at the foot of a riven face of\nrock, his hunter's eye caught the black spot marking a cave entrance;\nand the grizzly hairs at the opening told him it was a wolf's den. He\npaused instinctively and peered into the gloom of the cavern. A chorus\nof high yapping barks proclaimed the presence of a family of cubs.\n\nHe hesitated a moment, wondering if he could force his broad shoulders\nthrough the opening. Then he sprang to his feet and faced about, as he\nheard behind him a snarl that threatened instant danger.\n\nA few feet away, the head of a huge she-wolf protruded from the glossy\ngreen leaves of the dense laurel. The creature had just dropped a fawn\nit had been bringing home, and the bleeding carcass lay unheeded at\nthe edge of the thicket. Its green eyes blazed with deadly intention;\nthe long hair on its neck bristled up straight around the blood-spotted\njaws into a Medusa's head of terror.\n\nOrion had barely time to throw up one guarding arm, when the fierce\nbrute sprang at his throat. Even the wild boar at bay has no fury\ncomparable with that of the hunting wolf-mother, protecting her young.\nBut for the giant's instinctive defensive movement, it might have gone\nbadly even with him. As it was, the dripping teeth caught hold of a\nfold of his skin garment, and he staggered against the rock wall at the\nimpact of the animal landing on his shoulder.\n\nThis death-grapple quite suited the hunter's own savage mood. His eyes\nblazed as balefully as those of the wolf. With a motion as swift as\nthat of a panther he gripped the animal's upper jaw with his right\nhand. Heaving it free from his shoulder, his left hand caught the lower\njaw before those wicked fangs had time to close upon his fingers.\n\nThen, putting forth his full might, he fairly tore the struggling\nbeast's jaws asunder, and dashed it lifeless against a boulder.\n\nHe was a superb figure as he stood there in the full vigor of his\naroused powers. It might have been one of the Titan brood defying any\nforce of earth or heavens. Yet instead of being monstrous, he was\nbeautiful--manhood in its perfection though enlarged far beyond common\nhumanity.\n\n\"Well done!\" said a clear voice behind him. \"A fitting end for the\nfawn-killer.\"\n\nOrion turned--and to his surprise, his limbs trembled as they had not\ndone at sight of the attacking brute.\n\nA tall maidenly figure stood beside a cypress tree whose twisted roots\ndisappeared into a rock crevice. She held a bow, and her right hand\nstill gripped the long arrow which she had clearly been holding sighted\nagainst the wolf, ready to discharge the instant the man seemed to be\ngetting the worst of the struggle.\n\nHer embroidered chiton was girt to the knees; her long hair,\nintricately woven about her head was bound by a fillet on which shone\na silver crescent; upon her feet were Cretan sandals, whose crossing\nthongs were held by embossed silver clasps. Slender, youthful, alive\nwith vitality, with sparkling great eyes and smiling lips, she seemed,\nas she replaced the arrow in her quiver, to breathe forth that very\nspirit of the forest which had ever drawn Orion into the most intimate\ndepths of nature's wildnesses. Indeed, as he gazed stupidly at this\nradiant creature, she appeared like the very embodiment of all his\ndeepest longings, unexpressed and even unrealized by himself.\n\n\"Ai!\" she exclaimed. \"Never have I seen such a one among the sons of\nmen. I am Artemis. Henceforth we shall hunt together, you and I.\"\n\nFor the first time in his life Orion felt humble. It was not that she\nnamed herself daughter of Zeus: but to have the companionship of this\nShining One in the life he loved was a boon which no strength of his\ncould win; and his heart beat with lowly gratitude.\n\nThen the self-sufficient man reasserted himself. \"Let us go,\" said he.\n\"There is no creature of the woods that can escape or defy me.\"\n\nThe goddess smiled, as if pleased with his boastfulness. \"This isle\nwill hardly contain such hunters as we. Let us go to Crete. There are\nmountains that dwarf Ossa and Pelion. There we may range from the\nperpetual snow of Ida to the olive-filled vales of Iardanos.\"\n\nJoyfully Orion strode beside her down the rugged side of Cynthos. He\nhoped they might encounter some monster, that he might at once protect\nhis companion and show his power. And Artemis, perceiving his thought,\nsmiled again in pleasure.\n\nSouthward, across the sea they journeyed to the land of Minos. And here\nthey spent long golden days in roaming over the length and breadth\nof this isle of mountains and caves and upland pasture plateaus and\nfertile sea-level valleys. They waged relentless war against the\nkillers that preyed upon the wild herds whom Artemis held under her\nprotection: till to this day it is recorded that not a wolf can be\nfound in Crete, plentiful as they still are in neighboring lands.\n\nOrion was well content. Life had become an infinitely richer thing than\nhe had ever imagined, even when he had thought it at the full. For once\nhe was willing to wait patiently for that which he most desired.\n\nFor this Comrade was the true woman he had ever sought. Daughter of\nZeus though she was, terrible as was her wrath, proud as she might\nbe of her title of Parthenos, he felt sure she belonged to him, and\nthat each new day's varied experience bound them together the more\nindissolubly.\n\nAnd it is written that the Goddess herself felt the bond. She\nrecognized her mate according to the decrees of nature. And she made no\nsecret of her intention to wed this earth-born one.\n\nThen bright Apollo, twin brother of the huntress, waxed wroth and\ndetermined to avert this disgrace. And because even he hesitated to\nthwart her openly, he had recourse to guile.\n\nIt chanced towards dusk one summer's eve that Artemis stood by the\nseashore. Contrary to his wont, Orion had gone off alone on an\nexpedition to a neighboring island.\n\nHe was now returning, progressing through the water with mighty\nstrides, but so distant that his head seemed but a tiny speck upon the\nhorizon.\n\nSuddenly Apollo descended to his sister's side. Playfully he began to\nrally her upon her vaunted skill with the bow, at which he himself was\nunexcelled.\n\nWhen her pride was aroused, he declared that she could not hit that\nblack spot which seemed to move toward them--probably a porpoise.\n\nQuickly the piqued Goddess seized an arrow from the quiver on her\nshoulder. Steadily she drew her bow till the arrow-head touched her\nfinger. Firmly she loosed it. The string gave a mighty twang. The shaft\nsped seaward, true to the mark.\n\nArtemis turned in triumph, but Apollo had vanished. A vague uneasiness\nfilled her breast. The surf seemed to beat against the sands in\nlamentation, growing louder and yet louder.\n\nThen urged on by Poseidon, the waves passed from one to another, and\npresently laid at her feet--the dead body of her Comrade, whom she had\nthus unwittingly slain.\n\nAt that the Huntress knew what it was to weep, even as the daughters of\nmen. Bitterly she reproached Apollo, wildly she reproached herself.\n\nHope sprang up again within her as she thought of Asclepius. Well\nshe knew the skill of this child of Apollo, who had added to his\ninheritance all the wisdom of Chiron the centaur. His feats of healing\nhad approached miracles, and it was whispered that he had even essayed\nwith success the final miracle of restoring the dead to life. He could\nnot refuse his aid to her.\n\nSwiftly she bore away the body across the sea to Argolis, where the\ntemple of Asclepius stood near Epidaurus.\n\nUnwillingly the sage of healing hearkened to her plea, for he feared to\nexercise his art upon one who had presumed to alliance with divinity.\nYet to his father's twin he could refuse nothing.\n\nHe set about his work. Skilfully he compounded elixirs; solemnly he\nperformed the mystic rites of his craft.\n\nBut at the moment of consummation, his forebodings proved but too well\nfounded. All-seeing Zeus perceived the confusion that must result on\nearth if such resurrection were permitted; so he hearkened to the\nprotests of Hades, and suddenly slew the too-wise physician with one of\nhis thunderbolts.\n\nSo far the Thunderer did listen to the prayers of Artemis: he placed\nthe beautiful giant on high as a constellation in the sky.\n\nThere you may see him still if you are of the hunting craft and\nsally forth after wildfowl before Eos flushes the eastern sky. The\nthree stars in a straight line in his jeweled belt gleam as the most\nconspicuous ornament of the spangled sky; below an even larger white\nstar, Rigel, marks the giant's left foot; while topaz Betelgeuse blazes\non his shoulder at an equal distance above. At his heels follows his\nfaithful dog, where Sirius now gleams white, but looked redly down some\nthousands of years ago. Before him, with fair Maia chief among them,\nstill fly the Pleiades, though he heeds them not.\n\nThus, \"gliding through the silent sphere . . . and girt with gold,\" the\ngiant hunter seeks his lost Artemis still.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE OUTWITTING OF POLYPHEMUS\n\n\nTroy had fallen. After ten years' siege by a hundred thousand of\nGreece's mightiest warriors, the ramparts built by Poseidon had still\nproved impregnable to assault; the fell arrows of Heracles added to\nthis host had failed to accomplish what Heracles himself had done\nsingle-handed. But finally, at the appointed time, stratagem had\nsucceeded where force had proved of no avail: the monstrous wooden\nhorse, within which crouched wily Odysseus and his chosen band, had\nwrought Ilium's downfall,--leaving the world even till this day a\npregnant proverb: to beware the enemy bearing gifts.\n\nAmong the Greeks summoned by King Menelaus to recapture Helen the\nincomparable, there was none to equal Odysseus as a combined warrior,\nleader and counsellor. To him had been awarded the celestial arms of\nAchilles; it was he who secretly stole away the Palladium, the guardian\nimage whose presence made Troy invulnerable; through his counsel and\nunder his leadership, the fateful wooden horse had brought the final\nvictory.\n\nHe had done his utmost to evade the call to Troy in the first place,\nfor the oracle had foretold that if he went, it would be twenty years\nbefore he should again see his beloved isle of Ithaca.\n\nIt had already taken half of this daunting term to complete the object\nof the expedition. But now the Trojan stronghold was a fiery memory.\nHelen was restored to her rightful husband. There remained merely the\nvoyage of a few hundred miles back, through the island-studded \u00c6gean\nand around the Peloponnesus, to bring him once more to his own kingdom,\nto that patient Penelope who awaited his return, and the baby son, (now\na baby no longer but the \"discreet\" Telemachus), to whom his sire was\nbut a name. Surely the soothsayer must have erred: it could not take\nyears for his galleys to cover the distance over which his heart and\nthoughts sped so swiftly.\n\nYet it was with a solemn countenance that the hero made offerings to\nthe Gods, and bade his followers loose the sails of his twelve stout\nships before the southwest breeze. For none knew better than he how\nlittle might the utmost human skill and wisdom avail against the\ndecrees of Olympus.\n\nNo such forebodings clouded the minds of his islanders. The thought\nof home, after these years of toil and peril, ran through their veins\nlike an elixir. With shouts of joy, as dawn broke fresh and clear, each\ncrew raced its long-keeled, high-prowed galley down the sloping beach.\nDripping, they scrambled aboard, every man to his thwart. In unison the\noars hit the water with powerful strokes, to the measure of an exultant\nchant. The yards were hoisted, sails unclewed, lowered and made fast.\nUnder the following wind and the rowers' vigor, the vermillion-cheeked\ngalleys leaped like live things across the quiet waters that curled\nabout their prows.\n\nIt was not so quiet as they passed out of the protected harbor, for\nthe stiff breeze was beginning to make the leaping waves blossom into\nwhite; but with yards braced and oars bending, they stood away stoutly\ninto the northwest. Between Lemnos and Imbros they passed, forced ever\nmore to northward by the growing wind, till they could see the wooded\nheights of Samothrace to leeward; and while most of the unthinking\nrejoiced to feel the plunging vessels speed so fast through the waves,\nOdysseus was far from satisfied, realizing that they were now headed\nalmost directly away from their proper course.\n\nHe was glad enough as darkness began to fall, to see ahead the\nmountainous shore of Thrace, and to beach his vessels beneath the stars\non the sandy strip, near the mouth of a cove, which his careful eye had\nnoted.\n\nMorning showed them hard by the chief town of the Ciconians, who\ninhabited those shores. They were barbarians, these Thracians, and\nproper spoil for warlike Greeks. Launching his galleys and leaving\nguards aboard, Odysseus led his Ithacans against this city of Ismaurus,\nsure of an easy victory as had been theirs so often before.\n\nIn one swift assault they overwhelmed the place, sacked it, and divided\nthe booty. Then the prudent leader ordered an instant retreat to the\nwaiting vessels.\n\nBut his inflamed soldiers, who had drunk deep of Thracian wine, could\nno longer be controlled. They began to slaughter the crook-horned oxen\nand the sheep, preparing by the shore for a triumphant carouse. All\nnight the wild feast lasted.\n\nThen, when discipline was relaxed, what had been foreseen by their\nleader came to pass. The Ciconians who had escaped had called upon\ntheir neighbors for aid. At dawn these began to gather, on horseback,\nin war chariots, on foot, thick as leaves and flowers in spring.\n\nThe Greeks now listened to their leader. It was too late to take to\nthe swift ships, but they set themselves in battle array as the enemy\nburst upon them. Stoutly they fought, while the brass-tipped spears\ncarried death to both sides. For nearly the whole day they managed to\nhold their ground against the pressing multitude; but towards sunset\nthe numbers of the foe began to tell. The Grecian line was turned; man\nafter man went down; and when they finally fled aboard the galleys in\nrout, seventy-two of their company were missing.\n\nGlad to have escaped alive, the survivors did not leave till they had\nperformed the last sacred rites, calling aloud three times to each of\ntheir slain comrades by name that their spirits might be guided back to\nHellas. Then, with aching hearts, they sped from that ill-omened shore,\nwhile Odysseus prayed to Zeus for a favoring north wind.\n\nThe Cloud-gatherer heard, but answered in anger. The sky to northward\ngrew black and lowering. So suddenly did the storm-clouds overspread\nthe heavens that it seemed as if night had tumbled headlong upon\nthe quaking fleet. Suddenly the wind leaped upon them, hurling the\ngalleys apart as by a giant hand. The sails were torn to tatters by\nthe tempest; the fury of the gale and the overwhelming rain forced the\ncrews below, while the ships pitched and wallowed as they drove before\nthe wind. Seeing that their only chance for life was to get under the\nlee of some protecting shore, the crews came up once more, each rower\nstaggered to his seat, and they set to work to force their laboring\ncraft towards land.\n\nTwo days and nights they toiled, till even their tough hands were\nblistered and raw, and their exhausted muscles could scarcely grip the\noars. They reached the shelter of a promontory at length and rested\nthere, amazed to find themselves still afloat.\n\nBy the next morning the gale seemed to have blown itself out, so they\nhoisted their yards, set sail, and stood south before a following wind\nand sea.\n\nAgain the hopes of all ran high, as they coasted along the mountainous\nshores of Eub\u0153a, and turned southwest towards the long point of the\nPeloponnesus.\n\nStill the favoring breeze swept them on. They doubled the dreaded cape\nof Maleia, and held west, now doubting not at all that in two days at\nthe most their straining eyes would behold the rock cliffs of Ithaca.\nOnly the face of Odysseus was stern and set, as he pondered in his mind\nthe doleful prediction which had clouded his thoughts so many years.\n\nIndeed, he was hardly surprised when, as they swept around the next\njutting point, they were suddenly thrown aback by a squall from the\nnorth, accompanied by such a head sea that they were forced to put\nabout and run before it, as far back as Cythera.\n\nEven here they could make no harbor but drifted on helplessly before\nthe furious gale. Nine days and nights they were tossed about, not\nknowing where they were or whither they were being carried.\n\nOn the tenth the fury of the wind abated, and they sighted an unknown\nshore. Odysseus stood in close to land, anchored, and sent a party\nashore for fresh water. They prepared food on the beach, and ate and\ndrank greedily after their exhausting vigil.\n\nThe leader then despatched two sailors inland, with a third as a\nherald, to see what manner of folk inhabited these shores.\n\nThey did not return, so he set out after them himself. He soon came\nupon them amid a company of the natives, and perceived that the trouble\narose from the friendliness of these, not from any desire to harm\nthe visitors. For this was the famed land of the Lotus-eaters, and\nafter their custom they had given the sailors their own flowery food:\nstraightway the wanderers had lost all remembrance of their errand, of\nships, comrades, leader and home; they desired naught save to eat of\nthe lotus forever in this place of pleasant dreams.\n\nFinding that they hearkened neither to his commands nor entreaties,\nOdysseus dragged them weeping back to the ships by very force, bound\nthem fast, and stowed them under the rowers' benches. In haste he bade\nhis crews embark, lest they too eat of this insidious food; and the\nmoment they were safely aboard, the oars beat the water into foam, as\nthey swept ahead to whatever might next await them.\n\nOn they cruised, across strange seas, with no knowledge of how to\nsteer, but impelled ever forward on a chance course. It did not seem to\nmatter particularly when they ran into a fog so thick that they could\nscarcely see far enough about to keep together.\n\nMurky night settled down upon them. The blore of wind and sea seemed\nto increase and fill all space; yet there was no sign of rocks or\nbreakers ahead, nor could straining eyes make out anything to steer by.\nThey could but hold on their course, in dread of what any moment might\nbring, while the all-pervading roar grew ever more threatening.\n\nThen, as if by magic, the tossing galleys suddenly rode peacefully on\ncalm water. The thunderous roar was stilled, so that one might hear\nthe ripple of the curling wavelets about the bows. And presently the\nstaunch galleys slid gently up on a sloping beach.\n\nStill they could see naught about them. But it was enough for those\nhardened wanderers that they were once more safe for the moment.\nLowering all the sails, they stumbled ashore, lay down on the sand, and\nfell into the heavy sleep of passed fatigue and danger.\n\nRosy-fingered dawn opened their eyes upon a scene of beauty. They lay\nat the head of a landlocked basin, through whose narrow entrance,\nbetween tall cliffs, they had unwittingly steered safely in the\nblackness of the night. Close beside them a silvery stream rippled its\nway to the bay, from a cleft in the rock set about with dark poplars.\nLush meadows, suitable for plough land and vineyards, stretched from\nthe shore back to the wooded hills that hemmed in their refuge.\nEverything that nature unaided could provide was there, awaiting only\nthe labor of men to turn it all into fruitfulness and homes; and the\nhearts of these storm-tossed mariners relaxed in pleasure as they gazed\nupon the charming prospect.\n\nOn making a circuit of the island, they found its forest-covered rocks\neven more immediately interesting than the meadows about the harbor.\nFor innumerable wild goats made it their home, and the sight of these\nbounding figures turned their thoughts to hunting and food.\n\nBows and hunting spears were quickly brought from the ships; and\nseparating into three bands, they entered ardently upon the chase.\nNor was it long before they returned to the beach heavily laden with\ntoothsome game. Nine goats there were for each of the twelve galleys,\nand to the leader were allotted ten more. Then, until the setting of\nthe sun, they sat and feasted on this welcome meat, with ruddy wine\nfrom the ample store which they had brought away in jars as part of the\nspoil from the citadel of the Ciconians.\n\nThere was no sign of human beings on their island. But from the ridge\nthey had marked a much larger one just behind it, with a wide harbor,\nacross the mouth of which their resting-place lay. These rugged shores\nrose cliff-like from the water, carrying the eye back to higher and\nhigher mountains, till it rested in wonder upon a gigantic peak that\nseemed to pierce the very sky. From the snows about its crest rose a\nthreatening column of smoke--for this was that veritable \u00c6tna with\nwhich all-powerful Zeus had at last overwhelmed the fleeing Typhon who\nhad once driven the gods from Olympus.[54:1]\n\n     [54:1] See Chapter I.\n\nIn the calm of the evening the Greeks could hear across the narrow\nchannel the bleat of sheep and goats, and sounds like those from the\ndwellings of men, but tremendous and awe-inspiring. Wondering what\nmanner of folk these might be, they laid them down upon the beach and\nslept.\n\nAt dawn Odysseus held a council.\n\n\"You, my friends,\" said he, \"stay here, while I with my own crew\nexplore this neighboring isle. I must first discover whether its\npeople be churlish and savage, or if they observe the sacred rites of\nhospitality to strangers.\"\n\nQuickly the cables were loosed, the rowers took their places at the\npins, and the galley leaped forward out of the bay and around the point\nof the island. In a short time they were entering the harbor on the\nopposite shore.\n\nHardly had they passed the outer point when they stopped rowing\nin wonder. High up above them was a great cave in the face of the\nmountain. Dense masses of laurel grew all about its entrance. In front\nwas an enclosure, walled in by huge boulders and by massive trunks of\ntall pine and oak trees. Clearly this was the abode of some creature\nwho kept flocks and herds: but what sort of being must it be who could\nbuild such a colossal wall or need such quarters?\n\nOdysseus bade his crew stay on the galley and guard it with their\nlives. Twelve men, upon whom he could rely, he picked to accompany him.\nIn a goatskin bottle he carried his choicest offering--some of the dark\nsweet wine given him by the priest of Apollo at Ismaurus, in gratitude\nfor his protection when they had despoiled the Ciconians; it had been\nreserved for the priest himself and two others only of his household,\nand so potent was it that, when a cupful was mixed with twenty times as\nmuch water, its aroma still filled the nostrils.\n\nCautiously the adventurer climbed up the ascent, followed by his twelve\ncompanions. No human being was in sight as they passed through the\nenclosure; but when they entered the cave, there were plentiful signs\nof recent habitation. On one side were pens filled with lambs and kids,\nthe new-born in one, each older group to itself. Milking pails, huge\nbowls of milk set for cream, others of curd and of whey, and crates\nfilled with cheeses stood all about, in vast size and profusion like\neverything else.\n\nAll they saw was so suggestive of an owner far outside the limits of\nordinary men, that his followers at once besought him to make off\nwith as many cheeses, lambs and kids as they could carry aboard, and\nto hasten quickly from that terrifying abode. But Odysseus refused.\nConfident in the powers of his tongue and sword, he resolved to await\nthe return of this mighty cave-dweller, both to satisfy his own\ncuriosity and in the hope of receiving the customary gifts. Bitterly\nwas he to regret his decision before many hours had passed.\n\nMeanwhile, under his bidding, the Greeks kindled a fire, made burnt\noffering to the gods, and satisfied their hunger with some of the\ncheese. Then they sat about in the gloomy cave, awaiting its master's\nhome-coming.\n\nEverything combined to make them apprehensive, and the nerves of all\nsave Odysseus soon became taut enough. Hardened as they had become to\ndanger and the unknown, they started in spite of themselves at every\nsound from the forest and thicket outside. And each time they would\ncast sidelong glances at one another and at their unmoved leader,\nstriving to appear as unconcerned as he.\n\nThe sun in the west had begun to throw a long slanting tongue of light\nthrough the rock portal when unmistakable evidence came to their ears.\nAmid the bleating of returning flocks, there sounded the regular beat\nof what could only be mighty footsteps--footsteps which made even the\nsolid rock quiver, and for which only the sights about them could have\nprepared their minds. Nearer and nearer they came, and even those\nbronzed faces grew pale.\n\nSuddenly the sunlight streaming into the cave was darkened by a vast\nshape. It did not enter, but tossed in the whole bole of a blasted\npine, whose dry limbs crashed and splintered as it fell. The tumbling\nGreeks sprang back to a dark corner: even their awed imaginations had\nnot conceived of such gigantic strength.\n\nPresently a mass of ewes began to jostle in through the doorway;\nclearly the rams and he-goats were to be left outside, and these were\nthe milkers of the herd.\n\nBehind them came the monstrous creature, and to the crouching watchers\nit appeared as if some mountain peak from the range they had seen\nwere walking in upon them. Yet this prodigy, which seemed to fill the\nwhole cave, was built like a man in all respects save one: one great\neye only he bore, in the centre of his forehead. Savage and uncouth he\nwas, with matted hair, and yellow tusks at the corner of his mouth like\nsome ancient wild boar. And wise Odysseus knew that this was one of the\nfamed Cyclopes who acknowledged not even the sovereignty of Olympus.\n\nThat baleful eye apparently did not perceive the terrified group\nhuddled into the shadow. The monster turned as he entered, and laid\nhold of a huge stone which stood beside the portal. Such was its size\nthat a score of ox-teams could not have started it from its place; but\nthe intruders saw him wrap his great arms about the mass: the muscles\nstood out like cables as, lifting the boulder clear from the floor,\nhe placed it in front of the entrance for a door stone, completely\nblocking the exit.\n\nDark as it now was within, he at once set to work at milking, placing\nhalf the milk in vessels for curdling, and filling with the rest a bowl\nin which two ordinary men could have stood upright and which would have\nheld ten amphor\u00e6 of wine of ten gallons each. This done, he put the\nlambs and kids beneath their mothers.\n\nBreaking off great limbs of the tree he had brought in as if they were\ntwigs, he kindled a roaring fire. The leaping flames lit up the gloomy\ncavern. As the giant turned, the baleful glance of his single eye fell\nupon the cowering Ithacans.\n\n\"Ha!\" he roared, in a voice that beat upon them like a gale of wind.\n\"Who are you? Where have you come from across the seas? You look to me\nlike some of those sea-rovers who bring no good to those they visit.\"\n\nThough his companions, stout men all, seemed utterly overwhelmed by the\nsavage's voice and aspect, Odysseus made answer boldly:\n\n\"We are Ach\u00e6ans, homeward bound from Troy, but driven by adverse winds\nacross the sea. Through many wanderings Zeus has brought us hither.\nSubjects of Agamemnon are we, most famous of men, so great a city he\ntook. Here by chance, we ask of you food and shelter, and the gift\nwhich is the stranger's due. Even you, O mighty one, must respect the\ngods. And Zeus is the protector of the stranger and suppliant.\"\n\nRough was the monster's reply:\n\n\"Stupid or ignorant you must be to threaten me with the gods. The\nCyclopes care not for Zeus or his \u00e6gis: we are mightier than he, and in\nthis world the strong is the master. Not for the wrath of Zeus would\nI spare you. But where is your ship? On this shore or the far one?\nAnswer.\"\n\nOdysseus was not to be beguiled so simply. \"Poseidon, the Earth-shaker,\nwrecked my ship,\" he declared, \"and cast her on the rocky point at the\nisland's end. Only I, with these men, escaped.\"\n\nWithout a word, the Cyclops leaped forward. His hairy arms shot\nforth. In each huge hand he seized one of the startled seamen. Before\nthe luckless ones had time so much as to call aloud, he had dashed\nout their brains upon the rocky floor. Then, like some lion of the\nmountains, he tore them limb from limb and devoured them, washing down\nhis horrible meal with draughts of milk.\n\nPaying no heed to the sighs and tears and calls upon Zeus of the\nsurvivors, he stretched his gorged bulk at full length among his flock\nand slept, filling the cave with the sound of his noisome breathing.\n\nShaken with wrath at the outrage and the contempt, Odysseus was about\nto creep upon the sleeping horror and thrust his sharp sword into his\nvitals. He had marked the very spot, resolving to make sure first by\nfeeling for the heart beat with his hand. But he reflected that this\nmeant certain destruction for all, since they could by no possibility\nmove the enormous door-stone. As best they might then, he and his\ncrushed followers waited for the dawn.\n\nThey were not long left in doubt as to the monster's intentions toward\nthe rest of them. At daybreak he stretched himself, rose yawning, and\nkindled the fire. Again he milked his herd and cared for them. Again he\nseized two struggling victims and slaughtered and devoured them for his\nmorning meal.\n\nMoving aside the boulder, he drove out goats and sheep, and replaced\nthe door-stone as one might put the lid on a quiver. They heard his\nvast footfalls dying away, and his hoarse calls to his flock, as he\ndrove them over the hills to pasturage. Penned up inexorably, they must\nawait his return and its fresh horrors.\n\nSick at heart as he was, Odysseus thought only of revenge. Earnestly he\nbesought Athene for wisdom. Studying every object in the place, his eye\nreturned again and again to the bole of a green olive tree which lay\nbeside the pen. In size it was fit for the mast of a merchant ship of\ntwenty oars, breasting the open sea; yet clearly the Cyclops was drying\nit out to use for a club-like staff.\n\nLong did the hero ponder. And at last his jaw set and a grim smile\nplayed upon his face. His plan was made.\n\nWhile his followers bemoaned their fate, he stepped across the cavern,\ndrew his short sword and hacked off a six-foot section of this\ntree-trunk. Rolling it across to his men, he bade them shape it down.\nWhen it was smooth, he pointed the tip and charred it in the blazing\nfire till the point was hard. This weapon he hid carefully beneath the\ndry dung with which the cave was littered.\n\nHe explained to his wondering comrades that his idea was to thrust this\ngreat stake into the giant's eye while he slept; and he suggested that\nthey choose by lot four of their number who should help him in this\ndaring attack. They did so, and Odysseus noted with satisfaction that\nchance had given him the very resolute helpers he would have selected.\nHeartening them as best he could, through the long trying hours of\ninaction, the leader awaited their jailer's return.\n\nTowards evening they heard those same portentous sounds of the\nmonster's coming. The door-stone was lifted aside. In poured the\njostling flocks. To the delight of Odysseus not a sheep was left\noutside: that fitted in exactly with his crafty scheme. He contained\nhimself while the giant performed his evening tasks; even when two more\nof the Greeks were slain and devoured, he made no sign.\n\nWhen this ghastly meal was despatched, however, he stepped forward,\nholding in his hands a bowl filled with the dark Ciconian wine.\n\n\"Here, Cyclops,\" said he. \"Drink after your meal and see what we had\naboard our ship. I brought it as an offering, thinking it might move\nyou to send me home. But you defy the laws. How shall a stranger ever\ncome to you again from any people after such a wicked deed?\"\n\nThe giant drained the bowl at one draught, and a look of pleasure\nspread over the horrible features.\n\n\"Give me more, friend,\" he said. \"And tell me your name that I may\nplease you with a stranger's gift. The Cyclops' fruitful fields bear\ngrapes with delicious wine in their heavy clusters; but this is truly\nnectar and ambrosia.\"\n\nOdysseus refilled the bowl with the sparkling wine, and again the giant\ngulped it down. A third time it was replenished, and quickly emptied.\nNoticing that the potent drink was beginning to affect even that huge\nbody, Ulysses answered his question:\n\n\"You ask my name: I will tell it, and do you fulfil your promise of a\nstranger's gift. My name is Noman. Noman am I called by mother, father\nand all my comrades.\"\n\nWith a drunken chuckle the Cyclops answered:\n\n\"Noman I will eat last, after all his comrades: that is the stranger's\ngift.\"\n\nWith that, he sank back, overcome by the wine. In a few moments he was\nsleeping, gorged and intoxicated, horrible to see and hear.\n\nThe moment had come. Odysseus seized the clumsy stake, and thrust the\npoint into the embers of the fire, urging his men to be of stout heart\nand take their one chance.\n\nWhen the point of the green olive trunk was aglow and ready to burst\ninto flame, he snatched it from the fire. His four helpers took it like\na battering-ram. Odysseus himself, standing on a projecting point of\nrock, grasped the butt firmly.\n\nAt the word of command, as if they were boring a ship-beam with a\ndrill, the four plunged the smouldering point into the giant's eye with\nall their strength, while their leader twisted the weapon violently.\n\nThe effect was startling. Blood bubbled around the point. The great\neye-ball hissed like water into which a smith has plunged hot iron to\ntemper it. With a roar that almost deafened them, the giant came to\nlife, and his mighty upheaval hurled the men hither and thither. He\nwrenched the stake from his eye and hurled it from him in a frenzy.\nBut the breathless and terrified sailors perceived with relief that the\nwork had been well done: the monster was blind.\n\nBeside himself with pain and anger he shouted at the top of his voice\nto his fellow Cyclopes who lived in the other caves along the windy\nheights. The hearts of the Greeks stood still with fear as they felt\nthe earth quiver beneath running feet, and heard the cries of the\ngathering giants.\n\nPresently a mighty voice from without demanded:\n\n\"What has happened to you, Polyphemus, that you rend the night with\nyour screams and keep us all from sleep? Is someone carrying off your\nflocks? Are you being murdered by craft or force?\"\n\n\"Friends,\" fairly blubbered the giant. \"Noman is murdering me by craft.\nForce there is none.\"\n\n\"If no man harms you,\" came the reply, \"the ill must come from Zeus and\nthat you cannot fly. Pray to your father Poseidon.\"\n\nDespite the calls and curses of the wounded one, the terrific company\nstrode off, never suspecting the truth; and Odysseus laughed in his\nheart at the success of his simple stratagem.\n\nGroaning in agony, Polyphemus groped about with his hands till he\nfound the door-stone, moved it aside and seated himself with hands\noutstretched, to lay hold of his enemies in case they tried to escape\nwith the sheep.\n\nBut Odysseus had foreseen this contingency, and now set quickly about\nthe final move of his careful plan. He had observed that some of\nthe rams were of a specially fine breed, very large, and covered\nwith a long, heavy blue fleece. Separating these from the rest, he\nquietly bound them together in groups of three with willow withes\nfrom the Cyclops' bed. The middle one of each of these three carried\na man beneath him, guarded on each side by an unridden animal. The\nlargest of the flock he selected to carry himself, hanging beneath\nhis shaggy belly and gripping his back from each side with arms and\nhands completely buried in the enormous fleece. Having made their\npreparations in absolute silence, they anxiously awaited the coming of\nthe day.\n\nAs the first ruddy streaks of dawn became visible through the cave\nmouth, the rams hastened out, eager for pasture, while the unmilked\newes bleated in distress about the enclosure.\n\nPolyphemus, moaning and muttering threats, ran his hands over the back\nof every sheep before he would permit it to go out. Stupidly, he never\nthought of feeling beneath, where the trembling seamen hung in dread of\nbeing detected.\n\nOne after another passed safely out of that gloomy cavern into the\nfresh freedom of the morning. Last of all came the great leader ram\nwith its human freight.\n\n\"What, my pet!\" exclaimed the Cyclops as he felt the creature's back.\n\"Why are you the hindmost of the flock? You were never a laggard, but\nalways first to crop the tender grass, first to drink at the stream,\nfirst to turn homeward at night. Ah, you miss your master's eye,\nwhich that villain and his vile crew have put out. Noman it was--but\nI will have him yet. If only you could speak and tell me where he is\nskulking, how quickly would I dash out his brains. That would help some\nin the misery that scoundrel has brought upon me.\"\n\nHe freed the ram and it trotted quickly out. The moment they were\nsafely away from the enclosure, Odysseus dropped to earth and helped\nhis comrades to free themselves. Then they hastily drove off the fat\nrams towards the shore, casting many an anxious glance behind them, for\nthey feared that at any moment the Cyclops might discover the trick and\ncome down upon them.\n\nThey reached the ship where their staunch comrades welcomed them as\nmen returned from the dead. Checking their laments for the luckless\nones who had perished, Odysseus ordered them to toss the rams aboard as\nquickly as they might. The rowers leaped to their places; the oars hit\nthe water in unison; the galley sped away from that accursed shore.\n\nWhen they had reached the limit of hailing distance, Odysseus stood up\non the poop and shouted to the cave above:\n\n\"Cyclops, those were not a weakling's comrades upon whom you wrought\nyour brutality. It was destined that your crime should find you out,\nwretch who dared to devour a guest within your house. For this has Zeus\nchastised you, Zeus and all the gods of Olympus.\"\n\nThe giant heard, and knew himself outwitted. Frantic with rage, he\nsprang forth from the cabin, tore up a boulder that looked like a whole\nhilltop, and hurled it towards the sound of the taunting voice.\n\nThe mass of rock fell in front of the galley; and it sent such a wave\nsurging backward that the vessel was washed clean back to shore.\n\nIt would have fared badly then with the adventurers had the giant been\nable to see their plight, for they were easily within his grasp. But\nOdysseus seized a setting pole and shoved off again, making signs with\nhis head to the rowers to pull their hardest.\n\nThey put twice as wide a space as before between them and the enemy.\nThen Odysseus rose again to speak to him. Beneath their breath his men\nimplored him to desist:\n\n\"O foolhardy one, why rouse this savage who even now drove us back to\nshore with his missile? We thought all was over then. Had he heard but\na whisper he would have crushed us beneath some jagged mass of granite.\"\n\nTheir leader was not to be moved.\n\n\"Cyclops,\" he cried proudly, \"if ever man asks you of your blinded eye,\nsay it was the deed of Odysseus, spoiler of cities, Laertes' son, whose\nhome is Ithaca.\"\n\nAt that Polyphemus groaned dolefully.\n\n\"Surely the ancient oracles are come upon me! A soothsayer once dwelt\nhere, Telemus the renowned. He told me I should lose my sight through\none Odysseus; but I watched for some mighty one--and now this miserable\npigmy has blinded me after overcoming me with wine. Nevertheless, come\nhither, Odysseus, that I may bestow on you the stranger's gift and beg\nthe Land-shaker to speed you on your journey. His son am I; he can heal\nme if he will.\"\n\nOdysseus laughed in scorn. \"Would I might as surely strip you of life\nand send you to Hades as it is sure the Earth-shaker will never heal\nyour eye.\"\n\nThen for the first time in his life the monster prayed, stretching\nforth his hands to the sky:\n\n\"Hear me, thou girder of the land, dark-haired Poseidon. If I am truly\nthine, and thou art called my father, vouchsafe no coming home to this\nOdysseus, spoiler of cities, Laertes' son, whose home is Ithaca. Yet\nif it be his lot to see his friends once more, and reach his stately\nhome and native land, late let him come, in evil plight, with loss of\nall his crew, on the vessel of a stranger, and may he at his home find\ntrouble.\"\n\nHe finished. His anger burst forth fiercely once more. Heaving up\nanother rock far larger than the first, he swung it back and forth,\nput forth his utmost strength and hurled the mountainous mass out to\nsea. It struck behind the galley, which shot up as if lifted by a tidal\nwave. Odysseus called his order; the oars struck the water; the tough\nshafts bent with the strain; but in a few moments the galley was riding\nsafe beyond the whirlpool and speeding toward the outer island.\n\nBut through all the rejoicings with which they met their comrades\nin the other ships, through the feast, and through the propitiatory\nsacrifice, the heart of Odysseus was heavy within him.\n\nIt was with a solemn brow that he loosed sail at dawn next day and set\nforth to accomplish what remained of his amazing destiny.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nWHEN THOR WENT TO JOTUNHEIM\n\n\nOdin, he of the nine-and-forty names, dwelt in bright Asgard with his\nfellow \u00c6sir and Asynjar. Father of gods and men though he was, born\nthough he was of a giant mother, there was bitter strife between him\nand the vast Frost and Mountain Giants, the seed of Ymir's feet. They\nalone ventured openly to dispute his sovereignty.\n\nMightiest of the other twelve \u00c6sir was the All-father's eldest\nEarth-born son, Thor. Two goats of magical powers drew his chariot;\niron gauntlets he had with which to grasp Miolnir, the hammer that none\nmight withstand; when he girded about his loins the belt of strength,\neven his god-like might was doubled. He alone of all the gods must\nwade the mist-rivers and ascend into Asgard on foot, lest his flaming,\nthundering chariot destroy Bifrost, the trembling rainbow bridge over\nwhich all the rest of the celestial company rode daily to and from the\njudgment-seat below.\n\nMany a Frost-giant had been dashed down into the gloom of Nifelhel by\nthis Miolnir-hammer, which the dwarf artist Sindre had forged for the\nAsa god; but this monster race held the secrets of black sorcery, and\nin this way they were at times a match for the powers of Asgard.\n\nSo Thor discovered on a certain expedition.\n\nOne day he left his vast mansion Bilskirnir, with its five hundred\nand forty halls, and accompanied by Loki, set out towards Jotunheim.\nNorthward they journeyed a whole day, in the goat-drawn car, till they\ncame to Alfheim, where the sons of Ivalde guarded the southern shores\nof the great sea against the giants who dwelt beyond it, lest these\nattempt to attack Asgard from his side.\n\nAs was his custom, Thor stopped for the night at the house of Egil, the\nmaster archer, able to travel on his skiis over both snow and water:\nbrother, too, he was to Volund, craftiest of smiths, who was later\nto forge the sword of victory, fatal even to the gods. There dwelt\nwith Egil his foster-son Thialfi, who had been found as an infant on\na tide-washed sandbar of the sea: he was swiftest of foot of all who\nlived in Midgard, the home of men; for in truth he was that same Frey\nwho afterwards sat in Asgard. He and his sister Roska were very dear to\nEgil.\n\nRight welcome was Thor to Egil. Yet when meal time came there was a\nscarcity of food for the company.\n\n\"Little shall that trouble us,\" cried Thor, with his rumbling laugh\nthat shook the hall. \"The meat I like best is that which carries me\nwhen I do not carry it.\"\n\nFollowed by Loki and the wondering Thialfi, he strode out into the\ndarkness to where his strong-horned goats were stalled.\n\nSmiling at the boy's amazement, he killed the beautiful creatures,\nskinned them, cut up the carcasses with great care, and put the flesh\ninto the kettles to stew. When the meal was ready, he invited all to\njoin, and while Thialfi found it hard to forget the trim and graceful\nanimals, so full of life and spirit, he had to admit that he had never\nbefore tasted such delicious fare.\n\n\"Eat your fill, everybody,\" said Thor. \"None need go hungry when\nTanngniast and Tanngrisnir are on the board. But one caution I must\ngive: not a bone must be broken. When we are through, let the boy\ngather every bone, sort out the two sets, and put one pile in each of\nthe skins by the hearth yonder.\"\n\nWhen all were satisfied, Thor and Egil fell to talk, recounting their\nexpeditions against the foes of the gods in Jotunheim, while Thialfi\nobediently gathered together the bones, and arranged them in the hides.\n\nAn evil smile flitted over the thin face of crafty Loki as he perceived\nthat the two warriors had become completely absorbed in their tales of\npast exploits. Thor was now reminding Egil of that famous adventure\nwhen he himself, wounded in the forehead, had borne his companion with\na frozen foot across the foggy Elivagar water and its magic terrors.\nHe was lost to everything that went on around him, laughing aloud\nand smiting his great thigh as he lived over those moments of tense\nexcitement.\n\nAs Thialfi knelt at the other end of the wide hearth, painstakingly\nstriving to complete his task, he started at a low whisper from the\nshadow beyond.\n\n\"Did you like the meat?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the boy in surprise, looking up. He could hardly see\nthe features of his questioner, but the eyes gleamed, almost like the\nblaze from the burning logs in the fire-place.\n\n\"You have not tasted the best yet,\" said the smooth voice. \"The real\nstrength and sweetness is in the marrow.\"\n\nThialfi stared at him.\n\n\"Yes, that is like honey, and he who eats of it can go for days without\nany other nourishment. Nor can I imagine why he was so stingy as to\nwithhold the best.\"\n\nStill the youth did not know what to say.\n\n\"Better try it,\" continued Loki. \"That long leg-bone there is just full\nof sweetness.\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Thialfi, involuntarily lowering his voice to the same\npitch. \"He forbade us to break any of them.\"\n\n\"What nonsense. Why should you be so careful of that rubbish? You saw\nyourself what he did to the living animals: how could he really mind\nafter that if just one picked bone were a little chipped? You'll never\nhave another chance to taste such fare as only those in Asgard know.\"\n\n\"I don't like to,\" whispered the boy. \"He might be angry.\"\n\n\"Angry! He'll never know. Why should he poke about and find a piece at\nthe bottom of the pile? And if he should notice it, it would simply be\nan accident that might have happened a dozen times already.\"\n\nThialfi hesitated.\n\n\"It makes no difference to me, of course,\" went on the tempter. \"But\nI don't see why you should be deprived of the best part when it can't\npossibly hurt anybody to take it. Besides, I've heard you were a\nwonderful runner, and I have an idea that the one who tastes of that\nmarrow will find his powers marvellously increased.\"\n\nThe youth's eyes shone: he was proud of his ability to outstrip all\nwith whom he had raced, and he could not resist this idea.\n\nGlancing over his shoulder, he saw the pair still deep in their\nreminiscences. With a sudden impulse he thrust the leg bone beneath his\nskin coat, and went quietly out into the darkness. Gently he chipped\noff a piece of the bone and sucked out the marrow. It was delicious,\nas Loki had said, and his excited imagination made him fancy he could\nalready feel a waxing of vigor in his muscles. Yet it was with a guilty\nfeeling that he stole back and hid the fractured piece at the bottom of\none of the piles. Well pleased was Loki, for he believed he had without\ndanger to himself sown enmity between these two defenders of Asgard.\n\nPresently all went to bed. Silence fell upon the great hall and the\nsleeping-rooms; but Thialfi trembled and started and tossed, a prey to\nterrifying dreams.\n\nIt was still dark within the hall when Thor rose, though outside the\ndawn light began to show in the east. He kindled the fire on the\nspreading hearth, and the leaping flames soon brightened the place.\nThialfi awoke. From his couch he could see past the drawn skin curtain\ninto the large apartment. A feeling of panic crept over him as he saw\nthe huge distorted shadow which the fire threw against the wall, now\nshrinking, now shooting up to monstrousness. For the shadow was busy\nwith something that lay beside the hearth--and the youth remembered\nonly too well that all was not right with the contents of those skins.\n\nThor placed the two goats' pelts before him. He took out his great\nhammer, Miolnir, and waved it solemnly over the piles, muttering potent\nwords. Thialfi stretched forward breathlessly to see.\n\nWhat was his amazement when the bundles of dead bones began to stir.\nThe hides moved and stretched and rounded. Before his unbelieving eyes\nthe two trim goats stood up alive, vigorous and handsome as ever.\n\nBut no! One was not as he had been. The poor creature was lame; it\nlimped, dragging one hind leg, as it moved.\n\nThialfi crouched down again, trembling, as he saw the big man bend\nswiftly to examine the injured leg.\n\nThen there was a roar of anger which shook the beams. Everybody was\nrunning in. Miolnir was out once more, not to restore life this\ntime--far from it: Thor was vowing vengeance and threatening to destroy\nhis friend Egil and the whole household for the injury done to this\ncherished possession; his red hair stood out like flames about his\nmassive head; he gripped the terrible hammer so hard that the joints of\nhis fingers showed white in the firelight.\n\nAt that Thialfi dragged himself forward. Half dead with fear, he\nconfessed what he had done, saying not a word of Loki's tempting.\n\nEgil, as much disturbed as his guest, protested his desire to make\namends.\n\n\"Payment is due,\" said he. \"It is for you to state the price.\"\n\nThe sight of the frightened youth had somewhat calmed Thor's anger.\nThis graceful, slender body was no fit object for Miolnir's weight.\nSlowly his vast muscles relaxed.\n\n\"It is the law,\" said he. \"Let him pay who committed the fault: he and\nhis sister shall be my bond-servants from this day forth.\"\n\nThis punishment seemed mild enough to Thialfi; for he was secretly\ndrawn to this open-faced mighty one whose blue eyes harbored no\nmeanness, and who was clearly good-natured despite his sudden bursts of\nfierceness. Moreover, the prospect of roaming abroad with him was far\nfrom displeasing. As for the beautiful Roska--she had nothing to say\nabout it. Anyhow, where Thialfi went was the place she would choose to\nbe.\n\nSo peace was restored, and all sat down to the morning meal content,\nsave crafty Loki.\n\nLeaving the goats with Egil, Thor and his companions set forth on\nfoot. The chill mists and unfathomed depths of the Elivagar sea had\nno terrors for him; but when they had passed over its expanse, they\ncame to a strange and gloomy country surrounding the stronghold of the\ngiants.\n\nEndlessly the forest stretched away; and all day they wandered through\nits pathless mazes without sight of any human being. There was no sign\nof even beast or bird, and while swift-footed Thialfi, who carried\nThor's wallet, scoured the thickets on either side, all his wood-craft\nfailed to discover anything in the way of food.\n\nDarkness settled down upon them almost as soon as the sun disappeared.\nThe question of a place to spend the night became urgent. Searching\non all sides in the gathering dusk, they finally came upon a large\nstructure with an entrance that took up the whole width of one end.\n\nNo one appeared or answered to their shouts; so they entered and lay\ndown in the main hall, glad of any place to lay their heads after their\nexhausting day.\n\nTowards midnight, when they were all slumbering soundly, they were\nrudely awakened by an earthquake which shook the whole building.\nLeaping to their feet, they staggered to and fro over the heaving\nfloor, expecting each moment to feel the roof fall upon their heads.\nBut the swaying stopped presently and Thor bade them seek some place of\nsafety.\n\nTo the right they found a smaller chamber, without any door or curtain;\nand the three crept into the farthest corner of this and dropped down,\ntrembling with fear. Thor, however, remained at the entrance. Holding\nMiolnir ready, he stayed on guard the rest of the night, listening to\nan extraordinary noise like a rushing wind which he could hear outside\nfrom time to time.\n\nAs soon as it was light, he stepped out of the building to investigate\nthis roaring sound.\n\nThere, stretched out on the ground, was a monstrous creature, so huge\nthat he looked like the fallen trunk of some primeval fir tree. He was\nfast asleep, and it was his snoring which had sounded like a howling\nwinter gale.\n\nMany a giant as Thor had seen and encountered, the bulk of this\nman-mountain made him pause in astonishment. Then he quietly girded\nabout him the belt of strength, for if ever he needed to double his\npowers it was now.\n\nJust then the giant opened his eyes, which looked like muddy lakes. He\nyawned, stretched himself and stood up--and his head was almost lost in\nthe tops of the trees.\n\nFor the only time in his history Thor hesitated to join in open battle.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he asked.\n\n\"My name is Skrymir,\" said the other. His voice was like the bellow of\nthe thunder, and Loki, Thialfi and Roska ran to the entrance and looked\nout at the reverberating sound.\n\n\"As for you,\" continued the giant, \"I know you well: you are Asa-Thor.\nBut what have you done with my glove?\"\n\nWith that he stretched down his big hand towards the awed group of\nthree, which scattered before him; and they realized that the building\nin which they had lodged was the creature's glove, the smaller room to\nwhich they had fled being the thumb.\n\n\"Shall we travel together?\" asked Skrymir, smiling in a way that made\nThor's cheeks burn.\n\n\"As you will,\" replied the latter.\n\nThereupon the giant sat down, opened a prodigious wallet, and fell to\nhis breakfast; but Thor and his comrades drew apart by themselves and\nshared their scanty stock of provisions.\n\nWhen they had finished--\n\n\"Here,\" said Skrymir, \"let me carry your food. It will not weigh me\ndown.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust Thor's wallet into his own and started off through\nthe forest with such tremendous strides that they could hardly keep in\nsight of him.\n\nAll day long he led them at this pace amid the endless woods; and\nRoska for one was more than glad, despite her brother's aid, when dusk\nbrought him to a halt beside an ancient oak.\n\n\"We have loitered along slowly enough,\" he said, \"yet I suppose it is\ntime to sleep. I am not hungry; you can take the wallet and get your\nown meal. If you need a roof over your heads, my glove is there.\"\n\nHe stretched himself out and presently was snoring so that one could\nhave heard him a mile away.\n\nDark and silent, Thor finally took the leather bag, to get out their\nfood. His feelings were not smoothed when he found he could not untie\nthe knots. In growing anger he worked away at the stubborn thongs,\nbut he could make no impression on the hard knots. Then, his patience\nexhausted, he tried to break the fastenings. Still they defied his\nefforts.\n\nEnraged at being thus trifled with, he grasped Miolnir, stepped\nforward, and dashed it at the giant's head.\n\nSkrymir stirred himself slightly.\n\n\"What was that--a leaf?\" he asked sleepily. \"Have you little ones\nsupped yet? Have you gone to sleep?\"\n\n\"We are just lying down,\" muttered Thor. Puzzled and upset, he strode\noff and lay down under another oak.\n\nBut he could not sleep. The stertorous snores of the giant seemed to\nmock him.\n\nFinally he sprang up again and walked cautiously back. The moonlight\nshone full on the giant's bulky form. Heaving his hammer aloft, he\nlaunched it with such violence that the head buried itself in Skrymir's\nskull.\n\n\"What's happening?\" called out the giant, rolling over. \"An acorn\ndropped right on my head. How do you fare, Thor?\"\n\n\"All right,\" called back the other, stealing away behind the tree\ntrunks. \"I woke when you called out. There is plenty of time to sleep\nyet.\"\n\nAgain all was quiet, except in Thor's breast, where rage and\nhumiliation contended in a turmoil. He forced himself to lie still,\ncalming his burning wrath with the assurance that when the moment came\nfor a third blow, he would take ample revenge for this disgrace. The\ncreature did not exist who could treat Asa-Thor in this manner.\n\nA long time he waited both to recover his poise and to be sure the\nother was really asleep again. At length, a little before daybreak, he\nrose softly, and again approached the slumbering giant.\n\nHis hands ran over the magic belt as if to draw from it the last bit\nof aid. Gripping Miolnir with both hands, he summoned up every power\nof his heaving muscles. The remembrance of his failures burned in his\nveins and seemed to double his strength and determination.\n\nHe whirled the irresistible Miolnir about his head, and brought it down\nwith his utmost force upon the sleeper. To his grim satisfaction, he\nsaw it smash into the giant's cheek up to the very handle.\n\nTo his consternation, Skrymir sat up and appeared to brush something\nfrom his face.\n\n\"There must be birds roosting in this tree,\" said he disgustedly. \"How\ncan one sleep when they are scratching moss and bark loose so that it\nfalls over one's head?\"\n\nHe looked about.\n\n\"What! Are you awake, too, Thor? I suppose it is time to get up anyhow;\nfor you say you want to get to Utgard. The city is not far now. I must\nwarn you, though, of one thing. I have heard you whispering together\nas if you thought my size was something remarkable; but if you go to\nUtgard, you will see many far taller than I. So I counsel you against\nmaking much of yourselves, for Utgard-Loki's men will have little\npatience with the boasting of such mannikins. Indeed, if you are wise,\nyou will turn back at once. However, if you persist in your folly,\nyour road lies east. I go northward, to those cliffs in the distance\nyonder.\"\n\nHe threw his wallet over his shoulder and went off, unheeding Thor's\nresentful glare.\n\nFollowing his directions, the party presently passed out of the forest,\nand travelled over a wide plain.\n\nTowards noon they came upon the city of Utgard. So lofty were its walls\nand buildings that their heads bent back on their necks as they gazed\nup to the pinnacles of the towers.\n\nWhen they came close, they saw nobody; but a vast gate of ponderous\nbars closed the way. It was locked and bolted. After trying for some\ntime to call a keeper, and then to unfasten the gate, Thor and his\ncomrades squeezed between the bars and entered the silent city.\n\nThey went through one deserted street after another, till they saw\nbefore them a magnificent palace, whose door stood wide. Walking boldly\nin, they found themselves in a hall that dwarfed anything they had ever\nbeheld. Sitting on benches were ranged two lines of men, the first\nglance at whom convinced the travellers that Skrymir had spoken truly.\n\nAdvancing to the raised seat, they saluted the ruler, Utgard-Loki. But\nthe king gazed at them with a smile. Thor was by no means accustomed\nto such scornful treatment, and his companions could perceive his heat\ngrowing as this contemptuous silence continued.\n\nAt length the king spoke:\n\n\"It is tedious to ask for tidings of a long journey; yet if I mistake\nnot, that little one there must be Asa-Thor.\"\n\n\"Possibly,\" he went on, addressing Thor directly, \"you may be more\nthan you appear. What can you do, you and these with you? No one stays\nin Utgard unless he can in some feat of skill or strength excel all\nothers.\"\n\n\"I have a feat,\" spoke up Loki. \"I can eat quicker than any here. I am\nready to prove it against all.\"\n\n\"That will be worth seeing, if you can make your boast good,\" said the\ngiant king. \"It shall be put to the test.\"\n\nHe called to one named Logi, sitting on a further bench. A trough\nfilled with fresh meat was brought in, and placed between the two. At\nthe signal, both began to eat, one from each end.\n\nLoki strove his utmost, and yet when he reached the middle of the\ntrough he met his antagonist there. Moreover, it was seen that while he\nhad devoured all the flesh on his side, Logi had consumed flesh, bone\nand the trough to boot. There could be no gainsaying that the visitor\nwas vanquished.\n\n\"And what can you do?\" asked Utgard-Loki, looking at Thialfi.\n\n\"I can run,\" said the youth.\n\n\"We shall soon see about that. Let us go outside to the course.\"\n\nThe whole company went forth to a level stretch of plain. A slim youth\nwhom they called Hugi took his place beside Thialfi. The latter, who\nhad never been beaten in swiftness, smiled confidently.\n\nThe word was given. The two runners were off like arrows from the bow.\nBut Thialfi could hardly credit his eyes when, before he had covered\nhalf the distance to the turning-point, he met Hugi coming back already.\n\n\"You will have to ply your legs better than that,\" said Utgard-Loki,\n\"if you expect to win in this company.\"\n\nA second course was run. Thialfi strained every nerve and muscle to the\nutmost. His heart beat as if it would burst through his ribs. Yet Hugi\nreached the goal when he was still a bowshot off.\n\n\"You run bravely,\" remarked the king. \"Still, it seems to me this match\nwill not be yours. The third trial must decide.\"\n\nOnce more they toed the mark and sped away. Thialfi did his best, but\nhe was wearied with his last effort; his swift adversary crossed the\nfinish line ere he had quite gone halfway.\n\nThe whole assemblage declared there was no need of further trial.\nUtgard-Loki turned to Thor.\n\n\"We have heard much of your prowess, Asa. What is your choice to prove\nto us that rumor's tales are true?\"\n\n\"I will drink a draught with any of you,\" growled Thor between his\nteeth.\n\n\"Excellent,\" returned the king. He led the way back into the hall, and\nbade his cup-bearer bring the drinking-horn. It was borne forth.\n\n\"A good drinker,\" remarked Utgard-Loki, \"empties this at a single\ndraught. Some men make two of it. The puniest of all can take it off in\nthree.\"\n\nThor looked at the horn critically. It did not appear of extra size,\nthough the end stretched away behind the bearer. Moreover, he was very\nthirsty. So little doubt had he of emptying it at a draught, that he\ndid not pause to take breath, but set it to his lips and pulled long\nand deeply.\n\nHe set it down with a clatter, thinking to ask for more. To his\nchagrin, he could hardly perceive any lowering of the liquor.\n\n\"Well!\" exclaimed the king. \"Surely that is not much for Asa-Thor to\nboast of. I would not have believed it if it had been told me. Perhaps,\nthough, you were saving yourself for a second draught.\"\n\nWithout answering, Thor seized the horn once more and quaffed a mighty\ndraught. Yet on looking in, it seemed as if he had made less impression\nthan before. Still the vessel could now be carried without spilling.\n\nThe king shook his head. \"A man must use his own sort of skill.\nCertainly, though, you have left most of the task for your last\nattempt. I fear your reputation here will hardly match what you have in\nAsgard if this is a sample of your prowess.\"\n\nToo angry to speak now, Thor grasped the horn again. Tilting it back,\nhe drank and drank till he thought he would burst with the effort. But\nwhen he could do nothing more, he found he had emptied only the top\ninch or two.\n\nHe handed the horn back to the cup-bearer.\n\n\"I see plainly,\" said Utgard-Loki, \"that what we have heard of you was\na traveller's tale. Still, do you wish to try something else? I confess\nit does not seem likely that you will bear away many prizes here.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Thor replied doggedly, \"that such draughts would not be\naccounted small among the \u00c6sir--but I will attempt another feat. What\nhave you to propose?\"\n\n\"We have a game here, a sort of childish exercise. Before witnessing\nthis last performance, I would scarce have dared mention it to\nAsa-Thor. It is merely lifting my cat from the floor.\"\n\nA large gray cat walked out, its tail held high.\n\nThor looked at it, uncertain.\n\n\"He is large--for a cat,\" said the king.\n\nStung to the quick, Thor stepped forward, put a hand under the beast's\nbelly and lifted hard.\n\nThe cat arched his back, not resisting at all. Heave and strain as he\nmight, Thor could only get one paw off the floor.\n\n\"I imagined as much,\" said Utgard-Loki. \"Even my cat is too large for\nsuch a little one.\"\n\n\"Little I may be,\" cried Thor. \"Yet let me see the man here who will\nwrestle with me at this moment.\"\n\nUtgard-Loki looked at the massive figures ranged along the benches.\n\n\"I see no one small enough for that. If you must wrestle, however--call\nold Elli, the nurse. She has thrown many a better man than you have yet\nproved yourself.\"\n\nIn came a bent, withered, toothless old crone. At the king's bidding,\nshe grappled with the aroused Thor.\n\nViolently he strove, till the muscles on his arms and legs stood out\nlike ropes. Locking his mighty arms, he strained this way and that. The\nmore he put forth his power, the firmer did the frail old woman seem to\nstand.\n\nThen Thor began to feel an inexorable grip tightening upon himself. He\nstruggled as if his very life hung on the issue. Yet his legs began to\nbend. Presently he was forced down upon one knee.\n\nOld Elli released him and hobbled off. With heaving breast, dripping\nsweat, and vastly ashamed, Thor stood up before them.\n\n\"We need hardly further trial,\" said Utgard-Loki. \"Besides, it grows\nlate. Show them to the guest seats.\"\n\nThey were made welcome, and feasted that night with good cheer.\n\nNext morning they prepared to depart. Utgard-Loki saw that they were\nbountifully provided with food and drink. He himself conducted them to\nthe gate of the city.\n\n\"Well, Asa-Thor,\" said he, as they were about to separate, \"are you\nsatisfied with your visit to Utgard? Have you seen more powerful rulers\nelsewhere on your journeys?\"\n\n\"Truly,\" replied honest Thor, \"I have brought great shame upon the\n\u00c6sir. Justly will ye say that I am one of little worth.\"\n\n\"Hardly that,\" said the giant king. \"Now that you are outside of my\ncity--which with my consent you will never enter again--I must tell\nyou the truth. Had I imagined your powers and how near they would have\nbrought me to disaster, you would by no means have seen the inside of\nit this time.\n\n\"Know, then, that I have deceived you all along with illusions.\n\n\"The wallet you could not open in the forest was bound with invisible\niron wire. The least of the three strokes of your hammer would have\nended my days: I brought before me a rocky mountain which you could not\nsee; in this you will find three deep ravines, made by those blows.\n\n\"The contests here were illusions likewise.\n\n\"Though Loki ate like hunger, Logi who outmatched him was ardent fire\nitself.\n\n\"Hugi was thought: how could even swift Thialfi keep pace with him?\n\n\"The horn you tried to empty reached to the sea; when you come to the\nshore you will see your draughts have caused the ocean itself to ebb.\nWhen we saw you lift one of the cat's paws from the floor, we were all\nterror-stricken: for the cat was in reality the great Midgard serpent\nwhich encompasses the whole earth. Nurse Elli was in fact old age--and\nnever yet has man wrestled with her as have you.\n\n\"Therefore, let us never meet again. For in spite of all the marvels\nof your strength, you can never prevail against me because of my\nillusions.\"\n\nWild with anger, Thor laid hold of Miolnir. But Utgard-Loki had\nvanished. He would have destroyed the city, but even that had\ndisappeared, leaving only a smooth and verdant plain.\n\nThere was no help for it save to return to their own land; and in truth\nas the Asa reflected upon what had happened, he was not so ill pleased\nas before.\n\nEspecially did he recall his feat of lifting the Midgard serpent; and\nthe remembrance of his incredible exploit fired him with a resolution\nto match himself once more against this monstrous world-encircling\nprogeny of Loki.\n\nIt was not long thereafter when he determined to wait no more for this.\nSo hastily did he set out that he took neither car, nor goats, nor\nfollowers.\n\nIn the semblance of a young man he travelled forth, and at dusk came to\nthe dwelling of a giant named Hymir, who lived by the Elivagar water.\n\nHere he passed the night. At the evening meal he alone ate two of the\noxen Hymir had prepared.\n\n\"I shall have to go fishing tomorrow to feed you,\" grumbled the host.\n\nIn the morning Hymir made his boat ready to go fishing. Thor offered to\naccompany him.\n\n\"Much use a midget like you would be,\" returned the giant. \"You\ncan eat, of a certainty; but rowing is quite another matter. Worse\nthan that, you would get cold and terrified if I go out to my\nfishing-grounds and stay as I am accustomed to.\"\n\nSorely tempted to try Miolnir on the giant's skull, Thor dissembled:\n\n\"I will row as far as you say. We shall see which wishes to turn back\nfirst. What bait do we use?\"\n\n\"Get a bait for yourself,\" returned the surly fellow.\n\nThor walked off to where the herd of oxen grazed. The leader was a huge\ncoal-black bull. Seizing the beast by its horns, the Asa wrung off its\nhead, carried it back to the boat and threw it in.\n\n\"Better if you had sat still,\" grumbled Hymir.\n\nThey pushed the boat through the breakers and put out to sea, each\nrowing with a pair of oars. Thor was aft, and Hymir was amazed to see\nhow the boat shot through the waves, even against the strong wind.\n\nBefore long the giant pulled in his oars.\n\n\"Here is where I catch flat fish,\" said he.\n\n\"No, no; further out,\" said Thor, pulling harder than ever.\n\n\"Stop!\" cried Hymir after a while. \"We are getting near the dwelling of\nthe Midgard serpent.\"\n\n\"Further out is better fishing,\" declared Thor; and he rowed on in\nspite of his companion's protests.\n\nHe stopped at last. Muttering, Hymir threw out his line. Presently he\ndrew up a whale. Then another took hold.\n\nMeanwhile Thor had taken out a line and hook, the size of which caused\nthe giant to stare. Fastening the gory bull's head on the hook, he\ndropped it far down into the depths, till it actually reached the\nbottom.\n\nHe did not have to wait long. Something far down there seized the bait.\nThe line tautened. Thor jerked violently. When the monster felt the\nhook, it pulled so hard that Thor was forced to hold on to the rowing\npins to avoid being dragged overboard.\n\nThen the Asa's spirit waxed high. He hauled at the line so that his\nfeet went through the bottom of the boat and down to the ocean floor.\nYet ever he pulled, so stoutly that presently the hideous head of the\nMidgard snake appeared above the surface.\n\nNothing daunted by the floods of venom which the beast spouted out at\nhim, Thor darted fiery glances at his enemy, still striving to lift the\nhead into the boat.\n\nHymir, however, terrified beyond measure and feeling the craft sink\nbeneath him, took his knife out of the sheath and cut the line just as\nThor launched his hammer.\n\nThe monster fell back and sank again to his immemorial abode.\n\nWe know not whether those speak truly who declare that Miolnir struck\noff its head at the bottom of the sea, or whether it still lies\nencircling the earth. But it is related among the exploits of Alexander\nthe Great that being lowered in a glass cage to the depths of the\nocean he beheld a prodigious monster going past, and sat for two days,\nwatching its body ooze along all the time, before its \"tail and hinder\nparts\" appeared. Which sounds as if Thor had not made a thorough job of\nit.\n\nCertain it is, however, that Hymir said no word till they were again at\nthe shore. Then he muttered:\n\n\"Do your share: carry the whales in or make the boat fast.\"\n\nWhereupon Thor picked up boat, oars, whales and all, and bore the whole\nthing up the wooded hillside to the Jotun's dwelling.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE GIANT PYRAMID-BUILDER\n\n\nIf you travel through that beautiful land of lakes and mountains north\nof the City of Mexico, you will hardly fail to visit the ancient sacred\ncity of Cholula. Nor can you fail to marvel at the remains of that\nincredible Pyramid, four times as large as the famous Pyramid of Cheops\nin Egypt.\n\nCortes and his followers wondered at the fifty-acre structure nearly\nfour centuries back. Humboldt measured it, studied it and speculated\nabout it a hundred years ago. The general belief was that it had always\nbeen devoted to the worship of Quetzal, that Fair God of old Mexico.\nBut there were once wise ancients among the Acolhuan Indians who\nremembered the truth passed down by tradition from times immemorial.\n\nThis is the tale of the Pyramid-builder.\n\nAs everyone knows, for 4800 years after the creation of the world the\nland of Anahuac was inhabited by a race of vast giants. (Have not their\nmighty bones, dwarfing those of modern men, been dug up time and again\nthrough the centuries?)\n\nThese monsters were enemies both of gods and men. Fierce were the wars\nwaged against them by the people of Tlascala, and many a giant was\novercome by their multitudes, or driven forth into the wilderness to\nperish of starvation.\n\nAlways, however, there were enough of the dreadful race left to keep\nthe land in an uproar; and particularly one Xelhua and his six brothers\ndefied all attempts against them, holding themselves above laws, and\ndoing only that which pleased their own ruthless cruelty. Very crafty\nas well as very strong they were, and the land of Anahuac groaned\nbeneath their devastating tread. Finding there was none alive who might\nresist them, they waxed arrogant past belief, and scorned the very gods\nabove, confident that there was no power in earth or heaven which could\nresist their will.\n\nBut at last the heavenly rulers grew wearied of this senseless\ntumult below. They determined to put an end to it all, and poured\nforth an overwhelming deluge on the earth. The clouds burst wide and\nprecipitated their inexhaustible reservoirs; the irresistible ocean\nitself was loosed from its bounds; the underground rivers shot up from\nbeneath the earth upon men and giants alike, and those who were not\ndrowned were transformed into fishes.\n\nAll except crafty Xelhua and his six brothers: as the flood from above\nmet the rising sea, they fled northward, climbed the lofty slopes\nof Mt. Tlaloc and hid themselves in seven caverns within its sides,\nrolling huge boulders in front of the openings to shut out the waters\nshould they rise so high. Here they lay secure while the deluge raged\nunchecked throughout the universe.\n\nWhen the appointed time came, the destroying waters withdrew to their\nstations above the clouds, beneath the earth, and in the ocean. Xelhua\nand his brothers came forth from their caves of refuge, the only living\ncreatures, and by their arts peopled the earth with a new race, who\nwere to be their servants.\n\nThey were now more arrogant than before,--for had they not succeeded\nin evading the utmost wrath of the gods? So Xelhua, who was skilled in\nbuilding, determined to erect a structure such as the world had not yet\nseen--to serve not only as a perpetual memorial of his triumph, but\nalso as an easier means of escape from any future attempt made against\nhim by the lords of the winds and waters.\n\nOn the plain of Cholula this edifice was staked out, four sided, in\ngirth like some great hill, in height planned to pierce the very clouds\naloft.\n\nIn far-away Tlamanalco, at the foot of the Sierra, a multitude of men\nwere set to work at digging clay, shaping it in moulds, and burning\nit into bricks. Instead of having these heavy loads carried across\nthe hills, Xelhua stationed a line of workmen all the way from the\nbrickyard to Cholula: these passed the bricks from hand to hand\ncontinually, so that the builders never lacked a supply. Bitumen too\nwas similarly brought from a great distance to plaster the bricks\nfirmly in place.\n\nUnder the hands of these myriads of workers the foundation of the\nincredible Pyramid grew as if it were a living thing. Day by day it\nmounted upwards, and the heart of Xelhua waxed high with pride when\neven he had to climb laboriously to reach the dizzy level where the\nswarming ant-like laborers still built themselves aloft bodily. Looking\nupwards, he regretted that he had not planned an even larger base:\nfor surely that was the only thing which in any way limited this\nmonument to his power and guarantee of future security. There was one\nconsolation: when this reached the apex of its sloping sides, he could\nbuild another, infinitely larger and loftier. Meanwhile, a future\ndeluge must be worse than the former one to reach him upon the summit\nof this almost completed structure.\n\nBut the gods do not sleep, though they be long silent.\n\nWith rising wrath they beheld the growth of this presumptuous edifice\nand the increasing audacity of its builder. Still they bided their\ntime, and the pyramid of Xelhua crept upwards till the low-hanging\nclouds often lay far beneath its upper courses.\n\nThe day came when a man might easily count the space of time still\nneeded to complete the structure. Xelhua urged on his host of workers.\n\nThen suddenly the heavens opened. A huge mass of flaming rock fell with\nirresistible force upon the proud pyramid and those that built it. The\nupper portion crashed down in ruins, carrying to destruction thousands\nof the laborers and the master-builder Xelhua himself.\n\nWherefore men doubted no longer that there were eternal powers on\nhigh. The fragment of the building which remained was dedicated\nthenceforth to the Fair God, Quetzal. And down to the time of that\nworthy Dominican, Pedro de los Rios, the priests showed to unbelievers\na portion of the very thunderbolt, a stone shaped like a toad, which\nhad confounded the mad presumption of Xelhua; while the dancing\ncelebrants sang in their festival hymn the tale of these happenings,\nthat reverence might no more perish among men.\n\nMoreover, since that day the tribes have no longer spoken the same\ntongue, but each has a language of its own, unintelligible to the\nothers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE FATAL PRIDE OF VUKUB\n\n\nThe Maya race, now living mostly in Guatemala and Yucatan, seem to be\nthe descendants of a people whose civilization was old long before the\nappearance of those Aztecs whom Cortes found ruling in Mexico.\n\nTheir wise men, like those of Cholula, knew from their fathers that\nthere was a time when the earth had not yet recovered from the effects\nof the flood, and when mighty giants walked abroad. Nay, more, they\ntook the pains to set down the facts in the only native American book\nwe have which dates back to the times before Columbus--the Popol Vuh,\nor Collection of Written Leaves.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe submerging waters had returned to their appointed places on, above,\nand below the earth; but the face of both sun and moon were still\nveiled, and shone not with their wonted splendor.\n\nIn this twilight period there lived a gigantic being named Vukub-Cakix,\nfor his countenance shone with seven times the brilliance of flame.\n\nHis eye-balls gleamed like silver set with precious stones; the enamel\nof his teeth was so brilliant that to look at them was like gazing at\nsome gleaming emerald, or the light-filled face of the sky. There was\nnothing in all the world that gave forth light like the eyes and teeth\nof Vukub.\n\nGreat as was his radiant beauty, his pride was greater still. Orgulous\nwas he and puffed-up. And he said:\n\n\"Of a truth, only those have been saved from the flood who were above\ntheir fellow men. And of all those left alive there is not one like\nunto me. I am their sun, their dawn, and their moon. It is my splendor\nby which men come and go. I can see to the limits of creation, and it\nis so.\"\n\nThus he spoke in his arrogance. Nor was his pride lessened when he\nlooked upon his two giant sons: Zipacna, who ruled the cloud-piercing\npeaks, and Cabrakan, at whose word the mountains belched forth fire,\nand the earth trembled in sudden convulsions. Moreover, there was none\nwho dared deny that only when he advanced from his throne did the world\ncome to life.\n\nBut the gods on high were not deaf to this boasting. They heard and\nsmiled when Vukub said: \"I am the Sun\"; they smiled when Zipacna said:\n\"I heaped-up and rule the mountains\"; and again they smiled when\nCabrakan said: \"I shake the sky and earth.\"\n\nNevertheless, when they perceived that all on earth bowed in assent\nbefore these vain boasters, they stirred up against them the hearts\nof the marvellous twin brothers Hun-Apu and Xbalanque. Miraculously\nborn of an earthly princess, these brethren had become heroes of many\nsurprising adventures; none might compete with them at tlachtli, that\nuniversal form of hockey by which a man's prowess was measured; deadly\nwere the long blow-pipes they carried over their shoulders; and withal\nthey were very crafty.\n\n\"It is not good that this should be,\" said the brethren, when they\nheard the vaunts of Vukub. \"Let us put an end to the jewels by reason\nof which he is so puffed-up.\"\n\nNow, next to his light-giving features, the thing dearest to Vukub was\na huge nanze tree, a tapal, loaded with its round, yellow, aromatic\nfruit; and each morning he was wont to breakfast on this delicious fare.\n\nComing one day as usual, he climbed up to the summit of the lofty tree\nthat he might take his choice of the most luscious fruit. Very wrathful\nwas he this morning, when he perceived that the spreading branches were\nalmost completely stripped of the bountiful supply which had hung there\nthe day before.\n\nHe glared about to see who had dared to do this thing, and his anger\ngrew ten times greater when he perceived the twins, almost hidden in\nthe thick foliage.\n\nBefore he could attack them, Hun-Apu raised the blow-pipe to his mouth\nand sped a dart which buried itself in the giant's cheek. With a\nfrightful screech he fell from the tree-top to the ground.\n\nQuickly the brothers descended, and ran to seize the groaning giant;\nbut he grasped the arm of Hun-Apu with so fell a grip that he tore it\ncompletely away from the shoulder; whereupon they fled from him in\nhaste.\n\nStill holding his enemy's arm, and pressing his hand against the\nwounded jaw, Vukub made his way home, groaning aloud.\n\n\"What has happened to my lord?\" asked his wife.\n\n\"Those wicked ones have shot a dart into my cheek which tortures me\nbeyond endurance. But I have torn off the arm of one of them; and I\nshall revenge myself by roasting it over the fire till the pain drives\nthat demon to come for it.\"\n\nSo he suspended the arm before the fire, bidding his wife never cease\nturning it over the blazes, and lay down groaning more than ever: for\nthe teeth of which he was so proud now caused him an anguish he could\nnot bear. Moreover, the pain had extended even to his shining eye-balls.\n\nMeanwhile the brothers, in order to combat this magic torture, had\nconsulted a pair of mighty sorcerers. Man and wife were this ancient\ncouple; their hair was white as the snows upon the mountain peaks, and\nthe woman was bent double when she sat or stood or walked. Between them\nthey fashioned a subtle plan.\n\nVukub lay before his golden throne, moaning and howling with the pain\nthat affected him, so that his cries could be heard afar off without\nthe palace.\n\nThere came one who told him that two doctors were at the door,\nenquiring who it might be that suffered so greatly. He ordered that\nthey should be admitted.\n\nIn hobbled a very ancient white-haired man and woman. Even in his agony\nthe heart of Vukub was pleased to notice that the woman bowed almost\ndouble as she came before him.\n\n\"Who are you, and what do you wish?\" said the giant king.\n\n\"We are doctors, mighty Lord. Hearing one cry out we stopped to enquire\nthe trouble: for we make our living by curing ailments.\"\n\n\"Who are those behind you--your sons?\" demanded Vukub suspiciously,\nnoticing two slim figures, dressed in skins, in the rear.\n\n\"Not so, lord. These are our grandchildren. Their father and mother are\nboth dead, and they follow us everywhere as we go about to heal, since\nonly thus can we get food for us all.\"\n\n\"What can you heal? Can you ease this pain which devours me?\"\n\n\"Doubtless we can, for we are wise in all arts--though our special\nknowledge is that of removing aching teeth.\"\n\n\"Teeth!\" exclaimed the king, groaning afresh, and scarcely able to\nspeak. \"That is what is killing me--they and my eyes.\"\n\n\"Let me see,\" said the old man. He bent forward and examined the\nwounded cheek. \"Ah, you have a bad wound there. No wonder you suffer.\"\n\n\"It was those demons who shot me with a blow-pipe,\" said Vukub thickly.\n\"Cure me if you can, and you shall not complain of your reward.\"\n\n\"It will be necessary to remove those teeth,\" said the sorcerer. \"Also\nI think the eye-ball is diseased already.\"\n\n\"What! Remove my teeth which give light to all the world! Impossible.\"\n\n\"Are they not loose in the jaw anyhow?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, they move in their sockets--and when they do so, deadly\npains run throughout my body.\"\n\n\"You see they must come out. But have no fear: such is our skill that\nwe will replace them with others more beautiful by far. More, we will\nremove them all, so that the new set will be alike. Even the eye-balls\nwe will match as before.\"\n\n\"If you are sure--,\" began Vukub. Then, as the pain gripped\nhim,--\"Quick! Do as you say. I cannot eat; not once have I slept\nsince those evil ones shot me; surely I shall die if I be not healed\nspeedily. But use all your arts: for it is because of the beauty of my\nteeth and my eyes that I am king.\"\n\n\"Rest assured. Pure and strong and polished will be the new teeth that\nwe shall put in their place.\"\n\n\"Hurry,\" said Vukub.\n\nThen the two cunning sorcerers, aided by the disguised twins, removed\nthe shining teeth, while the giant howled and wept. And in place of\nthem they inserted only grains of white maize.\n\nImmediately his splendor fell. He knew within himself that he was no\nlonger the dawn and the moon. Nor was he able to resist when they\nproceeded to remove the gleaming eye-balls which still gave lustre to\nhis countenance.\n\nBut when these also were gone, Vukub-Cakix ceased to be. For without\nhis colossal pride he was not.\n\nAll this time his wife had been busily turning the severed arm over\nthe fire, to increase the torments of its absent owner. Hun-Apu now\nsnatched the arm, and with the aid of powerful incantations by the\nsorcerers, replaced it firmly in its socket. Whereupon the brothers\nwent away, well content in that they had humbled the pride of Vukub.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd it is set down in the Written Leaves how later on they overcame\nthrough craft both of those gigantic sons of the Proud One, so that the\nseed of the earth-giants perished utterly from among the Mayas.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nOG, KING OF BASHAN\n\n\nThe Hebrew chroniclers tell us that the giants of their land were the\nchildren of the fallen angels who took to themselves wives from the\nbeautiful daughters of men. When these huge beings had consumed the\npossessions of their neighbors, they began to devour even the human\nbeings themselves; and from this horrible example men came to kill and\neat birds, animals and fishes.\n\nOf these terrific and wicked ones, merely to glance at whom made one's\nheart grow weak, the most celebrated was Og. His mother Enac was a\ndaughter of Adam. Like all of his race he was by nature half mortal:\nfor being part angel, part human, these monsters, after a very long\nlife, found themselves with but half a body, the rest having withered\naway; and with the prospect of remaining forever in this uncomfortable\nstate, they were wont either to plunge into the sea or to end this\nmiserable half existence by means of a magic herb, the secret of which\nhad been transmitted by their celestial ancestors. Og, however, was\ndestined, in this as in other matters, for a different fate from that\nof his brethren.\n\nWhen the wickedness and arrogance of the Cainites brought the Flood\nupon the earth, Noah, as commanded, gathered his family and the animals\ninto the ark he had built. All the rest of the miserable folk perished\nin the waters--with the single exception of the giant Og. The latter\nhad persuaded Noah to save him by promising that he and his descendants\nwould in return serve the family of Noah forever. But when they came\nto embark, it was discovered that the vessel was not large enough to\naccommodate this huge creature; so he was permitted to sit on top of\nthe ark; and during those weary months when the waters covered the face\nof the earth, those within passed food to the giant through a hole in\nthe roof.\n\nThere are, indeed, writers who declare that Og escaped because his\nstature was such that the deluge at its deepest reached only to his\nknees, he being accustomed to drink water direct from the clouds.\nIn fact, Abba Saul avers: \"I once hunted a stag which fled into the\nthigh-bone of a dead man. I pursued it and ran along three parasangs\"\n(about eight miles!) \"of the thigh-bone, yet had not yet reached its\nend\"--and this bone proved to be a portion of Og's skeleton. In Moses'\ntime, however, the giant's great iron-bedstead--\"is it not in Rabbath\nof the children of Ammon?\"--was a mere thirteen or fourteen feet long.\nWhatever his height, his breadth was half as great, instead of only\none-third as in the normal man.\n\nThere was also one animal too large to enter the ark, the re\u00ebm or\nunicorn. It was therefore tied to the stern and \"ran on behind.\"\nUndoubtedly this difficult mode of travelling proved fatal, since we\nhave no authentic record of that beast since then.\n\nOg had better fortune. Whether wading or bestriding the vessel, he\nwon through; for we find him again some hundreds of years later as the\nslave of Abraham, to whom he had been presented by Nimrod. (He was, say\nthe rabbins, that very steward called Eliezer in the Bible account.)\nFinally, after these centuries of servitude, his master freed him as a\nreward for bringing back Rebekah as a bride for his son Isaac.\n\n\"God also rewarded him in this world, that this wicked wight might not\nlay claim to a reward in the world to come. He therefore made a king\nof him.\" He had also received another doubtful reward for a difficult\nservice. Hearing that Abraham's nephew Lot had been carried away into\ncaptivity, he sped with the news, and stood by when all others were\nfearful, thinking in his heart that his master would hasten to his\nkinsman's help, and would be killed by the marauding kings--which would\nleave the beautiful Sarah as his own prize. Consequently he was granted\nanother five hundred years of life, but on the conclusion of that term\nhe was to be completely mortal.\n\nLong did this gigantic monarch of gigantic adventures reign in Bashan,\neast of the Jordan River. Sixty walled cities did he found, and great\nwas his power and fame in all that land. Of his own race to the south\nwas Sihon, King of the Amorites; and across the Dead Sea was another\nfamily of his blood, Anak and his sons and daughters. All the kings\nof Canaan paid tribute to Og of Bashan in return for the defence of\ntheir borders by his might. Even had he known of it, he would have\nbeen little troubled to hear that the Israelitish slaves of Pharaoh\nhad escaped from bondage in Egypt, and were slowly moving northward\nthrough the desert towards Canaan.\n\nGreat indeed would have been his amusement had he seen the slinking\nspies sent out by Moses, when they reached the \"City of Four\"\n(Kiriath-Arba, or Hebron), where dwelt Anak and his mighty brood. At\nthe mere shout of one of the sons the spies fell down as dead men; and\none day the Israelites heard the Anakim roar to each other as they\nlooked toward the trembling strangers: \"There are grasshoppers by the\ntrees that have the semblance of men.\"\n\nBut in spite of the timorous report of most of these scouts--\"we be not\nable to go up against these people; for they are stronger than we\"--the\nday arrived when word came to Og that this band of wanderers had\nsmitten the Amorites, and killed Sihon and his son, and captured the\nimpregnable city of Heshbon, and taken possession of all that region.\n\nThis brought the invaders to the very edge of Og's dominions, and when\nthey had rested, they pressed on against the stronghold of Edrei.\n\nToward night they reached the outskirts, and Moses prepared to attack\nthe following day. At dawn he rose and went forward to reconnoitre; but\nas he looked ahead through the grayness he cried out:\n\n\"Behold, in the night they have built up a new wall about the city!\"\n\nThen the light grew gradually stronger, and he perceived that what he\nhad taken for a new fortification was the giant king himself, who sat\nupon the wall with his feet touching the earth.\n\nSore dismayed was the Israelitish host at sight of this incredible\nbeing, who gazed upon them with scornful confidence. Even Moses himself\nhesitated and began to feel doubtful. Not only did ordinary weapons\nseem unavailing against such a prodigy, but he reflected that this\ngiant was reputed to have lived for hundreds of years: \"Surely he could\nnever have attained so great an age had he not performed meritorious\ndeeds.\" He reflected too that Og was the only one of the original giant\nbrood who had escaped the sword of the angel Amraphel, and it seemed\ntherefore as if he must be under some sort of divine protection.\n\nWhile he thus communed with himself and sought for guidance in prayer,\nhe seemed to hear from on high a direct answer to his questionings:\n\n\"What matters to thee Og's gigantic stature? He is as a green leaf in\nthy hand.\"\n\nAt this he took courage. Yet he could not understand in what manner he\nmight come at the monster, since apparently no weapon he could handle\nwould come anywhere near reaching to his knees.\n\nSo he waited, considering this matter. And presently the giant\nbestirred himself and set about bringing the issue to a close in\ncharacteristic fashion. For, noting closely the size of the encampment\nof the Israelites, he heaved up a huge rock, like a veritable mountain,\nvast enough to cover the entire camp. Bearing this upon his head, he\nstrode forward, clearly intending to crush the entire force of his\nenemies at one blow.\n\nIll would it have fared with the band under Moses that day had they\nbeen dependent upon their own might alone. But as the giant advanced,\nand all waited in terror for the catastrophe, the colossal mass of rock\nwas seen to settle down over his head. He stood still, blinded and\nbewildered, endeavoring to throw off this imprisoning bulk; but all his\nefforts were unavailing.\n\nThen Moses, perceiving that the enemy was delivered into his hands,\nseized a mighty axe, and ran forward, and leaped into the air higher\nthan an ordinary man's head, and dealt such a blow upon Og's leg that\nhe crashed to earth with the rock on top of him.\n\nThus died Og, King of Bashan, last of the giants who were before the\nFlood.\n\nAnd the warriors of Israel fell upon the army which had accompanied\nhim, and conquered it utterly, and took possession of all that land.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nA SON OF ANAK\n\n\nThere was war many years between the children of Israel and the\nPhilistines.\n\nAnd it came to pass while Saul was King that the Philistines gathered\ntogether a great army, and marched into the land of Judah against the\nIsraelites, and encamped in a plain near Shochoh. So Saul also drew\nout his army and hurried forward, and occupied a hill overlooking this\nplain; whereupon the Philistines were forced to leave their position\nand to establish themselves on another hill across the valley of Elah\nfrom Saul's camp.\n\nWhile the armies thus faced each other, there came one day out of the\nranks of the Philistines a champion named Goliath. Very terrible he\nwas to behold, for he was of the race of those sons of Anak for fear\nof whom the Israelites under Moses had murmured and had been therefore\ncondemned to wander forty years in the wilderness. And while Joshua had\nfinally led them across the Jordan after the death of Moses, and had\nsmitten the Anakim and overcome them, there had remained three cities\nwhere their seed still dwelt,--Gaza, and Gath and Ashdod; and it was\nfrom Gath that this Goliath had come with the invading army.\n\nHe was half as tall again as an ordinary man, something over nine feet.\nHis brazen breastplate alone weighed as much as a man; on his head was\na helmet of brass; and he carried over his shoulder a mighty spear\nwhich looked like a weaver's beam and the head of which alone weighed\ntwenty-five pounds. Brazen greaves were upon his legs, and he bore a\nshield of gleaming brass.\n\nThis daunting figure advanced boldly into the plain, between the two\narmies drawn up in battle array, and in a great voice cried out:\n\n\"Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? Am not I a Philistine\nand ye servants of Saul? Choose you a man for you and let him come down\nto me.\n\n\"If he be able to fight with me, and to kill me, then will we be your\nservants: but if I prevail against him and kill him, then shall ye be\nour servants, and serve us.\n\n\"I defy the armies of Israel this day; give me a man, that we may fight\ntogether.\"\n\nNow this was quite customary in the olden times: many a great issue had\nbeen decided by the combat of two champions. Moreover, there were brave\nmen enough in the army of the Israelites, for Saul had had war all his\ndays, against the children of Moab and the Amalekites, against Ammon,\nEdom and Zoab; and when he had seen any strong or valiant fighter among\nhis people, he had straightway taken him unto him. But at the sight\nof this huge, brazen warrior, his hardiest veterans turned pale and\ntrembled--for was it not a saying passed on from father to son for\nmany generations: \"Who shall stand before the sons of Anak?\"\n\nSo, among all those thousands there was not found one so much as to\nanswer to the giant's challenge. Which, when he perceived, he reviled\nthem and returned to his own people.\n\nThe next day he came forth again, morning and evening, and the day\nafter that, and each day following, always repeating his challenge\nin the face of all the force, and taunting them bitterly. Wherefore\nSaul was greatly troubled, for he knew well that this open fear of the\ngiant would fight more overwhelmingly against his soldiers, when battle\nwas joined, than the mighty Philistine himself and all his host. He\noffered, therefore, great riches to any man who would go forth against\nthe challenger; whosoever should slay him should have the king's\ndaughter to wife, and his father's house should be free in Israel. Yet\neven this could not prevail upon any to stand before the Philistine,\nso that for forty days he braved and insulted the whole army without\nresponse.\n\nNow there were three brothers among those who followed Saul, Eliab,\nAbinadab and Shammah. They were sons of Jesse, who dwelt but ten or\ntwelve miles from the battlefield in the hills near Bethlehem. This\nJesse had a fourth son, David, who was but a stripling and tended his\nfather's sheep.\n\nHe was a ruddy youth, of fair gaze, and beautiful to look upon. So\ncunning a musician was he that when an evil spirit of melancholy had\ndescended upon the king, one of his servants had brought the boy to\nharp to his master; and the youth's skill in charming away this evil\nspirit had given him favor in Saul's sight, so that he had kept him\nbefore him and made him his armor-bearer. But when the three older sons\nof Jesse had joined the army gathered against the Philistines, David\nhad returned to his duties with his father's flocks.\n\nIt chanced at this time that Jesse called David to him:\n\n\"Take now,\" said he, \"this bushel of parched corn and these ten loaves\nand carry them swiftly to the camp to thy brethren.\n\n\"And carry these ten cheeses to the captain of their thousand, and see\nhow thy brethren fare and bring me word again.\"\n\nSo David arose very early in the morning and left the sheep with a\nkeeper and went as his father had commanded to the camp by the valley\nof Elah.\n\nIt was an easy journey for one who spent his days abroad with the\nsheep, and the sun was but lately up when he reached the encampment.\n\nAll was noise and confusion as he arrived, for both hosts were setting\nthemselves in battle array, army against army. So the youth left his\nburdens with the keeper of the supplies, and ran in among the ranks\nuntil he found his brethren and said unto them: \"Peace be with you.\"\n\nAs he talked with them, the Philistine champion appeared on the\nopposite slope. According to his wont, he challenged the whole army and\nreviled them, while the men of Israel drew back, sore afraid as before.\n\nDavid heard his insults, and heard also the talk of those who stood by:\nwhat great things King Saul had promised to any who might overthrow\nhim, and how long his boast and defiance had gone unquestioned.\n\n\"What shall be done,\" he inquired of his neighbors, \"to the man that\nkilleth this Philistine and taketh away the reproach from Israel? For\nwho is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of\nthe living God?\"\n\nThey answered and told him what the king had promised: \"So shall it be\ndone to the man that killeth him.\"\n\nHis eldest brother Eliab heard these questionings, and his anger was\nkindled against David. He turned upon him, saying:\n\n\"Why comest thou down hither? And with whom hast thou left those few\nsheep in the wilderness? I know thy pride and forwardness: thou art\ncome down that thou mightest see the battle.\"\n\n\"What have I now done?\" replied the youth. \"Was there not a cause for\nmy coming?\"\n\nHe turned away and again asked the nearest soldier of the affair,\nreceiving the same answer. And some one came to Saul, relating the\nwords the stripling had spoken. Saul sent for him.\n\nAs soon as he stood in the king's presence, David broke out, pointing\nto the distant figure of the giant:\n\n\"Let no man's heart fail because of him; thy servant will go and fight\nwith this Philistine.\"\n\n\"Thou art not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him,\"\nanswered Saul; \"for thou art but a youth, and he is a man of war from\nhis childhood up.\"\n\n\"Thy servant kept his father's sheep,\" urged the young man, \"and there\ncame a lion and a bear and took a lamb out of the flock.\n\n\"And I went out after the lion and smote him and delivered the lamb out\nof his mouth: and when he arose against me, I caught him by the hair\nand smote him, and slew him.\n\n\"Thy servant slew both the lion and the bear: and this uncircumcised\nPhilistine shall be as one of them, seeing he hath defied the armies of\nthe living God.\"\n\nWhen Saul saw the eagerness and confidence of this handsome young\nshepherd, he was reminded of the deed of his son Jonathan when,\naccompanied only by his armor-bearer, he had climbed up into the\nenemy's garrison at Michmash, and slain twenty men within the space of\nhalf an acre, and started the rout of the whole army of the Philistines\nwhich had been about to overrun the land.\n\n\"Go,\" said he, \"and the Lord be with thee.\"\n\nSo he armed David with his own armor and put a helmet on his head.\nAnd David girded on the king's sword and tried to walk; but he found\nhimself so unaccustomed to the armor that he said to the king:\n\n\"I cannot go with these; for I have not proved them.\"\n\nSo he removed the armor, and set out in his shepherd's clothes, with\nhis staff in his hand and his sling hanging from his girdle. This\nlatter was the weapon he knew, and it was by no means to be despised.\nThe plain piece of leather with thongs attached to each end, by means\nof which a stone could be hurled, was perhaps the very earliest means\nof fighting at a distance; and it was the traditional arm of more than\none nation of the Syrian region. Among the Benjaminites, when they\nfought with Israel, there were 700 chosen men, left-handed, every one\nof whom could sling stones at a hair's-breadth and not miss; and an\nexpert slinger had the advantage, against a warrior armed with sword\nand spear, of being able to deliver an attack long before he himself\nwas threatened.\n\nThe youth walked to the brook and carefully selected five rounded\nstones of the right size, which he put into the wallet slung over his\nshoulder. Then, in the full sight of both armies, he advanced against\nthe giant warrior in his gleaming harness, who stood brandishing his\ngreat spear and shouting his scorn.\n\nSeeing David approach, he came forward, preceded by his shield-bearer.\nBut perceiving only this fresh-faced stripling in his skin garment, he\nwas filled with contempt at such an antagonist.\n\n\"Am I a dog,\" he cried, \"that thou comest to me with staves?\"\n\nCursing the youth by his heathen gods, he shouted: \"Come to me, and I\nwill give thy flesh to the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the\nfield.\"\n\nCalmly David answered:\n\n\"Thou comest to me with a sword and with a spear, and with a shield:\nbut I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the\narmies of Israel, whom thou hast defied.\n\n\"This day will the Lord deliver thee into my hand; and I will smite\nthee, and take thy head from thee; and I will give the carcasses of the\nhost of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the\nwild beasts of the earth; that all the assembly may know there is a god\nin Israel.\"\n\nEnraged at this insolence, the Philistine champion hastened forward to\nsmite down this boaster with one blow.\n\nBut David ran towards him. And as he ran he took one of the stones and\nplaced it in his sling. Whirling it about, he hurled it so shrewdly\nthat the stone struck Goliath full in the forehead, burying itself in\nthe skull.\n\nDown crashed that giant bulk to earth. The shield-bearer fled aghast\nback to his own lines. Running up to his prostrate adversary, the youth\ndrew the giant's sword from his sheath, and, while the multitude looked\non in awed silence, he hewed the Philistine's head from his body.\n\nAt that the Israelites set up a shout which echoed from hill to hill.\nThe Philistine host turned and fled in utter panic, while Saul's men\nslaughtered them all the way to the gates of Gath, making great spoil\nof their belongings.\n\nBut David took the giant's sword and placed it in the sanctuary of Nob,\nwhere it was to serve him in dire need, at a later day.\n\nAnd Saul set him over all his men of war.\n\n\n\n\nPART II\n\nIN THE DAYS OF ROMANCE\n\n\n_Though it be hard at times to see of what usefulness were those\ntroublesome monsters of the world's younger days,--there is no such\ndifficulty with the thronging giants of the age of chivalry. For\nsome seven centuries (that is from the institution of this order by\nCharlemagne till it was shot to death by firearms and gunpowder), the\ngiant's reason for existence was to furnish a large enough measure of\nthe knight's prowess._\n\n_\"The bigger they are, the harder they fall,\" says the modern\n\"bruiser\"; the old romancers would have added--\"and the more resounding\nlos to him who fells them.\"_\n\n_Little did their vast size and muscles avail them against these\nhot thirsters after fame. The magic net of Caligorant, Ferragus's\nprophetic brazen head, Galafer's magic armor rendering the sinless\nwearer invulnerable, Mugillo's prodigious mace with its whirling\nballs--weapons, strength, craft and magic were alike impotent before\na Roland, an Arthur, an Amadis, or a Guy of Warwick. Of a list of two\nhundred giants collected by a curious biographer, well-nigh half came\nto an untimely end through the sword of some knight-errant. Small\nwonder that after several hundred years of such eager reaping, these\nheroes should have left not one live specimen for us of later times to\ngape at._\n\n_Read but the following few tales of such adventures as comprised\nalmost the regular \"day's work\" of knighthood; and, however much you\nmay bewail the loss, you must speedily comprehend why these Tall Ones,\nonce so plentiful, are today extinct._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nFERRAGUS, WHO OWNED THE BRAZEN HEAD\n\n\nCharlemagne held his state in the city of Pampeluna. This city of the\nMoors he had invested for six months; and being unable to take it,\nhe prayed to St. James,--whereat the walls fell down as did those of\nJericho before the blast of the priests' trumpets.\n\nGreat was the Emperor's fame after his prodigious conquests in Saxony,\nFrance, Germany, Lorraine, Burgundy, Italy, and now in Spain; and his\nperson befitted his renown.\n\n\"He was of a ruddy complexion,\" says Turpin's Chronicle, \"with brown\nhair; of a well-made handsome form, but stern visage. His height was\nabout eight of his own feet which were very long. He was of a strong,\nrobust make; his legs and thighs very stout, and his sinews firm.\nHis face was thirteen inches long; his beard a palm; his nose half a\npalm; his forehead a foot over. His lion-like eyes flashed fire like\ncarbuncles; his eye-brows were half a palm over. When he was angry it\nwas a terror to look upon him. He required eight span for his girdle\nbesides what hung loose. He ate sparingly of bread, but a whole quarter\nof lamb, two fowls, a goose, or a large portion of pork; a peacock,\ncrane or a whole hare. He drank moderately of wine and water. He was so\nstrong, that he could at a single blow cleave asunder an armed soldier\non horseback, from the head to the waist, and the horse likewise. He\neasily vaulted over four horses harnessed together; and could raise an\narmed man from the ground to his head, as he stood erect upon his hand.\n\n\"He was liberal, just in his decrees, and fluent of speech. Four days\nin the year, especially during his residence in Spain, he held a solemn\nassembly at court, adorning himself with his royal crown and sceptre:\nnamely on Christmas-day, at Easter, Whitsuntide, and on the festival of\nSt. James. A naked sword, after the imperial fashion, was then borne\nbefore him. A hundred and twenty devout knights watched nightly around\nhis couch, in three courses of forty each. A drawn sword was laid at\nhis right hand, and a lighted candle at his left.\"\n\nYet the chief glory of this regal court was the band of Paladins,\n(Palace knights), sworn to the Emperor and to each other--Roland of\nBrittany, Oliver of Genoa, Ogier the Dane, Richard of Normandy, Guy of\nBurgundy, Rinaldo of the White Thorn, Terry of Ardennes, old Neymes of\nBavaria, and the rest. Save perhaps at that Round Table of King Arthur,\nnever was there gathered together such a company of heroes as these\nDouzepeers. All the world of christendom and paynimry resounded with\ntheir fame.\n\nAmid one of these high festivals there arrived messengers spurring\nhotly from Nager. White-faced, they told of the coming of a Moorish\ngiant hight Ferragus. He sent defiance to Charles and all his knights.\nMen said no weapon might harm him, while he himself was possessed of\ntwenty men's strength.\n\nAlso he was surrounded by a reputation of magic art; for as Valentine\nand Orson later discovered, his home was on an island far to the south.\nHere glittered a strong castle of shining metal; and in a chamber\ntherein stood on a pillar a marvellous brazen head, \"composed a long\ntime ago by the necromancy of a magician, which Head was of such\nan excellent composition, that it gave Answer to anything that was\ndemanded.\" In addition he had for servitor one Pacolet, a dwarf, a\nvery cunning wizard, who had made a wooden horse that would carry him\nthrough the air whithersoever he would. Natheless, be what he might,\nthe Saracen challenger must be met, for the honor of knighthood. The\nEmperor therefore marched to Nager and pitched his camp there.\n\nWhen the giant appeared from the city next morning, all were aghast at\nthe sight. He was twelve cubits high, and the fingers which gripped\nhis huge brand were three palms in length. From his loathly dark face\nhis eyebrows stuck out like stiff pig's bristles. A hideous and fell\ncreature he looked, and when the French knights beheld his monstrous\nthews they had little desire to seek \"los\" in that encounter.\n\nBold Ogier the Dane, however, demanded the honor of the fight.\nCarefully he armed himself, chose the heaviest lance he could find, and\nmounted his stoutest charger. Then he sped forth over the plain before\nthe watching army. When he approached the giant, he set spurs to his\nhorse and thundered down upon him with a speed and force that seemed\nirresistible.\n\nWith utter indifference the monster received the spear point on his\nshield, and the tough wood flew to pieces. Ferragus was not even\nstaggered by the onset. He stepped forward, thrust a great arm about\nOgier, lifted him bodily from his horse, and, despite all the struggles\nof this renowned warrior, carried him off beneath his arm to the\ncastle, no more disturbed than a falcon is by the fluttering of the\nprey in his talons.\n\nNext there came against him Rinaldo of the White Thorn, but he fared no\nbetter, being seized and borne away in the same manner.\n\nScornfully the giant taunted the French king:\n\n\"Ah, it was you who won Spain! And this is the best you have? By the\nProphet, ten such at a time were no match for Ferragus alone.\"\n\nChafing under this disgrace, Charlemagne despatched two knights\ntogether, Sir Constantine of Rome, and Earl Howel of Nantes--only to\nsuffer the humiliation of seeing the huge Saracen tuck one under each\narm and walk away with them as if they were children.\n\nAbandoning all thought of equal combat, he bade ten knights sally out\nand destroy this prodigy, whose boasting grew ever more difficult to\nendure. To his amazement, the issue was the same: Ferragus was not so\nmuch as wounded, while these doughty knights were borne off in triumph\nto the castle dungeon.\n\nRuin instead of renown seemed to lie at the end of this road, and the\nEmperor refused to risk any more of his knights in conflict with this\nunearthly being.\n\nRoland's proud heart could not brook this. He came before Charles and\ndemanded the combat. Dreading a similar fate for this best-loved of his\ndouzepeers, the Emperor urged him to forego the adventure; yet when the\nDuke insisted that he must undertake it, for his own honor and that of\nFrance, Charles could no longer withhold his assent.\n\nArmed cap-\u00e0-pie, the undefeated Paladin rode forth. So confident and\nhaughty was his mien that Ferragus perceived this was no adversary\nto be despised. As the knight drew near, the giant's great hand shot\nout and gripped him inexorably by the sword arm. That vise-like grasp\nparalyzed the victim's muscles, as the crushing jaws of the lion\nare said to destroy effort and feeling. Then he put forth all his\nsuperhuman power, and lifted the knight from the saddle. Swinging him\nin front of himself, he urged his huge charger towards the castle, well\nassured of adding him too to the growing band of captives.\n\nBut as he was bearing him to the city (says the chronicler of nearly\na thousand years ago), Roland recovered his strength, and trusting in\nthe Almighty, seized the giant by the beard, and tumbled him from his\nhorse, so that both came to the ground together. Roland then thinking\nto slay the infidel, drew his sword Durandal and struck at him, but the\nblow fell upon his steed and shore through it.\n\nThe giant, being thus on foot, drew his enormous sword; but Roland, who\nhad remounted his own charger, dealt him a sudden stroke on the sword\narm. Though Durandal was tempered so that the knight could cut through\na block of marble with it, yet could the blade make no impression upon\nthis creature's skin. Still, the sheer force of the blow struck the\nbrand from the giant's grasp.\n\nGreatly enraged at this mischance, Ferragus aimed a blow at Roland\nwith his fist, but, missing him, hit his horse on the forehead and\nlaid it dead on the spot. Avoiding the monster's grasp Roland laid on\nhim lustily with Durandal, but the unfailing weapon could find no spot\nwhere the giant's hide might be pierced.\n\nFor the rest of that day they battled with fists and stones. The giant\nthen demanded a truce till next day, agreeing to meet Roland without\nhorse or spear. Each warrior then retired to his post.\n\nNext morning they accordingly met once more. Ferragus brought his\nsword, but Roland armed himself only with a sturdy club to ward off the\nblows of the giant, who wearied himself to no purpose.\n\nThey now began again to batter each other with stones that lay\nscattered about the field, till at last the giant begged a second\ntruce. This being granted, he presently fell fast asleep upon the\nground. Roland, taking a stone for a pillow, quietly laid himself\ndown also. For such was the law of honor between the Christians and\nthe Saracens at that time, that no one on any pretence dared to take\nadvantage of his adversary before the truce was expired, as in that\ncase his own party would have slain him.\n\nWhen Ferragus awoke, he found Roland awake also, marvelling at the\nprodigious snoring which came from his huge adversary. He discovered,\ntoo, that the knight had placed a block of stone beneath his head for a\npillow, and this courtesy caused him to inquire the Frenchman's name.\n\nRoland told him, and inquired in his turn of that matter which most\nbewildered him: how it was that no wounds had resulted from all his\nswordplay with his trusted Durandal.\n\n\"Because,\" said Ferragus proudly, \"I am invulnerable except in one\npoint.\"\n\n\"And where is that?\"\n\n\"In the navel.\"\n\nFerragus spoke in the Spanish language, which Roland understanding\ntolerably well, a conversation now followed between them.\n\n\"Of what race are you?\" asked the giant.\n\n\"Of the race of the Franks.\"\n\n\"What law do you follow?\"\n\n\"The law of Christ, so far as his grace permits me.\"\n\n\"Who is this Christ in whom you profess to believe?\"\n\n\"The Son of God, born of a Virgin, who took upon him our nature, was\ncrucified for us, rose again from the dead, and ascended into heaven,\nwhere he sitteth on the right hand of the Father.\"\n\n\"We believe,\" said Ferragus, \"that the Creator of heaven and earth is\none God, and that, as he was not made himself, so cannot another God\nspring from him. There is, therefore, only one God and not three, as I\nunderstand you Christians profess.\"\n\n\"You say well; there is but one God; but your faith is imperfect; for\nas the Father is God, so likewise is the Son, and so is the Holy Ghost.\nThree persons, but one God.\"\n\n\"Nay, if each of these three persons be God, there must be three Gods.\"\n\n\"By no means,\" replied Roland. \"He is both three and one. Abraham saw\nthree but worshipped one. Let us recur to natural things. When the harp\nsounds, there is the art, the strings and the hand, yet but one harp.\nIn the almond there is the shell, the coat and the kernel. In the sun,\nthe body, the beams and the heat. In the wheel, the hub, the spokes,\nand the nave. In you likewise, there is the body, the members and the\nsoul. In like manner may Trinity in Unity be ascribed to God.\"\n\nThey discoursed at length upon these mysteries, the giant listening\nwith great interest to the knight's explanation of the resurrection\nfrom the dead. To Roland's surprise, however, Ferragus presently\nremarked:\n\n\"Well, to end our arguments, I will fight you on these terms: if the\nfaith you profess be the true faith, you shall conquer; otherwise\nthe victory shall be mine. And let the issue be eternal honor to the\nconqueror, but dishonor to the vanquished.\"\n\n\"Be it so!\" said Roland.\n\nWhereupon they immediately fell to blows. The very first which the\ngiant aimed at him would have certainly been fatal, if Roland had not\nnimbly leaped aside, and caught it on his club, which was, however,\ncut in twain. Ferragus, seeing his advantage, rushed in upon him, and\nboth came to the ground together.\n\nThen Roland, finding it impossible to escape, implored the divine\nassistance; and, feeling himself invigorated, he sprung upon his feet,\nseized the giant's sword and thrust it into his navel.\n\nFinding himself mortally wounded, Ferragus called aloud with a mighty\nvoice upon Mahomet; which the Saracens hearing, sallied from the city,\nand bore him off in their arms.\n\nRoland returned safe to the camp, to the great joy of Charlemagne and\nhis fellows. Then the French boldly attacked the city, and carried it\nby storm. The giant and his people were slain, his castle taken, and\nall the Christian warriors liberated.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE GIANT OF ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT\n\n\nMany are the tales of King Arthur's valiant Round Table of\nknights--whose deeds have been sung almost more than those of the King\nhimself. But from the day when as a \"damoiseau of some fifteen years,\"\n(men say in the sixth century after Christ), Arthur was crowned as\nsuccessor to Uther Pendragon, he was an example of chivalry to his\nwhole court.\n\n\"He was a very virtuous knight, right worthy of praise, whose fame was\nmuch in the mouths of men. To the haughty he was proud; but tender and\npitiful to the simple. He was a stout knight and a bold: a passing\ncrafty captain, as indeed was but just, for skill and courage were his\nservants at need: and large of his giving. He was one of Love's lovers;\na lover also of glory; and his famous deeds are right fit to be kept\nin remembrance. He ordained the courtesies of courts, and observed\nhigh state in very splendid fashion. So long as he lived and reigned\nhe stood head and shoulders above all princes of the earth, both for\ncourtesy and prowess, as for valor and liberality.\"\n\nHaving settled his own realm in peace and restored the kingdom to its\nancient borders, he conquered Ireland, Norway, Denmark and Flanders;\nand, after a nine-years' war, added France to his dominions.\n\nTo him, thus flushed with victory, came ambassadors from the Emperor of\nRome, bidding him to appear at that city and make restitution for his\nwrongful attacks on the empire's provinces, or to expect to be haled\nthither in bonds for judgment by the senate.\n\nThe king's answer was to summon a vast army, commit the realm to the\ncare of his nephew Mordred, (who afterward wrought such bale to that\nnoble company) and set out over sea for Rome--\"not to carry tribute,\nbut to seek it.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA puissant and well-armed host it was that set forth; and the\nwarrior-monarch who led them was arrayed in harness that surpassed\nall his followers. His thigh-pieces were of steel, wrought strong and\nfairly by some cunning smith. His hauberk was stout and richly chased,\neven such a vesture as became so puissant a king. Upon him was girt his\nsword, Excalibur. Mighty was the glaive, and long in the blade. It was\nforged in the Isle of Avalon, and he who brandished it naked in his\nhand deemed himself a happy man.\n\nHis helmet gleamed upon his head. The nasal was of gold; circlets of\ngold adorned the head-piece, with many a clear stone; and a dragon was\nfashioned for its crest. This helm had once been worn by Uther his\nsire. The king was mounted upon a destrier (charger), passing fair,\nstrong, and speedy, loving well the battle. About his neck was set his\nshield, all clean of elephant's bone (ivory), on which was painted in\nseveral colors the image of Our Lady of St. Mary. The lance he carried\nwas named Ron: it was a strong shaft, tough and great, sharp at the\nhead, and very welcome at need in the press of battle. It had been\nmade in Caermarthen by a smith that hight Griffin, and King Uther had\ncarried it before time.\n\nSetting out from Southampton with his great host, the king sailed for\nFrance; and though the mariners, steering by the stars, \"were very\nfearful of the dark,\" the ships came safely to haven very early in the\nmorning at Barfleur in Normandy.\n\nThey had been but a little while in the land when tidings were brought\nto the king that a marvellously strong giant, newly come to that land,\nhad carried off Helen the niece of his kinsman, Hoel.\n\nThis doleful lady the giant, named Dinabuc, had taken to a high place\nknown as St. Michael's Mount, though in that day there was neither\nchurch nor monastery on the cliff, but all was shut close by the waves\nof the sea.\n\nThe adventure which followed was told many times in the old days, by\nWace, Layamon and others. Let us listen to the unknown romancer of the\n14th Century who left us _Morte Arthure_:\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen they had reached the shore and raised their tents, a templar\ncame and informed the king: \"Here, too, is a tyrant that torments thy\npeople, a great giant of Genoa engendered by fiends; he hath devoured\nmore than five hundred people and also many infants and free-born\nchildren. This hath been his sustenance now for seven winters and\nyet is the glutton not sated so well it pleaseth him. In the country\nof Cotentin no people has he left outside the strong castle enclosed\nwithin walls--for he has completely destroyed all the children of the\ncommons and carried them to his crag and devoured them there. The\nDuchess of Brittany he has taken to-day near Reynes as she rode with\nher fair knights, and led her to the mountain where he abideth. We\nfollowed afar off, more than five hundred barons and citizens and noble\nbachelors, but he reached the crag: she shrieked so loud: the horror of\nthat creature I shall never forget. She was the flower of France or of\nfive realms, and one of the fairest that was ever formed, the gentlest\njewel accounted by lords from Genoa to Geron, by Jesus of Heaven! She\nwas thy wife's cousin, as thou mayest know, and sprung from the noblest\nrace that reign in this earth. As thou art a righteous king, take pity\non the people and endeavor to avenge them that are thus affronted.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the king, \"so long as I have lived had I known of this it\nhad been well: it has not happened fairly but fallen foul that this\nfiend hath destroyed the fair lady. I had leifer than all France this\nfifteen winters that I had been before that fellow a furlong away when\nhe laid hold of that lady and led her to the mountains; I had left\nbehind my life ere she had suffered harm. But can you tell me the crag\nwhere lives that man? I will go to that place and speak with him, to\ndeal with that tyrant for treason to his lord, and make a truce for a\ntime till it may happen better.\"\n\n\"Sire, see ye yon foreland with yonder two fires? there lurks that\nfiend--ask when thou mayest, upon the crest of the crag by a cold well\nthat encloses the cliff within its clear stream: there wilt thou find\ndead folk without number, more florins i' faith than in all the rest of\nFrance, and more treasure hath that traitor unlawfully got than there\nwas in Troy, I trow, what time it was conquered.\"\n\nThen the noble king sighed for pity of those people, went right to a\ntent and rested no longer, he welters and wrestleth with himself and\nwringeth his hands--there was no wight in the world that knew what he\nwanted. He called Sir Cayous that served with the cup and Sir Bedivere\nthe bold that bore his great brand.\n\n\"Look to it that after evensong ye be armed full well and mounted\non horses by yonder thicket--by yon blithe stream, for I will pass\nprivately in pilgrimage that way at supper-time when the lords are\nserved to seek a saint by yon salt streams on St. Michael's Mount where\nmiracles are seen.\"\n\nAfter evensong King Arthur himself went to his wardrobe and took out\nhis clothes--he armed him in a jerkin with a rich golden fringe, and\nabove that laid a jeryn of Acre right over, and above that a coat\nof gentle mail--a tunic of Jerodyn with edges frayed. He drew on a\nbacenett of burnished silver--the best that was in Basill with rich\nborders: the crest and the crown enclosed so fair with clasps of bright\ngold adorned with stones--the visor and the aventail equipped so fair\nwithout a flaw, with eyelets of silver; his gauntlets gaily gilded and\nengraven at the borders with grains and balls of most glorious hue; he\nbore a broad shield and calls for his sword, he jumped on a brown steed\nand waits on the heath. He rises in his stirrups and stands aloft, he\nstrains himself stoutly and looks forth, then he spurs the bay steed\nand rides to the thicket and there his knights await him gallantly\narrayed.\n\nThey rode by that river that runneth so swift where the trees\noverstretch with fair boughs, the roe and the reindeer run recklessly\nthere in thickets and rose-gardens to feast themselves. The thickets\nwere in blossom with may-flowers, with falcons and pheasants of fair\nhues--all the birds lived there which fly with wings, for there sang\nthe cuckoo full loud on the bushes, with all birds of merriment they\ngladden themselves: the voice of the nightingale's notes was sweet,\nthey strove with the throstles three hundred at once, that this murmur\nof water and singing of birds might cure him of ill who never was whole.\n\nThen move these folk quickly and alighted on foot and fastened their\nfair steeds afar off; then the king sternly told his knights to abide\nwith their horses and come no further, \"For I will seek this saint by\nmyself and speak with this master man that guards this mountain, and\nthen shall ye partake of the Sacrament one after the other honourably\nat St. Michael's full mighty with Christ!\"\n\nThe king climbs the crag with cliffs full high, to the top of the\ncrag he climbs aloft; lifts up his umbrer and looks about him keenly,\nreceiving the cold wind on his face to comfort him; two fires he finds\nflaming full high--for a quarter of a furlong he thus walks between\nthem: along the way by the well he wanders on to get to know of the\nwarlock and where he abides.\n\nHe moves to the port fire and even there he finds a very woeful widow\nwringing her hands and weeping with painful tears on a grave newly\nmarked in the soil since midday it seemed. He saluted her sorrowfully\nwith becoming words and straightway asked after the fiend. Then this\nwoeful widow joylessly greets him, rose up on her knees and clasped her\nhands, saying: \"Unhappy man, thou speakest too loudly; if yon warlock\nheareth he will devour us both. Cursed be the wight that directed thee\nhither, that made thee to travel here in these wild parts. I warn\nthee for thy honour thou seekest sorrow. Whither hastenest thou, man?\nthou seem'st unhappy, goest thou to slay him with thy bright sword?\nWert thou wightier than Wade or Gawayn thou shouldest win no honour.\nI warn thee beforehand: thou crossedst thyself unsafely to seek these\nmountains; six such as thou were not sufficient to cope with him alone.\nFor an thou seest him alone, thy heart will fail thee to cross thyself\nsafely, so huge he seemeth.\n\n\"Thou art noble and fair and in the flower of thy manhood, but thou\nart doomed already, by my fay, and that I foretell thee. Were there\nfifty such as thee in the field or on the fair earth--the monster\nwith his fist would fell you all. Lo! here the dear duchess--to-day\nwas she taken--deep buried in the ground--he murdered this mild lady\ne'er midday was rung--without any mercy I wot not why, he slew her\nchurlishly, and here have I embalmed her and buried her afterwards. For\nthe grief of this incurable woe I shall never be happy again. Of all\nthe friends she had, none followed after her but I, her foster-mother\nof fifteen winters: to move from this foreland I shall never attempt,\nbut shall be found in this field till I am left dead.\"\n\nThen answere Sir Arthur to that old wife: \"I am come from the conqueror\ncourteous and noble, as one of the most noble of Arthur's knights, a\nmessenger to this vile wretch for the benefit of the people, to speak\nwith this master man that guards this mountain: to treat with this\ntyrant for the treasure of lands and to make truce foretime till it may\nturn out better.\"\n\n\"Fie, thy words are but wasted,\" quoth that wife then, \"for he sets\nbut little by both lands and people. Nor of rents of red gold he\ntroubles, but he will break the law when he chooses himself, without\nthe permission of any, as lord of his own.\n\n\"But he hath a mantle which he keeps for himself that was spun in Spain\nby special women and afterwards adorned in Greece full fairly: it is\ncovered all over with hair and embroidered with the beards of valiant\nkings, woven and combed that knights may know each king by his colour,\nin his home there he abides. Here he seizes the revenues of fifteen\nkingdoms each Easter evening, however it so happens that they send it\nthemselves for the safety of the people--at that season with certain\nknights, and he has asked Arthur all these seven winters. Therefore\nhe herds here to outrage his people until the King of Britain has\nfed his lips and sent his beard to that bold monster with his best\nknights; unless thou hast brought that beard go thou no further, for\nit is bootless that thou shouldst stay for aught else: for he has more\ntreasure to take when he likes than ever had Arthur or any of his\nforefathers. If thou hast brought the beard, he will be more pleased\nthan if thou gavest him Burgundy or Britain: but take care for love's\nsake that thou keep thy lips silent so that no word escape from them\nwhatever betides; see that thy present be ready and trouble him but\nlittle, for he is at his supper and will be easily angered. And now\ntake my advice and remove thy clothes and kneel in thy mantle and call\nhim thy lord. He sups all this season on seven children of the commons,\nchopped up on a charger of pure white silver with pickles and finely\nground spices and wines of Portugal mixed with honey. Three luckless\ndamsels turn his spits.\"\n\n\"Ha! I have brought the beard,\" quoth he, \"for thus it pleaseth me,\nforth then will I go and bear it myself. But, pray, if thou wilt tell\nme where this monster abideth, I shall commend thee an I live, so help\nme our Lord!\"\n\n\"Go straight to the fire,\" quoth she, \"that flames so high: there lurks\nthat fiend as thou wilt discover: but thou must go somewhat to the\nsouth, sidling a little, for his power of smelling extends over six\nmiles.\"\n\nThe source of the smoke he sought speedily, crossed himself safely\nwith certain words, and going to the side he caught sight of the fiend\nas she said, unseemly supping alone. He lay at full length reposing\nfoully, the thigh of a man's limb he lifted up by the haunch, his back\nand the lower parts and his broad loins he baked at the dreadful fire,\nand he was breechless: there were roasting full rudely dreadful meats\nof men and cattle bound together, a large pot crammed with anointed\nchildren, some spitted like birds, and women turned them.\n\nAnd then this comely king's heart was sorely grieved because of his\npeople at the place where he stood. Then he girded on his shield and\nhesitates no longer, he brandishes his bright sword by its bright hilt,\ngoes forth to the fiend with a rough determination, and loudly hails\nthat giant with fierce words:\n\n\"Now may Almighty God that ruleth us all give thee sorrow and trouble,\nthou glutton, that liest there for the foulest monster that was ever\nformed--foully thou feedest thyself--the devil take thy soul! Here is\nunclean quarry, fellow, by my troth--refuse of all creatures--thou\ncursed wretch, because thou hast killed anointed children thou hast\nmade martyrs and taken away the lives of those who are broached here\non spits in this place and slaughtered by thy hand. I shall work thee\nthy punishment as thou greatly deservest, by the might of St. Michael\nwho guardeth this mountain: and for this fair lady that thou hast left\ndead; gird thyself, thou son of a dog, the devil take thy soul, for\nthou shalt die to-day through the force of my arm.\"\n\nThen was the glutton dismayed and glared unseemly; he grinned like a\ngreyhound with grisly teeth; he gaped and groaned aloud with grievous\ngestures for wrath with the good king who spake to him in anger. His\nhair and his forelock were matted together and hung before his face\nfor about half a foot. His brow and forehead were all like the skin of\na frog and seemed freckled, hooknosed like a hawk and a fierce bird,\nand hairy round his hollow eyes with overhanging brows: rough as a\ndog-fish--hardly could he be seen, so was he hid in that mass of hair:\nears he had full huge and ugly to see, with horrible eyes and burning\nwithal: flat-mouthed like a flounder with grinning lips, and the flesh\nin his front teeth as foul as a bear. His beard was rough and black and\nreached to his breast, fat like a porpoise with a huge carcass, and\nflesh still hung in shreds from his foul lips. Bull necked was that\ngiant and broad of shoulders, with a streaked breast like a boar with\nlong bristles. Rough arms like oak-branches with gnarled sides--limbs\nand loins right hateful to see, believe ye in truth; shovel-footed was\nthat man and he seemed to straddle, with unshapely shanks shuffling\ntogether: thick thighs like a giant and thicker in the haunch--fat as a\nhog, full terrible he looked. Whoever might reckon faithfully the full\nlength of this man, from the face to the foot, he was five fathoms long.\n\nThen he started up sturdily on two stiff shanks and soon caught up\na club of bright iron. He would have killed the king with his keen\nweapon, but through the wisdom of Christ, the carle failed. The crest\nand the coronal and the silver clasps cleanly with his club he crashed\ndown to the earth.\n\nThe king raises his shield and covers himself completely, and with his\nfierce weapon reaches him a blow, right full in the face he struck\nhim so that the burnished blade reached to his brains--he wiped his\nface with his foul hands and strikes fast at Arthur's face fiercely\nthereafter. The king changes his foot and withdraws a little; had he\nnot escaped that blow he had fared evil; he follows up fiercely and\nstrikes a blow high up on the haunch with his hard weapon, that half a\nfoot of the weapon is hidden in the flesh: the monster's hot blood runs\ndown the hilt; even to the entrails he strikes the giant.\n\nThen he groaned and he roared and roughly strikes full eagerly at\nArthur, and on the earth strikes a sword's length within the sward, he\nsmites at once so that the king nearly swooned from the force of his\nblow. But yet the king nimbly and swiftly strives, he smites with the\nsword so that it gashed the giant's loins; and the blood gushes out so\nthat it makes all the ground slimy on which he stands.\n\nThen he cast down his club and seizes the king--on the top of the\ncrag he caught him in his arms and enfolds him securely to crush his\nribs: so tightly holds he him that his heart is near to bursting. Then\nthe doleful damsels fall down on the earth, kneeling and crying and\nwringing their hands, \"Christ deliver yonder knight and keep him from\ngrief, and never let that fiend take his life.\"\n\nYet the warlock is so mighty that he crushes him under; fiercely they\nwrung and wrestled together, they weltered and wallowed on those\nrushes, they tumble and turn about and tear their clothes--roughly\nfrom the top they tumble down together, Arthur sometimes on top and\nsometimes beneath--from the crest of the hill right down to the hard\nrock--they cease not until they reach the brink of the sea. But Arthur\nwith his dagger smites the giant until it sinks right up to the hilt in\nhim. The thief in his death-struggle grasped him so fiercely that three\nribs in the king's side were thrust asunder.\n\nThen Sir Cayous the Keen, moved in sorrow for the king, said, \"Alas,\nwe are undone, my lord is overthrown--fallen down with a fiend--it is\nall over! We must be forfeit and banished for ever.\" They lift up his\nhauberk and feel beneath--his stern and his haunches, too, right up to\nhis shoulders, his flanks and his loins and his fair sides, both his\nback and his breast and his bright arms. They were glad when they found\nno flesh wounds, and for that they were joyed, these gentle knights.\n\n\"Now certes,\" says Sir Bedivere, \"it seemeth by my Lord! He seeketh\nsaints but seldom, wherefore he grips the tighter that thus seizes this\nsaint's body out of these high cliffs, to carry forth such a man to\nclothe him in silver. By Michael, of such a fellow I have great wonder\nthan ever our Sovereign Lord should suffer him in Heaven: if all saints\nbe such who serve our Lord, I shall no saint be ever, by my father's\nsoul!\"\n\nThen laughs the bold king at Bedivere's words--\"This saint have I\nsought, so help me our Lord! Wherefore draw out thy sword and pierce\nhim to the heart; make certain of this fellow, he hath angered me\nsorely. I have not fought with such a wight these fifteen winters, but\nin the mountains in Wales I met such another. He was the strongest by\nfar that I ever met, and had not my fortune been favourable, dead would\nI be now.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe other whom the king had in mind was Ryence (or Riton) a Welsh giant\nwho in his day made war on divers kings. Of these some were slain in\nbattle, and others remained captive in his hand. Alive or dead, Ryence\nused them despitefully; for it was his wont to shave the beards of\nthese kings, and purfle therewith a cloak of furs that he wore, very\nrich. Vainglorious beyond measure was Ryence of his embroidered cloak.\nNow by reason of folly and lightness, Ryence sent messages to Arthur,\nbidding him shave his beard, and send it forthwith to the giant, in all\ngood will. Since Arthur was a mightier lord and a more virtuous prince\nthan his fellows, Ryence made covenant to prefer his beard before\ntheirs, and hold it in honour as the most silken fringe of his mantle.\nShould Arthur refuse to grant Ryence the trophy, then nought was there\nto do, but that body to body they must fight out their quarrel, in\nsingle combat, alone. He who might slay his adversary, or force him to\nown himself vanquished, should have the beard for his guerdon, together\nwith the mantle of furs, fringes and garniture and all. An old ballad\ndescribes the scene at Camelot when this impudent message arrived:\n\n    As it fell out on a Pentecost day,\n      King Arthur at Camelot kept his court royall,\n    With his faire queene Dame Guenever the gay;\n      And many bold barons sitting in hall;\n      With ladies attired in purple and pall;\n    And heraults in hewkes, hooting on high,\n    Cryed, _Largesse, Largesse, Chevaliers tres-hardie_.\n\n    A doughty dwarfe to the uppermost deas\n      Right pertlye gan pricke, kneeling on knee;\n    With Steven fulle stoute amids all the preas,\n      Sayd, Nowe sir King Arthur, God save thee and see!\n      Sir Ryence of North-Gales greeteth well thee,\n    And bids thee thy beard anon to him send,\n    Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend.\n\n    For his robe of state is a rich scarlet mantle,\n      With eleven kings beards bordered about,\n    And there is room lefte yet in a kantle,\n      For thine to stande, to make the twelfth out:\n      This must be done, be thou never so stout;\n    This must be done, I tell thee no fable,\n    Maugre the teethe of all thy round table.\n\n    When this mortal message from his mouthe past,\n      Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower:\n    The king fum'd; the queene screecht; ladies were aghast;\n      Princes puffd; barons blustred; lords began lower;\n      Knights stormed: squires startled, like steed in a stower;\n    Pages and yeomen yell'd out in the hall,\n    Then in came Sir Kay, the king's seneschal.\n\n    Silence, my soveraignes, quoth this courteous knight,\n      And in that stound the stowre began still:\n    Then the dwarfe's dinner full deerely was dight;\n      Of wine and wassel he had his wille:\n      And, when he had eaten and drunken his fill,\n    An hundred pieces of fine coyned gold\n    Were given this dwarf for his message bold.\n\n    But say to Sir Ryence, thou dwarf, quoth the king,\n      That for his bold message I do him defye;\n    And shortlye with basins and pans will him ring\n      Out of North-Gales; where he and I\n      With swords, and not razors, quickly shall trye,\n    Whether he, or King Arthur will prove the best barbor;\n    And therewith he shook his good sword Escalabor.\n\nKing Arthur met this upstart in battle on a high mountain, and there\nthe king slew Ryence with the sword, spoiling him of that rich garment\nof furs, with its border of dead men's beards.\n\nAnd now as he looked down at the loathly Dinabuc he realized that he\nhad this time conquered a monster more loathly and misshapen, a giant\nmore horrible, bigger and mightier than was Ryence, even in the prime\nof his youth and strength.\n\nWhen he had thought upon these things the king said to his comrades:\n\n\"Anon strike off his head and put it on a stake, give it to thy squire,\nfor he is well mounted: bear it to Sir Howel, that is in sore straits,\nand bid him take heart, for his enemy is destroyed: then bear it to\nBarfleur and fasten it on iron and set it on the barbican for men to\nsee: my sword and my broad shield lie upon the moor on the crest of\nthe crag where first we fought, and the club thereby all of bright\niron, that hath killed many a Christian in the land of Cotentin: go\nto the foreland and fetch me that weapon, and let us go back to our\nfleet where it lays in the water. If thou wilt have any treasure take\nwhatever thou likest: I will have the mantle and the club, I covet\nnaught else.\"\n\nNow they go to the crag, these comely knights, and brought him the\nbroad shield and his bright weapon, the club and the cloak too. Sir\nCayous himself goes with the conqueror to show the kings whom the king\nhad with him in secret, while bright day climbed up above through the\nclouds.\n\nBy that time a great noise was there at the court, and in front of the\ncomely king they kneeled all together, \"Welcome, our liege lord, too\nlong hast thou fought, our governor under God, ablest and most noble,\nto whom grace is granted and given at his will. Now thy happy arrival\nhath comforted us all, thou hast in thy royalty revenged they people.\nThrough help of thy hand thine enemy is destroyed that overcame thy\npeople and reft them of their children: never was there kingdom so\nreadily relieved of its troubles.\"\n\nThen the conqueror speaks Christianlike to his people, \"Thank ye God,\"\nquoth he, \"for his grace and no man, for man's deed it never was but\nHis own might, or a miracle of His Mother's, who is so mild to all.\" He\ncalled then the boatmen sharply at once to hasten with the shoremen to\nshift the goods.\n\n\"All that great treasure which the traitor won, see it be given to the\ncommons, clergy, and others of the country; see it be dealt out to my\ndear people so that none may complain, under penalty of your lives.\" He\nordered his cousin with knightly words to build a church on the rock\nwhere the body lay, and a convent therein for service to Christ, in\nmemory of that martyr who rests in the mountain.\n\nAnd that beautiful pinnacled church, thrusting up from the island's\nrocky cliffs toward the sky, you may see at this very day.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nSIR LAUNCELOT AND TARQUIN\n\n\nThere is a mound in Penrith churchyard, in the Cumberland county\nof England, which is still called \"The Giant's Grave.\" A pair of\ntwelve-foot, round stone pillars stand for head and foot stone, fifteen\nfeet apart--a prodigious suggestion as to the size of him who lies\nthere.\n\nLegend has it that there was buried here a fell giant named Tarquin,\nwho ravaged the country far and wide, in defiance of King Arthur, until\non a day he met with Sir Launcelot du Lake. Which takes us back at one\nleap some fifteen hundred years.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn all tournaments and jousts Sir Launcelot was never overcome, but it\nwere by treason or enchantment. On a time, having long diverted him at\nthe court he rode forth with his brother Sir Lionel to seek adventures.\n\nSo they mounted upon their horses armed at all points, and rode into\na deep forest; and after they came into a great plain, and then the\nweather was hot about noon, and Sir Launcelot had great list to sleep.\n\nThen Sir Lionel espied a great apple tree that stood by an hedge, and\nsaid: \"Brother, yonder is a fair shadow, there may we rest us and our\nhorses.\"\n\n\"It is well said, fair brother,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"for of all this\nseven year I was not so sleepy as now.\"\n\nAnd as they there alighted and tied their horses under sundry trees,\nand so Sir Launcelot laid him down under the apple tree, and his helm\nhe laid under his head. And Sir Lionel waked while he slept. So Sir\nLauncelot was asleep passing fast. And in the meanwhile there came\nthree knights riding, fleeing as fast as ever they might ride. And\nthere followed them three but one knight.\n\nWhen Sir Lionel saw him, him thought he saw never so great a knight nor\nso well faring a man, neither so well apparelled unto all rights. (For\nhe was truly a giant in size.) So within a while this strong knight had\novertaken one of these knights, and then he smote him to the cold earth\nthat he lay still. Then he rode unto the second knight and smote him as\nthat man and horse fell down. And then straight to the third knight he\nrode, and he smote him behind his horse's tail a spear's length. And he\nalighted down, and reined his horse on the bridle, and bound all the\nthree knights fast with the reins of their own bridles.\n\nWhen Sir Lionel saw him do this, he thought to assay him, and made him\nready, and stilly and privily he took his horse, and thought not for to\nawake Sir Launcelot. And when he was mounted on his horse he overtook\nthis strong knight and bade him turn: and the other smote Sir Lionel\nso hard that horse and man he bare to the earth, and so he alighted\nand bound him fast, and threw him overthwart his own horse, and so he\nserved them all four, and rode with them away to his own castle. And\nwhen he came there he made unarm them, and beat them with thorns all\nnaked, and after put them in a deep prison where there were many more\nknights that made great dolor.\n\nWhen Sir Ector de Maris wist that Sir Launcelot was past out of the\ncourt to seek adventures he was wroth with himself, and made him ready\nto seek Sir Launcelot, and as he had ridden long in a great forest, he\nmet with a man that was like a forester. \"Fair fellow,\" said Sir Ector,\n\"knowest thou in this country any adventures that be here nigh hand?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the forester, \"this country know I well, and hereby within\nthis mile is a strong manor, and well diked, and by that manor, on the\nleft hand, there is a fair ford for horses to drink of, and over that\nford there groweth a fair tree, and thereon hangeth many fair shields\nthat wielded sometime good knights: and at the bole of the tree hangeth\na basin of copper and brass. Strike upon that basin with the butt of\nthy spear thrice, and soon after thou shall hear new tidings, and else\nhast thou the fairest grace that many a year had ever knight that\npassed through this forest.\"\n\n\"Gramercy,\" said Sir Ector, and departed and came to the tree, and\nsaw many fair shields, and among them he saw his brother's shield,\nSir Lionel, and many more that he knew that were his fellows of the\nRound Table, the which grieved his heart, and he promised to revenge\nhis brother. Then anon Sir Ector beat upon the basin as he were wood,\nand then he gave his horse drink at the ford: and there came a very\ntall knight behind him and bade him come out of the water and make him\nready; and Sir Ector anon turned him shortly and in rest placed his\nspear, and smote the knight a great buffet that his horse turned twice\nabout.\n\n\"This was well done,\" said the huge knight, \"and knightly thou hast\nstricken me.\"\n\nTherewith he rushed his horse on Sir Ector and caught him under his\nright arm, and bare him clean out of the saddle, and rode with him away\ninto his own hall, and threw him down in the midst of the floor. The\nname of this strong knight was Sir Tarquin.\n\nThen he said to Sir Ector: \"For thou hast done this day more unto me\nthan any knight did these twelve years, now I will grant thee thy life,\nso thou wilt be sworn to be my prisoner all thy life days.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Ector, \"that will I never promise thee, but that I will\ndo mine advantage.\"\n\n\"That me repenteth,\" said Sir Tarquin.\n\nAnd then he made to unarm him, and beat him with thorns all naked, and\nafter put him down in that same deep dungeon, where he knew many of his\nfellows. But when Sir Ector saw Sir Lionel, then made he great sorrow.\n\n\"Alas, brother,\" said Sir Ector, \"where is my brother Sir Launcelot?\"\n\n\"Fair brother, I left him on sleep when that I from him went, under an\napple tree; and what is become of him I cannot tell you.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the knights, \"but Sir Launcelot help us we may never be\ndelivered, for we know now no knight that is able to match our master\nTarquin.\"\n\nWhile these knights were thus prisoners Sir Launcelot du Lake lay under\nthe apple tree sleeping.\n\nEven about the noon, there came by him four queens of great estate;\nand, for the heat of the sun should not annoy them, there rode four\nknights about them and bare a cloth of green silk on four spears,\nbetwixt them and the sun, and the queens rode on four white mules.\n\nThus as they rode they heard by them a great horse grimly neigh, and\nthen they were ware of a sleeping knight that lay all armed under an\napple tree; anon as these queens looked on his face they knew that it\nwas Sir Launcelot. Then they began to strive for that knight; every one\nsaid she would have him to her love.\n\n\"We shall not strive,\" said Morgan le Fay that was King Arthur's\nsister; \"I shall put an enchantment upon him that he shall not awake in\nsix hours, and then I will lead him away unto my castle, and when he is\nsurely within my hold I shall take the enchantment from him, and then\nlet him choose which of us he will have for his love.\"\n\nSo this enchantment was cast upon Sir Launcelot, and then they laid\nhim upon his shield, and bare him so on horseback betwixt two knights,\nand brought him unto the castle Chariot, and there they laid him in a\nchamber cold, and at night they sent unto him a fair damsel with his\nsupper ready dight. By that the enchantment was past, and when she came\nshe saluted him, and asked him what cheer?\n\n\"I cannot say, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for I wot not how I\ncame into this castle but it be by an enchantment.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"ye must make good cheer, and if ye be such a knight\nas it is said ye be. I shall tell you more tomorn by prime of the day.\"\n\n\"Gramercy, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"of your good will I\nrequite you.\"\n\nAnd so she departed. And there he lay all that night without comfort of\nanybody.\n\nAnd on the morn early came these four queens, passingly well beseen,\nall they bidding him good morn, and he them again.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" the four queens said, \"thou must understand thou art here\nour prisoner; and we here know thee well, that thou art Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake, King Ban's son. And truly we understand your worthiness that\nthou art the noblest knight living; and therefore thee behoveth now\nto choose one of us four. I am the queen Morgan le Fay, queen of the\nland of Gore, and here is the queen of Northgalis, and the queen of\nEastland, and the queen of the Out Isles; now choose ye one of us which\nthou wilt have to thy love, for thou mayst not but choose or else in\nthis prison to die.\"\n\n\"This is an hard case,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that either I must die\nor else choose one of you, yet had I liever to die in this prison\nwith worship, than to have one of you to my love maugre my head. And\ntherefore ye be answered, for I will have none of you, for ye be false\nenchantresses.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the queens, \"is this your answer, that you will refuse us?\"\n\n\"Yea, upon my life,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"refused ye be of me.\"\n\nSo they departed and left him there alone that made great sorrow!\n\nRight so at noon came the damsel to him, and brought him his dinner,\nand asked him what cheer.\n\n\"Truly, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"in all my life-days never so\nill.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"that me repenteth; but an ye will be ruled by me, I\nshall keep you out of this distress, and ye shall have no shame nor\nvillainy, so that ye hold me a promise.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel, that I will grant you, and sore I am afeared of these\nqueen's witches, for they have destroyed many a good knight.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"that is sooth, and for the renoun and bounty they\nhear of you they would have your love, and, sir, they say that your\nname is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the flower of all the knights that been\nliving, and they been passing wroth with you that ye have refused them;\nbut, sir, an ye would promise me for to help my father on Tuesday\nnext coming, that hath made a tournament between him and the king of\nNorthgalis; for the Tuesday last past my father lost the field through\nthree knights of King Arthur's court, and if ye will be there upon\nTuesday next coming and help my father, tomorrow or prime, by the grace\nof God, I shall deliver you clean.\"\n\n\"Fair maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"tell me what is your father's name,\nand then I shall give you an answer.\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said the damsel, \"my father is King Bagdemagus, that was\nfoully rebuked at the last tournament.\"\n\n\"I know your father well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for a noble king and a\ngood knight, and by the faith of my body, ye shall have my body ready\nto do your father and you service that day.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the damsel, \"gramercy; tomorrow await that ye be ready\nbetimes, and I shall deliver you; and take you your armor and your\nhorse, shield and spear; and hereby within these ten miles is an abbey\nof white monks, and there I pray you to abide, and thither shall I\nbring my father unto you.\"\n\n\"All this shall be done,\" said Launcelot, \"as I am a true knight.\"\n\nAnd so she departed, and came on the morrow early and found him ready.\nThen she brought him out of twelve locks, and brought him unto his\narmor. And when he was all armed and arrayed, she brought him unto his\nown horse, and lightly he saddled him, and took a great spear in his\nhand, and so rode forth, and said, \"Fair damsel, I shall not fail you,\nby the grace of God.\"\n\nSo the knight rode forth and performed that adventure, according as\nhe had promised; and Sir Launcelot overthrew the three knights of King\nArthur's court, one after the other; and with one great spear he bare\ndown sixteen knights of the king of Northgalis' party, and with another\nspear he smote down twelve knights. Then the knights of Northgalis\nwould joust no more, and the prize was given unto King Bagdemagus.\n\nAnd so Sir Launcelot departed, and by adventures he came into the same\nforest where he was taken sleeping. And in the midst of an highway he\nmet a damsel riding on a white palfrey, and there either saluted other.\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Launcelot, \"know ye in this country any adventures?\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said the damsel, \"here are adventures near hand, an thou\ndurst prove them.\"\n\n\"Why should I not prove adventures?\" said Sir Launcelot; \"for that\ncause came I hither.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"thou seemest well to be a good knight, and if thou\ndare meet with a good knight, I shall bring thee where is the best\nknight and the mightiest that ever thou foundest, so thou wilt tell me\nwhat is thy name, and what knight thou art.\"\n\n\"Damsel, as for to tell thee my name, I take no great force: truly my\nname is Sir Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\n\"Sir, thou beseemest well, here he adventures by that fall for thee,\nfor hereby dwelleth a knight that will not be overmatched for no man\nthat I know, unless ye overmatch him, and his name is Sir Tarquin. And,\nas I understand, he hath in his prison of Arthur's court good knights\nthree-score and four that he hath won with his own hands. But when ye\nhave done that day's work ye shall promise me as ye are a true knight\nfor to go with me, and to help me and other damsels that are distressed\ndaily with a false knight.\"\n\n\"All your intent, damsel, and desire I will fulfill, so ye will bring\nme unto this knight.\"\n\n\"Now, fair knight, come on your way.\"\n\nAnd so she brought him unto the ford, and unto the tree where hung the\nbasin. So Sir Launcelot let his horse drink, and then he beat on the\nbasin with the butt of his spear so hard with all his might till the\nbottom fell out, and long he did so, but he saw nothing.\n\nThen he rode along the gates of that manor nigh half an hour. And then\nhe was ware of a great knight that drove on horse before him, and\noverthwart the horse there lay an armed knight bound. And ever as they\ncame near and near, Sir Launcelot thought he should know him; then he\nwas ware that it was Sir Gaheris, Gawain's brother, a knight of the\nTable Round.\n\n\"Now, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I see yonder cometh a knight\nfast bound that is a fellow of mine. And at the first beginning I\npromise you, by the leave of God, to rescue that knight; and unless his\nmaster sit better in the saddle I shall deliver all the prisoners that\nhe hath out of danger, for I am sure that he hath two brethren of mine\nprisoners with him.\"\n\nBy that time that either had seen other they gripped their spears unto\nthem.\n\n\"Now, fair knight,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"put that wounded knight off\nthe horse, and let him rest awhile, and let us two prove our strengths.\nFor as it is informed me, thou doest and hast done great despite and\nshame unto knights of the Round Table, and therefore now defend thee.\"\n\n\"And thou be of the Table Round,\" said Tarquin, \"I defy thee and all\nthy fellowship.\"\n\n\"That is overmuch said,\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\nThen they put their spears in the rests, and came together with their\nhorses as fast as they might run, and either smote other in the midst\nof their shields, that both their horses' backs brast under them; and\nthe knights were both astonied, and as soon as they might avoid their\nhorses they took their shields afore them, and drew out their swords\nand came together eagerly, and either gave other many strong strokes,\nfor there might neither shields nor harness hold their strokes. And so\nthey had both grimly wounds, and bled passing grievously.\n\nThus they fared two hours or more, trasing and rasing each other where\nthey might hit any bare place. Then at the last they were breathless\nboth, and stood leaning on their swords.\n\n\"Now, fellow,\" said Sir Tarquin, \"hold thy hand awhile, and tell me\nwhat I shall ask thee.\"\n\n\"Say on.\"\n\nThen Tarquin said: \"Thou art the stoutest man that ever I met withal,\nand the best breathed, and like one knight that I hate above all other\nknights; so be it that thou be not he I will lightly accord with thee,\nand for thy love I will deliver all the prisoners that I have, that\nis three-score and four, so thou wilt tell me thy name. And thou and I\nwill be fellows together, and never to fail the while that I live.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"but since it is so that I may\nhave thy friendship, what knight is he that thou so hatest above all\nother?\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Tarquin, \"his name is Launcelot du Lake, for he slew\nmy brother Sir Carados at the Dolorous Tower, which was one of the best\nknights then living; and therefore him I except of all knights, for an\nI may once meet with him, that one of us shall make an end of another,\nand to that I make a vow. And for Sir Launcelot's sake I have slain an\nhundred good knights, and as many I have utterly maimed, that never\nafter they might help themselves, and many have died in my prison; and\nyet I have three-score and four, and all shall be delivered so thou\nwilt tell me thy name, and so it be that thou be not Sir Launcelot.\"\n\n\"Now see I well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that such a man I might be I\nmight have peace, and such a man I might be there should be between\nus two mortal war; and now, sir knight, at thy request, I will that\nthou wit and know that I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of\nBerwick, and knight of the Round Table. And now I defy thee do thy\nbest.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Sir Tarquin. \"Launcelot, thou art unto me most welcome, as\never was any knight, for we shall never depart till the one of us be\ndead.\"\n\nThen hurtled they together as two wild bulls, rashing and lashing with\ntheir shields and swords, that sometime they fell both on their faces.\nThus they fought still two hours and more, and never would rest, and\nSir Tarquin gave Sir Launcelot many wounds that all the ground there as\nthey fought was all besprinkled with blood.\n\nThen at last Sir Tarquin waxed very faint, and gave somewhat back, and\nbare his shield full low for weariness.\n\nThat soon espied Sir Launcelot, and then leaped upon him fiercely as a\nlion, and got him by the banner of his helmet, and as he plucked him\ndown on his knees, and anon he raised his helm, and then he smote his\nneck asunder.\n\nSir Launcelot freed all the prisoners from that loathsome prison; and\ndespite his grievous wounds on the third day after he rode forth in\nquest of further adventures.\n\nAs he rode over a long bridge, there started upon him suddenly a\npassing foul churl, and he smote his horse on the nose that he turned\nabout, and asked him why he rode over that bridge without his license.\n\n\"Why should I not ride this way?\" said Sir Launcelot. \"I may not ride\nbeside.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt not choose,\" said the churl, and lashed at him with a great\nclub shod with iron. Then Sir Launcelot drew a sword, and put the\nstroke aback, and clave his head unto the breast.\n\nAt the end of the bridge was a fair village, and all the people, men\nand women, cried on Sir Launcelot, and said: \"A worse deed didst thou\nnever for thyself, for thou hast slain the chief porter of our castle.\"\n\nSir Launcelot let them say what they would, and straight he went into\nthe castle; and when he came into the castle he alighted, and tied his\nhorse to a ring on the wall; and there he saw a fair green court, and\nthither he dressed himself, for there him thought was a fair place to\nfight in.\n\nSo he looked about, and saw much people in doors and windows, that\nsaid, \"Fair knight, thou art unhappy.\"\n\nAnon withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed all save\nthe heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands.\n\nSir Launcelot put his shield afore him, and put the stroke away of\nthe one giant, and with his sword he clave his head asunder. When his\nfellow saw that he ran away as he were wood, for fear of the horrible\nstrokes; and Sir Launcelot after him with all his might, and smote him\non the shoulder, and clave him to the middle.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot went into the hall, and there came before him\nthreescore ladies and damsels, and all kneeled unto him, and thanked\nGod and him of their deliverance.\n\n\"For, sir,\" said they, \"the most part of us have been here this seven\nyear their prisoners, and we have worked all manner of silk works for\nour meat, and we are all great gentlewomen born; for thou hast done\nthe most worship that ever knight did in the world, that will we bear\nrecord, and we all pray you to tell us your name, that we may tell our\nfriends who delivered us out of prison.\"\n\n\"Fair damsels,\" he said, \"my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\n\"Ah, sir,\" said they all, \"well mayst thou be he, for else save\nyourself, as we deemed, there might never knight have the better of\nthese two giants, for many fair knights have assayed it, and here have\nended; and many times have we wished after you, and these two giants\ndread never knight but you.\"\n\n\"Now may you say,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"unto your friends how and who\nhath delivered you, and greet them all for me; and if that I come in\nany of your marches show me such cheer as ye have cause; and what\ntreasure that there is in this castle I give it you for a reward for\nyour grievances. And the lord that is the owner of this castle I would\nthat he received it as is right.\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said they, \"the name of this castle is Tintagil, and a duke\nowned it that some time wedded fair Igraine, and after wedded her Uther\nPendragon.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I understand to whom this castle\nbelongeth.\"\n\nAnd so he departed and betaught them unto God. And then he mounted upon\nhis horse and rode into many strange and wild countries and through\nmany waters and valleys.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF YVAIN\n\n\nYvain was one of King Arthur's knights, and strange were his\nadventures. After defeating a mysterious knight in the forest and\nchasing his dying adversary into his town, he found himself in sad\nenough case--through the fact that no sooner had he looked on the face\nof the lady of the slain man than he found himself smitten with a\nmortal wound of love.\n\nThrough the aid of the lady's damsel, he won the hand of this beautiful\ncreature. Then, persuaded by Gawain and his old comrades, he left his\nwife and town for more deeds of knight-errantry, promising to return on\na certain day.\n\nBut success showered her favors so thick upon him that he forgot his\npromise and over-stayed the allotted time; and his bride sent to him\na scornful message, returning his ring, and bidding him send back her\nown. Whereupon the triumphant Yvain, utterly cast down, wandered forth\nhe knew not where.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSenseless and deprived of speech, Yvain is unable to reply. And the\ndamsel steps forth and takes the ring from his finger, commending to\nGod the King and all the others except him, whom she leaves in deep\ndistress. And his sorrow grows on him: he feels oppressed by what he\nhears, and is tormented by what he sees. He would rather be banished\nalone in some wild land, where no man or woman would know of his\nwhereabouts any more than if he were in some deep abyss. He hates\nnothing so much as he hates himself, nor does he know to whom to go for\ncomfort in the death he has brought upon himself. But he would rather\ngo insane than not take vengeance upon himself, deprived, as he is, of\njoy through his own fault.\n\nHe rises from his place among the knights, fearing he will lose his\nmind if he stays longer in their midst. On their part, they pay no\nheed to him, but let him take his departure alone. They know well\nenough that he cares nothing for their talk or their society. And he\ngoes away until he is far from the tents and pavilions. Then such a\nstorm broke loose in his brain that he loses his senses; he tears his\nflesh and, stripping off his clothes, he flees across the meadows and\nfields, leaving his men quite at a loss, and wondering what has become\nof him. They go in search of him through all the country around--in the\nlodgings of the knights, by the hedge-rows, and in the gardens--but\nthey seek him where he is not to be found.\n\nStill fleeing, he rapidly pursued his way until he met close by a park\na lad who had in his hand a bow and five barbed arrows, which were very\nsharp and broad. He had sense enough to go and take the bow and arrows\nwhich he held. However, he had no recollection of anything that he had\ndone.\n\nHe lies in wait for the beasts in the woods, killing them, and then\neating the venison raw. Thus he dwelt in the forest like a madman or\na savage, until he came upon a little, low-lying house belonging to a\nhermit, who was at work clearing his ground. When he saw him coming\nwith nothing on, he could easily perceive that he was not in his right\nmind; and such was the case, as the hermit very well knew. So, in fear,\nhe shut himself up in his little house, and taking some bread and fresh\nwater, he charitably set it outside the house on a narrow window-ledge.\n\nAnd thither the other comes, hungry for the bread--which he takes and\neats. I do not believe that he ever before had tasted such hard and\nbitter bread. The measure of barley kneaded with the straw, of which\nthe bread, sourer than yeast, was made, had not cost more than five\nsous; and the bread was musty and as dry as bark. But hunger torments\nand whets his appetite, so that the bread tasted to him like sauce. For\nhunger is itself a well mixed and concocted sauce for any food.\n\nMy lord Yvain soon ate the hermit's bread, which tasted good to him,\nand drank the cool water from the jar. When he had eaten, he betook\nhimself again to the woods in search of stags and does. And when he\nsees him going away, the good man beneath his roof prays God to defend\nhim and guard him lest he ever pass that way again. But there is no\ncreature, with howsoever little sense, that will not gladly return to\na place where he is kindly treated. So, not a day passed while he was\nin this mad fit that he did not bring to his door some wild game. Such\nwas the life he led; and the good man took it upon himself to remove\nthe skin and set a good quantity of the venison to cook; and the bread\nand the water in the jug was always standing on the window-ledge for\nthe madman to make a meal. Thus he had something to eat and drink:\nvenison without salt or pepper, and good cool water from the spring.\n\nAnd the good man exerted himself to sell the hide and buy bread made\nof barley, or oats, or of some other grain; so, after that, Yvain had\na plentiful supply of bread and venison, which sufficed him for a long\ntime, until one day he was found asleep in the forest by two damsels\nand their mistress, in whose service they were.\n\nWhen they saw the naked man, one of the three ran and dismounted and\nexamined him closely, before she saw anything about him which would\nserve to identify him. If he had only been richly attired, as he had\nbeen many a time, and if she could have seen him then, she would have\nknown him quickly enough. But she was slow to recognize him, and\ncontinued to look at him until at last she noticed a scar which he had\non his face, and she recollected that my lord Yvain's face was scarred\nin this same way; she was sure of it, for she had often seen it.\nBecause of the scar she saw that it was he beyond any doubt; but she\nmarvelled greatly how it came about that she found him thus poor and\nstripped.\n\nOften she crosses herself in amazement, but she does not touch him or\nwake him up; rather does she mount her horse again, and going back to\nthe others, tells them tearfully of her adventure. I do not know if I\nought to delay to tell you of the grief she showed; but thus she spoke\nweeping to her mistress: \"My lady, I have found Yvain, who has proved\nhimself to be the best knight in the world, and the most virtuous. I\ncannot imagine what sin has reduced the gentleman to such a plight. I\nthink he must have had some misfortune, which causes him thus to demean\nhimself, for one may lose his wits through grief. And any one can see\nthat he is not in his right mind, for it would surely never be like him\nto conduct himself thus indecently unless he had lost his mind. Would\nthat God had restored to him the best sense he ever had, and would that\nhe might then consent to render assistance to your cause! For Count\nAlier, who is at war with you, has made upon you a fierce attack. I\nshould see the strife between you two quickly settled in your favor if\nGod favored your fortunes so that Yvain should return to his senses and\nundertake to aid you in this stress.\"\n\nTo this the lady made reply: \"Take care now! For surely, if he does\nnot escape, with God's help I think we can clear his head of all the\nmadness and insanity. But we must be on our way at once! For I recall a\ncertain ointment with which Morgan the Wise presented me, saying there\nwas no delirium of the head which it would not cure.\"\n\nThereupon, they go off at once toward the town, which was hard by, for\nit was not any more than half a league of the kind they have in that\ncountry; and, as compared with ours, two of their leagues make one and\nfour make two. And he remains sleeping all alone, while the lady goes\nto fetch the ointment.\n\nThe lady opens a case of hers, and, taking out a box, gives to the\ndamsel, and charges her not to be too prodigal in its use: she\nshould rub only his temples with it, for there is no use of applying\nit elsewhere; she should anoint only his temples with it, and the\nremainder she should carefully keep, for there is nothing the matter\nwith him except in his brain. She sends him also a robe of spotted fur,\na coat, and a mantle of scarlet silk.\n\nThe damsel takes them, and leads in her right hand an excellent\npalfrey. And she added to these, of her own store, a shirt, some soft\nhose, and some new drawers of proper cut. With all these things she\nquickly set out, and found him still asleep where she had left him.\n\nAfter putting her horse in an enclosure where she tied him fast, she\ncame with the clothes and the ointment to the place where he was\nasleep. Then she made so bold as to approach the madman, so that she\ncould touch and handle him; taking the ointment she rubbed him with it\nuntil none remained in the box, being so solicitous for his recovery\nthat she proceeded to anoint him all over with it; and she used it so\nfreely that she heeded not the warning of her mistress, nor indeed did\nshe remember it. She put more on than was needed, but in her opinion it\nwas well employed. She rubbed his temples and forehead, and his whole\nbody down to the ankles. She rubbed his temples and his whole body so\nmuch there in the hot sunshine that the madness and the depressing\ngloom passes completely out of his brain. But she was foolish to anoint\nhis body, for of that there was no need. If she had had five measures\nof it she would doubtless have done the same thing.\n\nShe carries off the box, and takes hidden refuge by her horse. But she\nleaves the robe behind, wishing that, if God calls him back to life,\nhe may see it all laid out, and may take it and put it on. She posts\nherself behind an oak-tree until he had slept enough, and was cured and\nquite restored, having regained his wits and memory.\n\nThen he sees that he is as naked as ivory, and feels much ashamed; but\nhe would have been yet more ashamed had he known what had happened.\nAs it is, he knows nothing but that he is naked. He sees the new robe\nlying before him, and marvels greatly how and by what adventure it had\ncome there. But he is ashamed and concerned because of his nakedness,\nand says that he is dead and utterly undone if any one has come upon\nhim there and recognized him.\n\nMeanwhile, he clothes himself and looks out into the forest to see\nif any one is approaching. He tries to stand up and support himself,\nbut cannot summon the strength to walk away, for his sickness has so\naffected him that he can scarcely stand upon his feet.\n\nThereupon, the damsel resolves to wait no longer, but, mounting, she\npassed close by him, as if unaware of his presence. Quite indifferent\nas to whence might come the help, which he needed so much to lead him\naway to some lodging-place, where he might recruit his strength, he\ncalls out to her with all his might.\n\nAnd the damsel, for her part, looks about her as if not knowing what\nthe trouble is. Confused, she goes hither and thither, not wishing to\ngo straight up to him.\n\nThen he begins to call again: \"Damsel, come this way, here!\" And the\ndamsel guided toward him her soft-stepping palfrey. By this ruse she\nmade him think that she knew nothing of him and had never seen him\nbefore; in so doing she was wise and courteous.\n\nWhen she had come before him, she said: \"Sir knight, what so you desire\nthat you call me so insistently?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said he, \"prudent damsel, I have found myself in this wood by\nsome mishap--I know not what. For God's sake and your belief in Him,\nI pray you to lend me, taking my word as a pledge, or else to give me\noutright, that palfrey you are leading in your hand.\"\n\n\"Gladly, sire; but you must accompany me whither I am going.\"\n\n\"Which way?\" says he.\n\n\"To a town that stands near by, beyond the forest.\"\n\n\"Tell me, damsel, if you stand in need of me.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she says, \"I do; but I think you are not very well. For the next\ntwo weeks at least you ought to rest. Take this horse, which I hold in\nmy right hand, and we shall go to our lodging-place.\"\n\nAnd he, who had no other desire, takes it and mounts, and they proceed\nuntil they come to a bridge over a swift and turbulent stream. And the\ndamsel throws into the water the empty box she is carrying thinking\nto excuse herself to her mistress for her ointment by saying that she\nwas so unlucky as to let the box fall into the water; for, when her\npalfrey stumbled under her, the box slipped from her grasp, and she\ncame near falling in too, which would have been still worse luck. It is\nher intention to invent this story when she comes into her mistress's\npresence.\n\nTogether they held their way until they came to the town, where the\nlady detained my lord Yvain and asked the damsel in private for her\nbox and ointment; and the damsel repeated to her the lie as she had\ninvented it, not daring to tell her the truth.\n\nThen the lady was greatly enraged, and said: \"This is certainly a very\nserious loss, and I am sure and certain that the box will never be\nfound again. But since it has happened so, there is nothing more to be\ndone about it. One often desires a blessing which turns out to be a\ncurse; thus I, who looked for a blessing and joy from this knight, have\nlost the dearest and most precious of my possessions. However, I beg\nyou to serve him in all respects.\"\n\n\"Ah, lady, how wisely now you speak! For it would be too bad to convert\none misfortune into two.\"\n\nThen they say no more about the box, but minister in every way they\ncan to the comfort of my lord Yvain, bathing him and washing his hair,\nhaving him shaved and clipped, for one could have taken up a fist full\nof hair upon his face. His every want is satisfied: if he asks for\narms, they are furnished him; if he wants a horse, they provide him\nwith one that is large and handsome, strong and spirited.\n\nHe stayed there until, upon a Tuesday, Count Alier came to the town\nwith his men and knights, who started fires and took plunder. Those\nin the town at once rose up and equipped themselves with arms. Some\narmed and some unarmed, they issued forth to meet the plunderers, who\ndid not deign to retreat before them, but awaited them in a narrow\npass. My lord Yvain struck at the crowd; he had had so long a rest\nthat his strength was quite restored, and he struck a knight upon his\nshield with such force that he sent down in a heap, I think, the knight\ntogether with his horse. The knight never rose again, for his backbone\nwas broken and his heart burst within his breast. My lord Yvain drew\nback a little to recover, then protecting himself completely with\nhis shield, he spurred forward to clear the pass. One could not have\ncounted up to four before one would have seen him cast down speedily\nfour knights. Whereupon, those who were with him waxed more brave, for\nmany a man of poor and timid heart, at the sight of some brave man\nwho attacks a dangerous task before his eyes, will be overwhelmed by\nconfusion and shame, which will drive out the poor heart in his body\nand give him another like to a hero's for courage. So these men grew\nbrave and each stood his ground in the fight and attack.\n\nAnd the lady was up in the tower, whence she saw the fighting and\nthe rush to win and gain possession of the pass, and she saw lying\nupon the ground many who were wounded and many killed, both of her own\nparty and of the enemy, but more of the enemy than of her own. For my\ncourteous, bold, and excellent lord Yvain made them yield just as the\nfalcon does the teal. And the men and women who had remained within the\ntown declared as they watched the strife: \"Ah, what a valiant knight!\nHow he makes his enemies yield, and how fierce is his attack! He slays\nabout him as a lion among the fallow deer, when he is impelled by need\nand hunger. Then, too, all our other knights are more brave and daring\nbecause of him, for, were it not for him alone, not a lance would have\nbeen splintered nor a sword drawn to strike. When such an excellent man\nis found he ought to be loved and dearly prized. See now how he proves\nhimself, see how he maintains his place, see how he stains with blood\nhis lance and bare sword, see how he presses the enemy and follows\nthem up, how he comes boldly to attack then, then gives away and turns\nabout; but he spends little time in giving away, and soon returns to\nthe attack. See him in the fray again, how lightly he esteems his\nshield, which he allows to be cut in pieces mercilessly. Just see how\nkeen he is to avenge the blows which are dealt at him. For, if some one\nshould use all the forest of Argonne to make lances for him, I guess\nhe would have none left by night. For he breaks all the lances that\nthey place in his socket, and calls for more. And see how he wields the\nsword when he draws it! Roland never wrought such havoc with Durandal\nagainst the Turks at Ronceval or in Spain! If he had in his company\nsome good companions like himself, the traitor, whose attack we are\nsuffering, would retreat to-day discomfited, or would stand his ground\nonly to find defeat.\"\n\nThen they say that the woman would be blessed who should be loved\nby one who is so powerful in arms, and who above all others may be\nrecognized as a taper among candles, as a moon among the stars, and as\nthe sun above the moon. He so won the hearts of all that the prowess\nwhich they see in him made them wish that he had taken their lady to\nwife, and that he were master of the land.\n\nThus man and woman alike praised him, and in doing so they but told the\ntruth. For his attack on his adversaries was such that they vie with\none another in flight. But he presses hard upon their heels, and all\nhis companions follow him, for by his side they feel as safe as if they\nwere enclosed in a high and thick stone wall. The pursuit continues\nuntil those who flee become exhausted, and the pursuers slash at them\nand disembowel their steeds. The living roll over upon the dead as they\nwound and kill each other. They work dreadful destruction upon each\nother; and meanwhile the Count flees with my lord Yvain after him,\nuntil he comes up with him at the foot of a steep ascent, near the\nentrance of a strong place which belonged to the Count.\n\nThere the Count was stopped, with no one near to lend him aid; and\nwithout any excessive parley my lord Yvain received his surrender. For\nas soon as he held him in his hands, and they were left just man to\nman, there was no further possibility of escape, or of yielding, or of\nself-defence; so the Count pledged his word to go to surrender to the\nlady of Noroison as her prisoner, and to make such peace as she might\ndictate. And when he had accepted his word he made him disarm his head\nand remove the shield from about his neck, and the Count surrendered to\nhim his sword. Thus he won the honor of leading off the Count as his\nprisoner, and of giving him over to his enemies, who make no secret of\ntheir joy.\n\nBut the news was carried to the town before they themselves arrived.\nWhile all come forth to meet him, the lady herself leads the way. My\nlord Yvain holds his prisoner by the hand, and presents him to her.\nThe Count gladly acceded to her wishes and demands, and secured her\nby his word, oath, and pledges. Giving her pledges, he swears to her\nthat he will always live on peaceful terms with her, and will make good\nto her all the loss which she can prove, and will build up again the\nhouses which he had destroyed. When these things were agreed upon in\naccordance with the lady's wish, my lord Yvain asked leave to depart.\nBut she would not have granted him this permission had he been willing\nto take her as his mistress, or to marry her. But he would not allow\nhimself to be followed or escorted a single step, but rather departed\nhastily: in this case entreaty was of no avail.\n\nSo he started out to retrace his path, leaving the lady much chagrined,\nwhose joy he had caused a while before. When he will not tarry\nlonger she is the more distressed and ill at ease in proportion to\nthe happiness he had brought to her, for she would have wished to\nhonor him, and would have made him, with his consent, lord of all her\npossessions, or else she would have paid him for his services whatever\nsum he might have named. But he would not heed any word of man or\nwoman. Despite their grief he left the knights and the lady who vainly\ntried to detain him longer.\n\nPensively my lord Yvain proceeded through a deep wood until he heard\namong the trees a very loud and dismal cry, and he turned in the\ndirection whence it seemed to come. And when he had arrived upon the\nspot he saw in a cleared space a lion, and a serpent which held him by\nthe tail, burning his hind-quarters with flames of fire.\n\nMy lord Yvain did not gape at this strange spectacle, but took counsel\nwith himself as to which of the two he should aid. Then he says that he\nwill succour the lion, for a treacherous and venomous creature deserves\nto be harmed. Now the serpent is poisonous, and fire bursts forth from\nits mouth--so full of wickedness is the creature. So my lord Yvain\ndecides that he will kill the serpent first.\n\nDrawing his sword he steps forward, holding the shield before his face\nin order not to be harmed by the flame emerging from the creature's\nthroat, which was larger than a pot. If the lion attacks him next,\nhe too shall have all the fight he wishes; but whatever may happen\nafterwards he makes up his mind to help him now. For pity urges him\nand makes request that he should bear succour and aid to the gentle and\nnoble beast.\n\nWith his sword, which cuts so clean, he attacks the wicked serpent,\nfirst cleaving him through to the earth and cutting him in two, then\ncontinuing his blows until he reduces him to tiny bits. But he had to\ncut off a piece of the lion's tail to get at the serpent's head, which\nheld the lion by the tail. He cut off only so much as was necessary and\nunavoidable.\n\nWhen he had set the lion free, he supposed that he would have to fight\nwith him, and the lion would come at him; but the lion was not minded\nso.\n\nJust hear now what the lion did! He acted nobly and as one well-bred;\nfor he began to make it evident that he yielded himself to him, by\nstanding upon his two hind-feet and bowing his face to the earth, with\nhis fore-feet joined and stretched out toward him. Then he fell on\nhis knees again, and all his face was wet with the tears of humility.\nMy lord Yvain knows for a truth that the lion is thanking him and\ndoing him homage because of the serpent which he had killed, thereby\ndelivering him from death. He was greatly pleased by this episode.\n\nHe cleaned his sword of the serpent's poison and filth; then he\nreplaced it in its scabbard, and resumed his way. And the lion walks\nclose by his side, unwilling henceforth to part from him; he will\nalways in future accompany him, eager to serve and protect him. He\ngoes ahead until he scents in the wind upon his way some wild beasts\nfeeding; then hunger and his nature prompt him to seek his prey and to\nsecure his sustenance. It is his nature so to do. He started ahead a\nlittle on the trail, thus showing his master that he had come upon and\ndetected the odor and scent of some wild game. Then he looks at him and\nhalts, wishing to serve every wish, and unwilling to proceed against\nhis will. Yvain understands by his attitude that he is showing that he\nawaits his pleasure. He perceives this and understands that if he holds\nback he will hold back too, and that if he follows him he will seize\nthe game which he has scented.\n\nThen he incites and cries to him, as he would do to hunting-dogs. At\nonce the lion directed his nose to the scent which he had detected,\nand by which he was not deceived, for he had not gone a bow-shot when\nhe saw in a valley a deer grazing all alone. This deer he will seize,\nif he has his way. And so he did, at the first spring, and then drank\nits blood still warm. When he had killed it he laid it upon his back\nand carried it back to his master, who thereupon conceived a greater\naffection for him, and chose him as a companion for all his life,\nbecause of the great devotion he found in him.\n\nIt was near night-fall now, and it seemed good to him to spend the\nnight there, and strip from the deer as much as he cared to eat.\nBeginning to carve it he splits the skin along the rib, and taking\na steak from the loin he strikes from a flint a spark, which he\ncatches in some dry brush-wood; then he quickly puts his steak upon a\nroasting-spit to cook before the fire, and roasts it until it is quite\ncooked through. But there was no pleasure in the meal, for there was\nno bread, or wine, or salt, or knife, or anything else.\n\nWhile he was eating, the lion lay at his feet; not a movement did he\nmake, but watched him steadily until he had eaten all that he could eat\nof the steak. What remained of the deer the lion devoured, even to the\nbones. And while all night his master laid his head upon his shield to\ngain such rest as that afforded, the lion showed such intelligence that\nhe kept awake, and was careful to guard the horse as it fed upon the\ngrass, which yielded some slight nourishment.\n\nIn the morning they go off together, and the same sort of existence,\nit seems, as they had led that night, they two continued to lead all\nthe ensuing week, until chance brought them to the spring beneath the\npine-tree. There my lord Yvain almost lost his wits a second time, as\nhe approached the spring, with its stone and the chapel that stood\nclose by.\n\nSo great was his distress that a thousand times he sighed \"alas!\" and\ngrieving fell in a swoon; and the point of his sharp sword, falling\nfrom its scabbard, pierced the meshes of his hauberk right in the neck\nbeside the cheek. There is not a mesh that does not spread, and the\nsword cuts the flesh of his neck beneath the shining mail, so that it\ncauses the blood to start.\n\nThen the lion thinks that he sees his master and companion dead. You\nnever heard greater grief narrated or told about anything than he now\nbegan to show. He casts himself about, and scratches and cries, and\nhas the wish to kill himself with the sword with which he thinks his\nmaster has killed himself. Taking the sword from his master with his\nteeth he lays it on a fallen tree, and steadies it on a trunk behind,\nso that it will not slip or give way, when he hurls his breast against\nit. His intention was nearly accomplished when his master recovered\nfrom his swoon and the lion restrained himself as he was blindly\nrushing upon death, like a wild boar heedless of where he wounds\nhimself.\n\nThus my lord Yvain lies in a swoon beside the stone, but, on\nrecovering, he violently reproached himself for the year during which\nhe had overstayed his leave, and for which he had incurred his lady's\nhate, and he said: \"Why does this wretch not kill himself who has thus\ndeprived himself of joy? Alas! why do I not take my life? How can I\nstay here and look upon what belongs to my lady? Why does the soul\nstill tarry in my body? What is the soul doing in so miserable a frame?\nIf it had already escaped away it would not be in such torment. It is\nfitting to hate and blame and despise myself, even as in fact I do.\nWhoever loses his bliss and contentment through fault or error of his\nown ought to hate himself mortally. He ought to hate and kill himself.\nAnd now, when no one is looking on, why do I thus spare myself? Why\ndo I not take my life? Have I not seen this lion a prey to such\ngrief on my behalf that he was on the point just now of thrusting my\nsword through his breast? And ought I to fear death who have changed\nhappiness into grief? Joy is now a stranger to me. Joy? What joy is\nthat? I shall say no more of that, for no one could speak of such\na thing; and I have asked a foolish question. That was the greatest\njoy of all which was assured as my possession, but it endured for but\na little while. Whoever loses such joy through his own misdeed is\nundeserving of happiness.\"\n\nThen my lord Yvain departs, and the lion, as usual, after him. They\njourneyed until they came to a baron's fortified place, which was\ncompletely surrounded by a massive, strong, and high wall. The castle,\nbeing extraordinarily well protected, feared no assault of catapult or\nstorming machine; but outside the walls the ground was so completely\ncleared that not a single hut or dwelling remained standing. You will\nlearn the cause of this a little later, when the time comes.\n\nMy lord Yvain made his way directly toward the fortified place, and\nseven varlets came out who lowered the bridge and advanced to meet him.\nBut they were terrified at the sight of the lion, which they saw with\nhim, and asked him kindly to leave the lion at the gate lest he should\nwound or kill them.\n\nAnd he replies: \"Say no more of that! For I shall not enter without\nhim. Either we shall both find shelter here or else I shall stay\noutside; he is as dear to me as I am myself. Yet you need have no fear\nof him! For I shall keep him so well in hand that you may be quite\nconfident.\"\n\nThey made answer: \"Very well!\"\n\nThen they entered the town, and passed on until they met knights and\nladies and charming damsels coming down the street, who salute him and\nwait to remove his armor as they say: \"Welcome to our midst, fair sire!\nAnd may God grant that you tarry here until you may leave with great\nhonor and satisfaction!\"\n\nHigh and low alike extend to him a glad welcome, and do all they can\nfor him, as they joyfully escort him into the town. But after they had\nexpressed their gladness they are overwhelmed by grief, which makes\nthem quickly forget their joy, as they begin to lament and weep and\nbeat themselves. Thus, for a long space of time, they cease not to\nrejoice or make lament: it is to honor their guest that they rejoice,\nbut their heart is not in what they do, for they are greatly worried\nover an event which they expect to take place on the following day, and\nthey feel very sure and certain that it will come to pass before midday.\n\nMy lord Yvain was so surprised that they so often changed their mood,\nand mingled grief with their happiness, that he addressed the lord of\nthe place on the subject. \"For God's sake,\" he said, \"fair gentle sir,\nwill you kindly inform me why you have thus honored me, and shown at\nonce such joy and such heaviness?\"\n\n\"Yes, if you desire to know, but it would be better for you to desire\nignorance and silence. I will never tell you willingly anything to\ncause you grief. Allow us to continue to lament, and do you pay no\nattention to what we do!\"\n\n\"It would be quite impossible for me to see you sad and not take it\nupon my heart, so I desire to know the truth, whatever chagrin may\nresult to me.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" he said, \"I will tell you all. I have suffered much from\na giant, who has insisted that I should give him my daughter, who\nsurpasses in beauty all the maidens in the world. This evil giant,\nwhom may God confound, is named Harpin of the Mountain. Not a day\npasses without his taking all of my possessions upon which he can lay\nhis hands. No one has a better right than I to complain, and to be\nsorrowful, and to make lament. I might well lose my senses from very\ngrief, for I had six sons who were knights, fairer than any I knew in\nthe world, and the giant has taken all six of them. Before my eyes he\nkilled two of them, and to-morrow he will kill the other four, unless\nI find someone who will dare to fight him for the deliverance of my\nsons, or unless I consent to surrender my daughter to him. That is the\ndisaster which awaits me to-morrow, unless the Lord God grant me His\naid. So it is no wonder, fair sir, if we are all in tears. But for your\nsake we strive for the moment to assume as cheerful a countenance as we\ncan. For he is a fool who attracts a gentleman to his presence and then\ndoes not honor him; and you seem to be a very perfect gentleman. Now I\nhave told you the entire story of our great distress. Neither in town\nnor in fortress has the giant left us anything, except what we have\nhere. If you had noticed, you must have seen this evening that he has\nnot left us so much as an egg, except these walls which are new; for he\nhas razed the entire town. When he had plundered all he wished, he set\nfire to what remained. In this way he has done me many an evil turn.\"\n\nMy lord Yvain listened to all that his host told him, and when he\nhad heard it all he was pleased to answer him: \"Sire, I am sorry and\ndistressed about this trouble of yours; but I marvel greatly that you\nhave not asked assistance at good King Arthur's court. There is no man\nso mighty that he could not find at his court some who would be glad to\ntry their strength with his.\"\n\nThen the wealthy man reveals and explains to him that he would have had\nefficient help if he had known where to find my lord Gawain. \"He would\nnot have failed me upon this occasion, for my wife is his own sister;\nbut a knight from a strange land, who went to court to seek the King's\nwife, has led her away. However, he could not have gotten possession\nof her by any means of his own invention, had it not been for Kay, who\nso befooled the King that he gave the Queen into his charge and placed\nher under his protection. He was a fool, and she imprudent to entrust\nherself to his escort. And I am the one who suffers and loses in all\nthis! for it is certain that my excellent lord Gawain would have made\nhaste to come here, had he known the facts, for the sake of his nephews\nand his niece. But he knows nothing of it, wherefore I am so distressed\nthat my heart is almost breaking, for he is gone in pursuit of him, to\nwhom may God bring shame and woe for having led the Queen away.\"\n\nWhile listening to this recital my lord Yvain does not cease to sigh.\nInspired by the pity which he feels, he makes this reply: \"Fair gentle\nsire, I would gladly undertake this perilous adventure, if the giant\nand your sons should arrive to-morrow in time to cause me no delay,\nfor to-morrow at noon I shall be somewhere else, in accordance with a\npromise I have made.\"\n\n\"Once for all, fair sire,\" the good man said, \"I thank you a hundred\nthousand times for your willingness.\" And all the people of the house\nlikewise expressed their gratitude.\n\nJust then the damsel came out of a room, with her graceful body and her\nface so fair and pleasing to look upon. She was very simple and sad\nand quiet as she came, for there was no end to the grief she felt: she\nwalked with her head bowed to the ground. And her mother, too, came in\nfrom an adjoining room, for the gentleman had sent for them to meet his\nguest.\n\nThey entered with their mantles wrapped about them to conceal their\ntears, and he bid them throw back their mantles, and hold up their\nheads, saying: \"You ought not to hesitate to obey my behests, for God\nand good fortune have given here a very well-born gentleman who assures\nme that he will fight against the giant. Delay no longer now to throw\nyourselves at his feet!\"\n\n\"May God never let me see that!\" my lord Yvain hastens to exclaim;\n\"surely it would not be proper under any circumstances for the sister\nand the niece of my lord Gawain to prostrate themselves at my feet.\nMay God defend me from ever giving place to such pride as to let\nthem fall at my feet! Indeed, I should never forget the shame which I\nshould feel; but I should be very glad if they would take comfort until\nto-morrow, when they may see whether God will consent to aid them. I\nhave no other request to make, except that the giant may come in such\ngood time that I be not compelled to break my engagement elsewhere;\nfor I would not fail for anything to be present to-morrow noon at the\ngreatest business I could ever undertake.\"\n\nThus he is unwilling to reassure them completely, for he fears that\nthe giant may not come early enough to allow him to reach in time the\ndamsel who is imprisoned in the chapel. Nevertheless, he promises them\nenough to arouse good hope in them. They all alike join in thanking\nhim, for they place great confidence in his prowess, and they think\nhe must be a very good man, when they see the lion by his side as\nconfident as a lamb would be. They take comfort and rejoice because of\nthe hope they stake on him, and they indulge their grief no more.\n\nWhen the time came they led him off to bed in a brightly lighted room;\nboth the damsel and her mother escorted him, for they prized him\ndearly, and would have done so a hundred thousand times more had they\nbeen informed of his prowess and courtesy.\n\nHe and the lion together lay down there and took their rest. The others\ndared not sleep in the room; but they closed the door so tight that\nthey could not come out until the next day at dawn.\n\nWhen the room was thrown open, he got up and heard Mass, and then,\nbecause of the promise he had made, he waited until the hour of prime.\nThen in the hearing of all he summoned the lord of the town and said:\n\"My lord, I have no more time to wait, but must ask your permission\nto leave at once; I cannot tarry longer here. But believe truly that\nI would gladly and willingly stay here yet awhile for the sake of the\nnephews and the niece of my beloved lord Gawain, if I did not have a\ngreat business on hand, and if it were not so far away.\"\n\nAt this the damsel's blood quivered and boiled with fear, as well as\nthe lady's and the lord's. They were so afraid he would go away that\nthey were on the point of humbling themselves and casting themselves at\nhis feet, when they recalled that he would not approve or permit their\naction.\n\nThen the lord makes him an offer of all he will take of his lands or\nwealth, if only he will wait a little longer.\n\nAnd he replied: \"God forbid that ever I should take anything of yours!\"\n\nThen the damsel, who is in dismay, begins to weep aloud, and beseeches\nhim to stay. Like one distracted and a prey to dread, she begs him\nby the glorious queen of heaven and of the angels, and by the Lord,\nnot to go, but to wait a little while; and then too, for her uncle's\nsake, whom he says he knows, and loves, and esteems. Then his heart\nis touched with deep pity when he hears her adjuring him in the name\nof him whom he loves the most, and by the mistress of heaven, and by\nthe Lord, who is the very honey and sweet savour of pity. Filled with\nanguish he heaved a sigh, for were the kingdom of Tarsus at stake he\nwould not see her burned to whom he had pledged his aid. If he could\nnot reach her in time, he would be unable to endure his life, or would\nlive on without his wits; on the other hand, the kindness of his\nfriend, my lord Gawain, only increased his distress: his heart almost\nbursts in half at the thought that he cannot delay.\n\nNevertheless, he does not stir, but delays and waits so long that the\ngiant came suddenly, bringing with him the knights; and hanging from\nhis neck he carried a big square stake with a pointed end, and with\nthis he frequently spurred them on. For their part they had no clothing\non that was worth a straw, except some soiled and filthy shirts; and\ntheir feet and hands were bound with cords, as they came riding upon\nfour limping jades, which were weak and thin, and miserable. As they\ncame riding along beside a wood, a dwarf, who was puffed up like a\ntoad, had tied the horses' tails together, and walked beside them,\nbeating them remorselessly with a four-knotted scourge until they bled,\nthinking thereby to be doing something wonderful.\n\nThus they were brought along in shame by the giant and the dwarf.\nStopping in the plain in front of the city gate, the giant shouts out\nto the noble lord that he will kill his sons unless he delivers to him\nhis daughter.\n\nThe worthy man is well-nigh beside himself. His agony is like that of\none who would rather be dead than alive. Again and again he bemoans\nhis fate, and weeps aloud and sighs.\n\nThen my frank and gentle lord Yvain thus began to speak to him: \"Sire,\nvery vile and impudent is that giant who vaunts himself out there. But\nmay God never grant that he should have your daughter in his power! He\ndespises her and insults her openly. Give me now my arms and horse!\nHave the drawbridge lowered, and let me pass. One or the other must be\ncast down, either I or he, I know not which. If I could only humiliate\nthe cruel wretch who is thus oppressing you, so that he would release\nyour sons and should come and make amends for the insulting words he\nhas spoken to you, then I would commend you to God and go about my\nbusiness.\"\n\nThen they go to get his horse, and hand over to him his arms, striving\nso expeditiously that they soon have him quite equipped. They delayed\nas little as they could in arming him. When his equipment was complete,\nthere remained nothing but to lower the bridge and let him go. They\nlowered it for him, and he went out. But the lion would by no means\nstay behind.\n\nAll those who were left behind commended the knight to the Saviour, for\nthey fear exceedingly lest their devilish enemy, who already had slain\nso many good men on the same field before their eyes, would do the same\nwith him. So they pray God to defend him from death, and return him to\nthem safe and sound, and that He may give him strength to slay the\ngiant. Each one softly prays to God in accordance with his wish.\n\nAnd the giant fiercely came at him, and with threatening words thus\nspake to him: \"By my eyes, the man who sent thee here surely had no\nlove for thee! No better way could he have taken to avenge himself on\nthee. He has chosen well his vengeance for whatever wrong thou hast\ndone to him.\"\n\nBut the other, fearing naught, replies: \"Thou treatest of what matters\nnot. Now do thy best and I'll do mine. Idle parley wearies me.\"\n\nThereupon my lord Yvain, who was anxious to depart, rides at him. He\ngoes to strike him on the breast, which was protected by a bear's skin,\nand the giant runs at him with his stake raised in air.\n\nMy lord Yvain deals him such a blow upon the chest that he thrusts\nthrough the skin and wets the tip of his lance in his body's blood by\nway of sauce. And the giant belabors him with the stake, and makes him\nbend beneath the blows. My lord Yvain then draws the sword with which\nhe knew how to deal fierce blows. He found the giant unprotected, for\nhe trusted in his strength so much that he disdained to arm himself.\nAnd he who had drawn his blade gave him such a slash with the cutting\nedge and not with the flat side, that he cut from his cheek a slice fit\nto roast. Then the other in turn gave him such a blow with the stake\nthat it made him sink in a heap upon his horse's neck.\n\nThereupon the lion bristles up, ready to lend his master aid, and leaps\nup in his anger and strength, and strikes and tears like so much bark\nthe heavy bearskin the giant wore, and he tore away beneath the skin a\nlarge piece of his thigh, together with the nerves and flesh. The giant\nescaped his clutches, roaring and bellowing like a bull, for the lion\nhad badly wounded him. Then raising his stake in both hands, he thought\nto strike him, but missed his aim, when the lion leaped backward so he\nmissed his blow, and fell exhausted beside my lord Yvain, but without\neither of them touching the other. Then my lord Yvain took aim and\nlanded two blows on him. Before he could recover himself he had severed\nwith the edge of his sword the giant's shoulder from his body.\n\nWith the next blow he ran the whole blade of his sword through his\nliver beneath his chest: the giant falls in death's embrace. And if a\ngreat oak tree should fall, I think it would make no greater noise than\nthe giant made when he tumbled down. All those who were on the wall\nwould fain have witnessed such a blow.\n\nThen it became evident who was the most fleet of foot, for all ran to\nsee the game, just like hounds which have followed the beast until\nthey finally come up with him. So men and women in rivalry ran forward\nwithout delay to where the giant lay face downward. The daughter comes\nrunning, and her mother, too. And the four brothers rejoice after the\nwoes they have endured.\n\nAs for my lord Yvain they are very sure that they could not detain him\nfor any reason they might allege; but they beseech him to return and\nstay to enjoy himself as soon as he shall have completed the business\nwhich calls him away. And he replies that he cannot promise them\nanything, for as yet he cannot guess whether it will fare well or ill\nwith him. But thus much did he say to his host: that he wished that\nhis four sons and his daughter should take the dwarf and go to my lord\nGawain when they hear of his return, and should tell and relate to him\nhow he has conducted himself. For kind actions are of no use if you are\nnot willing that they be known.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTHE TURKE AND GAWAIN\n\n\nA terrible brood of giants once lived on the Isle of Man--as anyone\nin western England could have told you a hundred years ago, or five\nhundred for that matter. To-day this island of Mona in the Irish Sea\nproduces nothing stranger than Manx tail-less cats and a hard-headed\nrace of people who cling most obstinately to their old Norse and\nCeltic customs, with \"deemsters\" to judge them and a Legislature and\nLieutenant-governor of their own for their 20,000 inhabitants.\n\nBut away back in the days of great King Arthur it was common knowledge\nthat a horde of giants had driven out the first fairy population of the\nisland, and, after ruling many generations in the usual discourteous\nfashion of giants, had been themselves overpowered by the mighty\nenchanter Merlin, and lay spell-bound forever in vast subterranean\nchambers beneath their ancient palace.\n\nAnd if you have any doubts about this, and find it difficult to\nverify the tale by consulting a Manxman (or better still an aged\nManxwoman)--why you need only turn to \"The History and Description of\nthe Isle of Man,\" wherein Mr. Waldron only seventy years ago related\nall the facts as to \"Curious and Authentick Relations of Apparitions\nof Giants that have lived under the castle from time immemorial.\nLikewise many comical and entertaining stories of the pranks played by\nfairies, &c.\"\n\nHe himself saw beneath Douglas Fort the \"very strong and secret\napartment underground, having no passage to it but a hole, which is\ncovered with a large stone, and is called to this day 'The great\nman's chamber.'\" Also many wise ones told him how several venturesome\nspirits who ventured down to the subterranean chambers at Castleton,\nand not one of them ever returned to give an account of what he had\nundoubtedly seen--except one foolhardy individual, full of \"Dutch\ncourage,\" who risked the attempt in spite of the grisly fate of his\npredecessors. This lucky person related upon his return that, after\ntraversing interminable black passages, he at last reached a light and\na magnificent dwelling, in which lay a monster fourteen feet long and\nten or eleven feet around--whereat, like a wise and prudent man, he\nretraced his steps without further investigation.\n\nAnd there is more vivid testimony than this. Probably five or six\ncenturies back an unknown minstrel made a ballad telling all about this\ngiant brood and what befell the valiant Sir Gawain upon his adventure\ninto that dread island.\n\nA few portions of this ballad are lost (they were used to light the\nfires by the maids in Humphrey Pitt's house in Shropshire, where\nBishop Percy, about 1760, found the old 17th century manuscript book\ncontaining it!) But the course of the tale is plain, and the romance\nstands here essentially as it was written down about 1650, having been\npassed on orally for hundreds of years before that.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nListen, lords great and small, what adventures did befall in England,\nwhere hath been the knights that held the Round Table, doughty warriors\nand keen.\n\nAll England both east and west, lords and ladies of the best, they\nbusked them and made them bowne, and as King Arthur sate in his\nseat,--lords served him at his meat,--there came a man into the hall.\nHe was not tall, but he was broad, made like a turke (a dwarf) in his\nlegs and thighs. Said he:\n\n\"Is there any will, as a brother, give me a buffet and take another--if\nany be so hardy?\"\n\nThen spoke that crabbed knight, Sir Kay:\n\n\"Man, thou seemest not so strong in wit if thou be not adread, for\nthere are knights within this hall will fell thee to the ground with\none buffet. Be thou never so stalwart of hand, I dare safely sweare I\nshall bring thee to the ground.\"\n\nThen spake that worthy knight Sir Gawain:\n\n\"Cousin Kay, thou speakest unworthily, and rude is thy answer. If this\nman wants wit, small honor to thee if thou shouldst kill him.\"\n\nThe dwarf answered threateningly: \"Come on, the better of you two,\nthough ye be fierce as any wild boar.\"\n\nWith that Gawain rose and smote him, but not with his full strength,\nlest he slay him outright. But to his surprise the dwarf did not go\ndown before his blow but withstood it. Then the dwarf looked upon him\nmenacingly and said:\n\n\"Be sure that when the time comes this buffet thou hast given me\nshall be well quitted. But before that thou must go with me on an\nadventure--and I shall make thee thrice as afraid as ever man was on\nthis middle earth ere thou see this court again.\"\n\n\"I plight my troth,\" said Gawain. \"I dare go with thee and never fly.\nNever will I flee from an adventure, be it jousting or any other\ntournament.\"\n\nThe dwarf took leave of the crowned King, and Sir Gawain made ready\nhis armor and steed. They rode northwards two days and more. By then\nSir Gawain was sore hungered and had great need of meat and drink. The\ndwarf knew he needed food and spoke rough words to him, holding his\nhead high:\n\n\"Gawain, where is all thy plenty? The other day thou wast served\nwith dainties and gave no part to me, but bruised me with a buffet:\ntherefore thou shalt have mickle care and shalt see adventures. I only\nwould I had here King Arthur and many of thy fellows in brotherhood\nthat are wont to strive for mastery.\"\n\nHe led Sir Gawain to a high hill. Suddenly the earth opened and closed\nagain, and Gawain began to dread; the murk came down and the light\ndisappeared; and a storm of snow and rain, with thunder and lightning,\nbroke upon them.\n\nSir Gawain sighed heavily. \"Such weather,\" said he, \"saw I never\nbefore, in no place that I have ever been.\"\n\nThe dwarf paid no attention and led him on for a long journey, till at\nlast they came in sight of a noble castle standing close beside the\nsea. \"We shall go in,\" said the guide, \"but take heed that if thou\nseest anyone within, thou speak not to man nor woman. Yea, even if they\naddress thee, on thy peril see thou makest them no answer but only unto\nme.\"\n\nSo they rode up to the castle and Sir Gawain lighted off his horse.\nThe dwarf, being on foot already, led him through the gates. Here they\nfound chamber, bower and hall, with rich railings and most seemly to\nlook upon. In the hall a board was spread with all manner of meat and\ndrink for any grooms that might win thither. Sir Gawain would have\nfallen to that fare, but the dwarf bade him leave it alone on his peril\nso that he waxed anxious.\n\nSaid Gawain: \"Man, I marvel that thou mayst spare none of these\nvictuals when there is such great plenty here. Yet do I marvel more, by\nmy fay, that I see neither man nor man, woman nor child. I had liever\nnow be free to eat my fill of this fair meat than to have all the gold\nin Christendom.\"\n\nAt that the dwarf went forth and immediately returned, bringing meat\nand drink of the finest.\n\n\"Eat, Gawain,\" said he, \"and refresh thy spirit. In faith thou shalt\nlabor and sweat ere thou get more food.\"\n\nWhen the knight had drunk ale and wine, he said: \"I will, without boast\nor threat, be ready at thy bidding. Yet I would pray thee rather to\ngive me my buffet and let me go my way for I would not longer be in\nthis place.\"\n\nThe dwarf reminded him of his plighted word, presently, and led him\nwithout again. There lay a boat by the shore; and, obeying his guide,\nSir Gawain turned loose his charger. Indeed there was naught else he\ncould do.\n\n\"I plight my troth to thee,\" said the dwarf, \"he shall be here when\nthou comest again.\"\n\nThey sailed across the water for the space of an hour, when there\nappeared before them an island whereon stood a fair castle whose like\nthe knight had ne'er beheld.\n\nSaid the dwarf: \"Gawain, we have come thus far without scathe; but\nnow cometh the performance of thine oath. In yonder castle dwells the\nKing of Man. He is a soldan of heathenesse, and he hath with him such\na hideous rout of giants as one might not match did he seek far and\nnear as wide as the world. Many adventures are before you; and doubt\nnot that we shall be assailed before we win hence again. But an ye take\ngood heed to me I shall help ye in need; and I trow there is none so\nstrong in stoure that he shall gainsay us.\"\n\nThey landed and came into the great hall, where sat the King of Man,\ngrim and terrible.\n\n\"Ah, Sir Gawain, stiff and stoure,\" said he, \"how fareth thine uncle\nKing Arthur? And that bishop, Sir Bodwine, that will not let my goods\nalone but spiteth them every day? He preaches much of a crown of\nthorns; but an ever I catch him he shall think such a crown but play.\nSit down at my board, sir knight.\"\n\n\"Nay, that may not be,\" said Sir Gawain. \"I trow a venturous knight\nshall sit down in no king's hall ere he have assayed adventures.\"\n\n\"Fair may it fall ye then, Gawain,\" said the King. \"Go, fetch me forth\nmy tennis ball,\" quoth he to those who stood near, \"for I will see this\nknight play.\"\n\nSo they brought in a huge ball, all of brass; and behind it came a\nhideous company of giants. They were seventeen in number, and the least\nof them was half as tall again as the knight.\n\nGawain looked on these monstrous creatures who laughed and showed their\nfoul teeth in pleasure at the prospect of dashing out his brains in\nthe course of this strange game. Then he looked at the ball of brass,\nand knew there was no man in all England able to so much as carry it,\nmuch less play at hand-ball with it as was proposed. And in his heart\nhe began to feel great fear that he was here presently to be shamed and\nslain. Just then the dwarf spoke privily in his ear.\n\nTo the grim King the knight said: \"This is too easy a play for a proven\nknight. This boy of mine will play for you.\"\n\nThen one of the giants struck the great heavy ball; and the dwarf\nstruck it back so mightily that it flew clean out of the hall door and\nout of sight.\n\n\"Of a truth, that is a strong boy you have,\" said the King. \"Now let us\ntry at casting the axletree.\"\n\nSo they brought forth a monstrous axletree such as only one of the\ngiants could so much as lift. The tallest of the giants made a cast\nfrom the other end of the hall, so that the tremendous mass crashed\ndown before the feet of the knight and his companion. Gawain made a\nsign; whereat the dwarf picked up the huge axletree and hurled it so\nshrewdly that it thrust through one of the giants, and he fell down\nwith grisly groaning.\n\n\"Take away the axletree,\" said the King. \"Such a boy saw I never\nbefore; yet, as I may thrive, he shall be better assayed ere he go.\nThis third adventure is the last before me at this time.\"\n\nAll turned toward a monstrous brazier which stood in the hall, within\nwhose great iron bars there blazed coals and wood.\n\n\"Gawain,\" said a giant, \"do you begin the play. A great giant lifted\nup this brazier and set it down fairly with one hand. When you have\nessayed it, one of us shall answer you.\"\n\nSir Gawain was never so disturbed since he was a man on middle earth.\nThen he bethought him and turned to the dwarf.\n\n\"Lift this brazier, boy,\" said he, \"that is so worthily wrought.\"\n\nAt that the dwarf sprang forward, and seized the huge knobs of the iron\nbrazier which rose far above his head. Then he lifted it clear and\nswung it thrice about his head, that the coals and red brands flew out\nover the hall floor, and they had much ado to put out the fire.\n\nThe King waxed wroth and he bade them lay hands on the knight; and\nbefore he could draw his sword they had disarmed him and bound him\nfast. The King had him taken aside and spoke to him privily.\n\n\"Ah, Gawain,\" said the King, \"evil was the day for thee that thou\ncamest hither. Full many a knight, mickle of might and strong in\nbattle, hath come before thee, and all of them I have slain through my\nmastery. Never went there away one to tell the tale. Nor shalt thou go,\nfell though thou beest, nor none that belongeth to King Arthur.\"\n\nThe dwarf had drawn on a cloak of invisible gray and followed them,\nhimself unseen in this weed. He heard all this, and followed still when\nthe King led Gawain into a fast dungeon where stood a great caldron\nof boiling lead. The molten lead bubbled and spattered; and before it\nstood a loathly giant with an iron pronged fork in his hand. The giant\nlooked eagerly upon the captive knight.\n\nThe King said to his monster: \"Here are none but we two: do what is\nbest.\"\n\nBut at that instant the dwarf discovered himself in his weed of\ninvisible gray; and at the sight the giant cried out in fear.\n\nThe dwarf leaped upon him, gripped him mightily about the waist, and\ncast him all as he was into the caldron of molten lead, holding him\ndown with the prings till he was scalded to death.\n\nSir Gawain turned to the King: \"But thou agreest to be baptized, thine\nhour is come.\"\n\nThe King in anger spat upon him; and the dwarf seized him and hurled\nhim into the fire to perish. Then he said to Sir Gawain:\n\n\"Master, the peril is past. Yet let us not tarry to complete this\nadventure.\"\n\nSo they went through the castle and slew all that foul company except\nsuch as were willing to become Christian men. And they found there vast\ntreasure of gold and silver. Then the dwarf brought a golden basin, fit\nfor an emperor, and a well-tempered sword, and fell on his knees before\nGawain, and said:\n\n\"If ever I did aught for thee, take this keen sword and strike off my\nhead.\"\n\n\"Now God forfend!\" exclaimed Gawain. \"Not for all the red gold would I\nhave thee slain.\"\n\n\"Have done, my master. I have no dread. In this basin let me bleed and\nthou shalt see a new play.\"\n\nSorrowfully, Gawain took the brand, and with one blow he smote off his\nhead. And when the blood fell into the golden basin, the dwarf stood up\nin his own guise of a stalwart knight. Sir Gromer he was hight.\n\n\"Blessed be thou, Sir Gawain. Well hast thou quitted me for my aid.\"\n\nThen they went throughout the castle and released many a captive knight\nand lady who had been held there in dolour. And after they had feasted\nthey crossed the ocean water and returned to King Arthur's court, where\nthere was great joy of the seventeen bright ladies thus restored.\n\nSir Gromer, the former dwarf, went down upon his knee before Arthur:\n\n\"Sir King, an it please you, crown Gawain King of Man.\"\n\nBut Gawain kneeled beside him and said: \"Nay, lord, not I; give it to\nhim, for he won it.\"\n\nThen said Arthur: \"Take thou the kingdom, Sir Gromer; for I see that\nGawain will never consent.\"\n\nAnd it was so.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nAMADIS AMONG THE GIANTS\n\n\nKing Lisuarte of Great Britain was at table; the cloths were removed,\nand Galaor, Florestan and Agrayes were about him. These were among his\nforemost knights, but they grieved for the absence of their brother and\nkinsman, the incomparable Amadis of Gaul; he, for love and worship of\nthe peerless Oriana, the King's daughter, had long wandered about in\ndisguise, performing such exploits as made the whole world ring with\nhis renown. Sometime he was known as the Child of the Sea, later as\nthe Knight of the Green Sword, and at this time he went by the name\nof Beltenebros, or the Fair Mystery. And among his deeds had been the\nslaying of King Abies of Ireland, whose limbs were as those of a giant,\nand who numbered among his allies many astonishing fierce giants.\n\nThen there came a strange knight into the palace, all armed except his\nhead and his hands, and with him two squires, and he carried in his\nhand a letter sealed with five seals, which on his knees he presented\nto the king, saying:\n\n\"Let this be read, and then I will say for what I am come.\"\n\nLisuarte perceived that it was a letter of credence and bade him speak\nhis errand.\n\nThen said the knight: \"King, I defy thee on the part of Famongomadan,\nthe Giant of the Boiling Lake; Cartadaque, his nephew, giant of the\nDefended Mountain; Madanfabul, his marriage-brother, the giant of\nthe Vermillion Tower; and for Quadragante, brother of King Abies of\nIreland, and Arcalaus the Enchanter:\n\n\"They tell thee that thy death, and the death of all who call\nthemselves thine is in their hands, for they are coming against thee on\nKing Cildadan's side. Howbeit, if thou wilt give thy daughter Oriana\nto Madasima, the fair daughter of Famongomadan, to be her damsel and\nservant, they will not injure thee, nor be thine enemies, but will give\nher in marriage when it is time, to Basogante, Madasima's brother, who\ndoth well deserve to be lord of her and thy land.\n\n\"Therefore, King, look to thy choice! Such peace or such war.\"\n\nLisuarte smiled when he began to reply, as one who set at naught\nthe defiance. \"Knight,\" said he, \"better is a dangerous war than\na dishonorable peace: a bad account should I render to Him who\nhath placed me in this high rank, if for lack of heart I should so\nshamefully debase it. Tell them I would rather choose war with them all\nthe days of my life, and death in that war at last, than consent to the\npeace they offer. Tell me where I may send a knight to carry them this\nanswer.\"\n\n\"They may be found,\" replied the embassador, \"in the Boiling Lake,\nwhich is in the Isle of Mongaza.\"\n\nSo it was done, and a knight of King Lisuarte's carried them his reply\ndefying them to the utmost.\n\nNow Amadis was at a nunnery, being but barely recovered of severe\nwounds. He sent Enil, his squire for the time, to the next town to get\narms made for him, a green shield with as many golden lions as it could\nhold, and to buy him a horse, and a sword and breastplate, the best he\ncould find. For he purposed to ride to Millaflores to see Oriana, the\nlady of all his thoughts.\n\nIn twenty days all was ready, as he had ordered it; and at the end of\nthat time arrived Durin, who brought word from her who was called the\none without a peer. Then he walked apart with Durin, and heard the\nmessage of Oriana, and also how his brethren were to be in the battle\nagainst Cildadan and the giants, and of the defiance that Famongomadan\nhad sent, and how he demanded Oriana to be serving-damsel to his\ndaughter, till he should give her in marriage to his son. When he heard\nthis, his flesh shook with exceeding anger, and he resolved in himself,\nso soon as he had seen his lady, to undertake no adventure till he had\nfound Famongomadan, and fought with him a combat to the utterance for\nwhat he had dared propose.\n\nThat night Amadis, still going by the name of Beltenebros even to his\ncompanion, took leave of the nuns, and early the next day, armed in his\ngreen armor, he set forth, and Enil with him carrying his shield and\nhelmet and lance. The day was clear, and he feeling himself in his\nstrength and once more in arms, began to manage his horse so skilfully\nthat Enil said to him:\n\n\"I know not, sir, what the strength of your heart may be, but I never\nsaw a knight appear so well in arms.\"\n\n\"The worth,\" quoth Amadis, \"lies in a good heart, not in a good\nappearance. Happy dole hath he whom God has gifted with both. You have\njudged the one, judge the other as you shall see it deserves when put\nto proof.\"\n\nSeven days they travelled without adventure, and Amadis, as he drew\nnearer, wore his helmet that he might not be known. On the eighth, as\nthey were passing the foot of a mountain, they met a knight upon a\nlarge bay horse, so huge in stature that he appeared to be a giant, and\ntwo squires carrying his arms.\n\nHe cried out with a loud voice to Amadis: \"Stop, sir knight, till you\nhave told me what I want to know.\"\n\nAmadis looked at the stranger's shield, and seeing there golden flowers\nin a field azure, he knew it was Don Quadragante, brother to King Abies\nof Ireland and his own deadly foe. Yet, remembering Famongomadan, he\nwould willingly now have avoided battle; as also, because he was on his\nway to Oriana, and feared lest the great prowess of this knight should\ncause him some delay. Howbeit he stopt, and bade Enil give him his\narms, if they were wanted.\n\n\"God protect you!\" quoth Enil. \"He looks to me more like a devil than a\nknight.\"\n\n\"He is no devil,\" said Amadis, \"but a right good knight, of whom I have\nheard heretofore.\"\n\nBy this time Quadragante was come up, and said to him: \"Knight, you\nmust tell me if you belong to the household of King Lisuarte.\"\n\n\"Why ask you?\"\n\n\"Because I have defied him and all his household, and kill all of them\nwhom I meet.\"\n\nAmadis felt his anger rising, and replied: \"You are one of those who\nhath challenged him?\"\n\n\"I am; and I am he who will do to him and his all the evil in my power.\"\n\n\"And who are you?\"\n\n\"My name is Don Quadragante; and I am brother to that King Abies who\nwas foully slain by an unknown knight of Lisuarte's.\"\n\n\"Certes, Don Quadragante, notwithstanding your high lineage and your\ngreat prowess in arms, this is great folly in you to defy the best king\nin the world. They who undertake more than they can effect are rather\nrash than hardy. I am not this king's vassal, nor am I of his land,\nbut for his goodness my heart is disposed to serve him, so that I may\naccount myself among those whom you have defied; if you chuse battle\nwith me, you may have it; if not, go your way.\"\n\n\"I believe, knight,\" said Quadragante, \"you speak thus boldly because\nyou know me so little; pray you, tell me your name.\"\n\n\"They call me Beltenebros: you will know me by it no better than\nbefore, for it is a name of no renown; but, though I am of a far land,\nI have heard that you are seeking Amadis of Gaul, and, by what I hear\nof him, it is no loss to you that you cannot find him.\"\n\n\"What!\" quoth Quadragante. \"Do you prize him, whom I hate so much,\nabove me? Know that your death-hour is arrived. Take thy arms and\ndefend thyself if thou canst.\"\n\n\"I might do it with some doubt against others, but can have none in\nopposing thee, who art so full of pride and threats.\"\n\nThen they ran their course; both felt the shock: the horse of Amadis\nreeled, and he himself was wounded at the nipple of the breast.\nQuadragante was unhorsed and hurt in the ribs. He rose and ran at\nAmadis, who did not see him, for he was adjusting his helmet, and\nmortally stabbed his horse. Amadis leaped off and went against him\nsword in hand in great anger.\n\n\"There was no courage in this,\" he cried. \"Your own horse was strong\nenough to have finished the battle without this villainy.\"\n\nThe blows fell as thick and loud as though ten knights had been in\ncombat, for both put forth all their strength and skill, and the fight\nlasted from the hour of tierce till vespers; but then Quadragante,\novercome with fatigue and with a blow that Amadis gave him on the\nhelmet, fell down senseless.\n\nAmadis took off his helmet to see if he were dead; the air revived him;\nhe placed the sword-point at his face, saying:\n\n\"Remember thy soul, for thou art a dead man.\"\n\n\"Ah, Beltenebros,\" cried he, \"for God's sake let me live, for my soul's\nsake.\"\n\n\"Yield thyself vanquished then, and promise to fulfill what I command.\"\n\n\"I will fulfill your will to save my life,\" said Quadragante, \"but\nthere is no reason wherefore I should confess myself vanquished: he is\nnot vanquished who in his defence hath shown no fear, doing his utmost\ntill strength and breath fail him and he falls; but he who does not do\nwhat he could have done, for lack of heart.\"\n\n\"You say well,\" said Amadis, \"and I like much what I have heard from\nyou; give me your hand and your promise then.\" And he called the squire\nto witness it:\n\n\"You shall go forthwith to the court of King Lisuarte, and remain there\ntill Amadis arrives, and then you shall pardon him for the death of\nyour brother, King Abies; for they by their own will fought in lists\ntogether, and such revenge, even among those of meaner degree, ought\nnot to be pursued. However, you shall make null the defiance against\nKing Lisuarte, and not take arms against those in his service.\"\n\nAll this did Quadragante promise against his will and in the fear of\ndeath. He then ordered his squires to make a litter and remove him; and\nAmadis, mounting the bay horse of his antagonist, gave his arms to Enil\nand departed.\n\nFour damsels, who were hawking with a merlin, had seen the battle, and\nthey now came up and requested the unknown would go to their castle,\nwhere he should be honorably welcomed, for the good will which he had\nmanifested to King Lisuarte. He thankfully accepted their hospitality,\nbeing sore wearied with the struggle, and accompanied them. They found\nno other wound than that upon his breast, which bled much; howbeit in\nthree days he departed.\n\nOn the second day at noon, from a hill top he beheld the city of\nLondon, and, to the right thereof, the castle of Miraflores, where his\nlady Oriana then abode. Here he stood awhile, gazing and devising how\nhe might despatch Enil.\n\nPresently he was taunted by a company of knights to joust with them,\nand at last he rode against them and overthrew all ten, one after\nanother.\n\nThen came he, being athirst, to the Fountain of the Three Channels, and\ntarried there awhile, discoursing with some damsels who were on their\nway to the court, and determining to fix upon this as a meeting place\nwith Enil after he had been to his lady.\n\nWhile they were talking, there came along the road a waggon drawn by\ntwelve palfreys, and on it were two dwarfs who drove. There were many\nknights in chains in the waggon, and their shields were hanging at\nthe side, and many damsels and girls among them weeping and lamenting\nloudly.\n\nBefore it went a giant, so great that he was fearful to behold; he rode\na huge black horse, and he was armed with plates of steel, and his\nhelmet shone bright, and in his hand he had a boar spear, whose point\nwas a full arm's-length long. Behind the waggon was another giant, who\nappeared more huge and terrible than the first.\n\nThe damsels with Amadis seeing them were greatly terrified, and hid\nthemselves among the trees. Presently the giant who rode foremost\nturned to the dwarfs and cried:\n\n\"I will cut you into a thousand pieces if you suffer these girls to\nshed their own blood, for I mean to do sacrifice with it to my God,\nwhom I adore.\"\n\nWhen Amadis heard this he knew it was Famongomadan, for he had a custom\nto sacrifice damsels to an idol in the Boiling Lake, by whose advice\nand words he was guided in everything. At this time Amadis did not wish\nto encounter him, because he hoped shortly to be with Oriana, and also\nbecause his joust with the ten knights had wearied him; but he knew the\nknights in the waggon, and saw that Princess Leonoreta and her damsels\nwere there, for Famongomadan, who always took his waggon with him to\ncarry away all he could find, had seized them in their tents.\n\nImmediately he mounted, and called to Enil for his arms. But Enil said:\n\n\"Let those devils pass by first.\"\n\n\"Give me!\" quoth Amadis. \"I shall try God's mercy before they pass, to\nsee if I can redress this villainy.\"\n\n\"O, sir,\" cried the squire, \"why have you so little compassion on your\nyouth? If the best twenty knights of King Lisuarte's court were here,\nthey would not venture to attack them.\"\n\n\"Care thou not for that,\" replied his master. \"If I let them pass\nwithout doing my best I should be unworthy to appear among gallant men:\nyou shall behold my fortune.\"\n\nEnil gave him his arms, weeping, and Amadis then descended the sloping\nground to meet them. He looked toward Miraflores as he went, and said:\n\n\"O Oriana, my lady, never did I attempt adventure confiding in my own\ncourage, but in you: my gentle lady, assist me now, in this great need.\"\n\nHe felt his full strength now, and all fear was gone, and he cried out\nto the dwarfs to stop.\n\nWhen the foremost giant, Famongomadan, heard him, he came towards him\nwith such rage that smoke came through the vizor of his helmet, and he\nshook his boar spear so forcefully that its ends almost met.\n\n\"Unhappy wretch!\" cried he. \"Who gave thee boldness enough to dare\nappear before me?\"\n\n\"That Lord,\" quoth Amadis, \"whom thou hast offended, who will give me\nstrength today to break thy pride.\"\n\n\"Come on! Come on!\" cried the giant. \"And see if his power can protect\nthee from mine.\"\n\nAmadis fitted the lance under his arm, and ran against him full speed:\nhe smote him below the waist with such exceeding force that the spear\nburst through the plates of steel, and ran through him, even so as to\nstrike the saddle behind, that the girths broke and he fell with the\nsaddle, the broken lance remaining in him. His boar spear had taken\neffect upon the horse of Amadis and mortally wounded him. The knight\nleaped off and drew his sword.\n\nFamongomadan rose up so enraged that fire came from him, and he plucked\nthe lance from his wound, and threw it at Amadis so violently that if\nthe shield had not protected his helmet, it would have driven him to\nthe ground; but his own bowels came out with the weapon, and he fell,\ncrying:\n\n\"Help, Basagante! I am slain.\"\n\nAt this the other giant came up as fast as his horse could carry him:\nhe had a steel axe in his hand, and with this he thought to have cut\nhis enemy in two; but Amadis avoided the blow, and at the same time\nstruck the giant's horse; the stroke fell short, but the tip of his\nsword cut through the stirrup-leather, and cut the leg also half\nthrough.\n\nThe giant in his fury did not feel the wound, though he missed the\nstirrup: he turned and raised his axe again. Amadis had taken the\nshield from his neck, and was holding it by the throngs: the axe fell\non it and sank in and drove it from his hands to the ground. He had\nmade another stroke; the sword wounded Basagante's arm, and, glancing\nbelow upon the plates of fine steel, broke, so that only the handle\nremained in his hand.\n\nNot for this was he a whit dismayed; he saw the giant could not pluck\nhis axe from the shield, and he ran and caught it by the handle also.\nBoth struggled for the weapon; it was on that side where the stirrup\nhad been cut away, so that Basagante lost his balance: the horse\nstarted and he fell; and Amadis got the battle-axe.\n\nThe giant drew his sword in vast fury, and would have run at the\nknight, but the nerves of his leg were cut through; he fell upon one\nknee, and Amadis smote him on the helmet, that the laces burst and it\nfell off. He, seeing his enemy so near, thought with his sword, which\nwas very long, to smite off his head; the blow was aimed too high, it\ncut off the whole crown of the helmet, and cut away the hair with it.\nAmadis drew back; the helmet fell over his head upon his shoulders,\nand Leonoreta and the damsels, who were on their knees in the waggon\npraying to God to deliver them, tore their hair and began to shriek and\ncall upon the Virgin, thinking he was surely slain. He himself put up\nhis hand to feel if he were wounded to death, but feeling no harm made\nagain at the giant, whose sword falling upon a stone in the last blow\nhad broken.\n\nBasagante's heart failed him now; he made one stroke more and cut the\nknight slightly in the leg with the broken sword; but Amadis let drive\nthe battle-axe at his head: it cut away the ear and the cheek and the\njaw, and Basagante fell, writhing in the agony of death.\n\nAt this time Famongomadan had taken off his helmet, and was holding\nhis hands upon his wound to check the blood. When he saw his son slain\nhe began to blaspheme God and His mother Holy Mary, saying that he\ndid not so much grieve to die as that he could not now destroy their\nmonasteries and churches, because they had suffered him and his son to\nbe conquered by one knight.\n\nAmadis was then upon his knees returning thanks to God when he heard\nthe blasphemer, and he exclaimed:\n\n\"Accursed of God and of His blessed mother! Now shalt thou suffer for\nthy cruelties. Pray to thine idol that, as thou hast shed so much blood\nbefore him, he may stop this blood of thine from flowing out with thy\nlife.\"\n\nThe giant continued to curse God and his saints. Then Amadis plucked\nthe boar spear from the horse's body, and thrust it into the mouth of\nFamongomadan, and nailed him backward to the earth.\n\nHe then put on Basagante's helmet that he might not be known, and\nmounting the other's horse rode up to the waggon and broke the chains\nof all who were prisoners therein. And he besought them to take the\nbodies of the giants to King Lisuarte, and say they were sent him by a\nstrange knight called Beltenebros; and he begged the princess to permit\nhim to take the black horse of Famongomadan, because it was a strong\nand handsome horse, and he would ride him in the battle against King\nCildadan.\n\nThe bodies of the giants were so huge that they were obliged to bend\ntheir knees to lay them in the waggon.\n\nLeonoreta and her damsels made garlands for their heads, and being\nright joyful for their deliverance, entered London singing in triumph.\nMuch was King Lisuarte astonished at their adventure, and the more for\nQuadragante had already presented himself on the part of Beltenebros,\nof whom nothing else was known.\n\n\"I would he were among us,\" said the King. \"I would not lose him for\nanything that he could ask and I could grant.\"\n\nAs for the further exploits of Amadis; and how, by the side of his\nbrethren and the king, he conquered all those island giants in pitched\nbattle; and how he slew the unspeakable monstrous offspring of the\ngiant of Devil's Island that was called the Endriago; and how he and\nthe peerless Oriana, in whom all beauty was centered, proved in the\nFirm Island those final adventures of the Arch of True Lovers and of\nthe Forbidden Chamber;--are not these and many things beside written in\nthe Portuguese chronicler's tale of _Amadis of Gaul_? And was this not\none of the only three romances spared by the good Curate when he purged\nDon Quixote's library with fire--for that forsooth it was the best of\nall the romances?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nGOGMAGOG\n\n\nAfter the Trojan War, \u00c6neas, fleeing from the desolation of the city,\ncame with Ascanius by ship unto Italy. There, for that \u00c6neas was\nworshipfully received by King Latinus, Turnus, King of the Rutulians,\ndid wax envious and made war against him. When they met in battle,\n\u00c6neas had the upper hand, and after that Turnus was slain, obtained\nthe kingdom of Italy and Lavinia the daughter of Latinus. Later, when\nhis own last day had come, Ascanius, now king in his stead, founded\nAlba on Tiber, and begat a son whose name was Silvius. Silvius, unknown\nto his father, had fallen in love with and privily taken to wife a\ncertain niece of Lavinia, who was about to become a mother. When this\ncame to the knowledge of his father Ascanius, he commanded his wizards\nto discover whether the damsel should be brought to bed of a boy or a\ngirl. When they had made sure of the matter by art magic, they told\nhim that the child would be a boy that should slay his father and his\nmother, and after much travel in many lands, should, albeit an exile,\nbe exalted unto the highest honors. Nor were the wizards out in their\nforecast, for when the day came that she should be delivered of a\nchild, the mother bare a son, but herself died in his birth.\n\nHowbeit, the child was given in charge unto a nurse, and was named\nBrute.\n\nAt last, after thrice five years had gone by, the lad, bearing his\nfather company out a-hunting, slew him by striking him unwittingly\nwith an arrow. For when the verderers drave the deer in front of them,\nBrute thinking to take aim at them, smote his own father under the\nbreast. Upon the death of his father he was driven out of Italy, his\nkinsfolk being wroth with him for having wrought a deed so dreadful.\nHe went therefore as an exile into Greece, and there he met with the\ndescendants of Helenus, son of Priam, then held in bondage by the\nGreeks. Freeing these countrymen by a sudden attack on the Greek\nstronghold, and capturing Pandrasus himself, the valiant adventurer\npresently sailed away with the king's daughter for a wife, and a ransom\nof over three hundred ships laden with treasure and provisions.\n\nThey ran on together for two days and a night with a fair current of\nwind, and drew to land at a certain island called Leogecia, which had\nbeen uninhabited ever since it was laid waste by pirates in the days of\nold. Howbeit, Brute sent three hundred men inland to discover by whom\nit might be inhabited. Who, finding not a soul, slew such venison of\ndivers kinds as they found in the glades and the forests.\n\nThey came, moreover, to a certain deserted city, wherein they found a\ntemple of Diana. Now in this temple was an image of the goddess, that\ngave responses, if haply it were asked of any votary that there did\nworship.\n\nAt last they returned to their ships, laden with the venison they\nhad found, and report to their comrades the lie of the land and the\nsituation of the city, bearing the Duke on land that he make repair\nunto the temple, and after making offerings of propitiation, inquire\nof the deity of the place what land she would grant them as a fixed\nabiding place. By the common consent of all, therefore, Brute took with\nhim Gerion the augur, and twelve of the elders, and sought out the\ntemple, bringing with them everything necessary for making sacrifice.\nWhen they arrived, they surrounded their brows with garlands, and set\nup three altars according to immemorial wont, before the holy place,\nto the three Gods, Jove, to wit, and Mercury, as well as to Diana, and\nmade unto each his own special libation. Brute himself, holding in his\nright hand a vessel full of sacrificial wine and the blood of a white\nhind before the altar of the goddess, with face upturned towards her\nimage, broke silence in these words:--\n\n    Goddess and forest Queen, the wild boar's terror,\n    Thou who the maze of heaven or nether mansions\n    Walkest at will, vouchsafe they rede to earthward!\n    Tell me what lands thy will it is we dwell in?\n    What sure abode? Lo, there to Thee for ever\n    Temples I vow, and chant of holy maidens!\n\nAfter he had nine times repeated this, he walked four times round the\naltar, poured forth the wine he held upon the hearth of offering, laid\nhim down upon the fell of a hind that he had stretched in front of the\naltar, and after invoking slumber fell on sleep. For as at that time it\nwas the third hour of the night, wherein are mortals visited by the\nsweetest sleep. Then it seemed him the goddess stood there before him,\nand spake unto him on this wise:--\n\n    Brute,--past the realms of Gaul, beneath the sunset\n    Lieth an Island, girt about by ocean,\n    Guarded by ocean--erst the haunt of giants,\n    Desert of late, and meet for this thy people.\n    Seek it! For there is thine abode for ever.\n    There by thy sons again shall Troy be builded;\n    There of thy blood shall Kings be born, hereafter\n    Sovran in every land the wide world over.\n\nOn awakening from such a vision, the Duke remained in doubt whether it\nwere a dream that he had seen, or whether it were the living goddess\nherself who had thus foretold the land whereunto he should go. At last\nhe called his companions and related unto them from first to last all\nthat had befallen him in his sleep. They thereupon were filled with\nexceeding great joy, and advise that they should at once turn back to\ntheir ships, and while the wind is still blowing fair, should get under\nway as quickly as possible full sail for the West in search of that\nland which the goddess had promised.\n\nNor did they tarry. They rejoin their comrades and launch out into the\ndeep, and after ploughing the waves for a run of thirty days, made the\ncoast of Africa, still not knowing in which direction to steer their\nships. Then came they to the Altars of the Phileni, and the place of\nthe Salt-pans, steering from thence betwixt Ruscicada and the mountains\nAzarae, where they encountered sore peril from an attack by pirates.\nNatheless, they won the victory, and went on their way enriched by the\nspoil and plunder they had taken.\n\nFrom thence, passing the mouth of the river Malva, they arrived in\nMauritania, where lack of food and drink compelled them to disembark,\nand dividing themselves into companies, they harried the whole region\nfrom end to end. When they had revictualled their ships, they made\nsail for the Columns of Hercules, where they saw many of the monsters\nof the deep called Sirens, which surrounded the ships and well-nigh\noverwhelmed them. Howbeit, they made shift to escape, and came to the\nTyrrhene sea, where they found nigh the shore four generations born\nof the exiles from Troy, who had borne Antenor company in his flight.\nTheir Duke was called Corineus, a sober-minded man and excellent in\ncounsel, mighty in body, valiance, and hardiness, insomuch as that\nif it were he had to deal with a giant in single combat he would\nstraightway overthrow him as though he were wrestling with a lad.\nAccordingly, when they knew the ancient stock whereof he was born,\nthey took him into their company, as well as the people whereof he was\nchieftain, that in after-days were called Cornishmen after the name of\ntheir Duke. He it was that in all encounters was more help to Brute\nthan were any of the others.\n\nThen came they to Aquitaine, and entering into the mouth of the Loire,\ncast anchor there. Here they abode seven days and explored the lie of\nthe land. Goffarius Pictus then ruled in Aquitaine, and was King of\nthe country, who, hearing the rumour of a foreign folk that had come\nwith a great fleet and had landed within the frontier of his dominions,\nsent envoys to make inquiry whether they demanded peace or war?\n\nWhile the legates were on their way to the fleet, they met Corineus who\nhad just landed with two hundred men to hunt for venison in the forest.\nThereupon they accost him, and ask him by whose leave he hath thus\ntrespassed into the King's forest to slay his deer? And when Corineus\nmade them answer, that in such a matter no leave nor license whatever\ncould be held as needful, one of their number, Imbert by name, rushed\nforward, and drawing his bow, aimed an arrow at him. Corineus avoided\nthe arrow, and ran in upon Imbert as fast as he might, and with the bow\nthat he carried all-to-brake his head in pieces. Thereupon the rest\nfled, just making shift to escape his hands, and reported the death of\ntheir fellow to Goffarius.\n\nThe Duke of the Poitevins, taking the matter sorely to heart, forthwith\nassembled a mighty host to take vengeance upon them for the death of\nhis messenger. Brute, hearing tidings of his coming, set guards over\nhis ships, bidding the women and children remain on board while he\nhimself along with the whole flower of his army marcheth forth to meet\nthe enemy.\n\nWhen the engagement at last began, the fighting is fierce on both\nsides, and after they had spent a great part of the day in battling,\nCorineus thought it shame that the Aquitanians should hold their\nground so stoutly, and the Trojans not be able to press forward to\nthe victory. So taking heart afresh, he called his own men apart to\nthe right of the battle, and forming them in rank made a rapid charge\nupon the enemy; and when, with his men in close order, he had broken\nthe front ranks, he never stinted striking down the enemy till he had\ncut his way right through the battalion, and forced them all to flee.\nGood luck had supplied the place of a sword he lost with a battle-axe,\nwherewith he cleft in twain any that came next him from the crown of\nthe head right down to the girdle-stead.\n\nBrute marvels; his comrades and even the enemy marvel at the hardihood\nand valour of the man, who, brandishing his battle-axe among the flying\nhost, added not a little terror by shouting, \"Whither fly ye, cowards?\nWhither fly ye, cravens? Turn back, I tell ye, turn, and do battle with\nCorineus! Shame upon ye! So many thousands as are ye, do ye flee before\nmy single arm? Flee then! and take with ye at least this comfort in\nyour flight, that it is I who am after ye, I who ere now have so oft\nbeen wont to drive the Tyrrhene giants in flight before me, and to hurl\nthem to hell by threes and fours at a time!\"\n\nAt these words of his a certain earl named Subardus with three hundred\nmen turned back and charged down upon him. But Corineus, in raising\nhis shield to ward the blow, forgot not the battle-axe he held in\nhis hand. Lifting it overhead, he smote him a buffet upon the top of\nhis helmet that cleft him right through into two halves. After this,\nhe straightway rusheth in amongst the rest, whirling his axe, and\na passing furious slaughter he maketh. Hurrying hither and thither,\nhe avoideth receiving a single stroke, but never resteth a moment\nfrom smiting down his enemies. Of one he loppeth off hand and arm, of\nanother he cleaveth the shoulders from the body, of another he striketh\noff the head at a single blow, of another he severeth the legs from the\nthigh. All dash headlong upon him only; he dasheth headlong in upon\nthem all.\n\nBrute, who beholdeth all this, glowing with love of the man, hurrieth\nforward with a company to succour him. Then ariseth a mighty shouting\nbetwixt the two peoples--the strokes are redoubled, and passing bloody\nis the slaughter on the one side and the other.\n\nBut it endureth not long. The Trojans win the day, and drive King\nGoffarius and his Poitevins in flight before them. Goffarius, escaping\nby the skin of his teeth, betook him into the parts of Gaul to have\nsuccour of his kinsfolk and acquaintance. At that time twelve kings\nthere were in Gaul, each of equal rank, under whose dominion the whole\ncountry was ruled. They all received him kindly, and with one accord\ndid pledge them to drive out from the frontiers of Aquitaine this\nforeign folk that had arrived there.\n\nBrute, overjoyed at the said victory, enricheth his comrades with the\nspoils of the slain, and after again forming the ranks in companies, he\nleadeth his host inland with the intention of sacking the whole country\nand loading his ships with the countless treasure. Accordingly, he\nburneth the cities in all directions, fire after fire, and ransacketh\ntheir hidden hoards; even the fields were laid waste, and citizen and\ncountryman alike and subjected to a piteous slaughter, his aim being\nto exterminate the unhappy race to the last man. But after that he had\nthus visited with bloodshed well-nigh the whole of Aquitaine, he came\ninto the place where now standeth the city of Tours, which, as Homer\nbeareth witness, he afterwards himself builded. Finding, after diligent\nsurvey that the place was convenient as a refuge, he there decided to\npitch his camp, so that if need were he could betake him thereinto. For\nsore misgiving had he by reason of the arrival of Goffarius, who had\nmarched into the neighborhood along with the Kings and Princes of Gaul\nand a mighty host of armed warriors to do battle against him. When his\ncamp was fully finished, he awaited Goffarius for two days therein,\nconfident alike in his own prudence and in the hardihood of the young\nmen whereof he was the chieftain.\n\nNow, when Goffarius heard of the Trojans being there, he advanced by\nforced marches day and night until he came well within sight of Brute's\ncamp. Gazing grimly thereon, yet somewhat smiling withal, he burst\nforth into these words:\n\n\"Alas! what grievous destiny is here? Have these ignoble exiles pitched\ntheir camp within dominions of mine? To arms, ye warriors, to arms! and\ncharge through their serried ranks! Right soon may we take captive this\nherd of half-men like sheep and hold them in bondage throughout our\nrealm.\"\n\nForthwith, all they that he had brought with him leapt to arms, and\nmarched upon their enemies ranked in twelve battalions. But not\nafter any woman wise did Brute range his men and march to meet them.\nPrudently instructing his troops as to what they were to do, how to\nadvance and in what order to hold their ground, he gives the word to\ncharge.\n\nAt the first onset, the Trojans for a time had the upper hand, and\nfearful was the slaughter they made of the enemy, for nigh two thousand\nof them fell, and the rest were so daunted at the sight that they all\nbut turned to flee. But where the numbers of men are the greater, there\nthe more often doth victory abide. In this case, therefore, the Gauls,\nalbeit that at first they were beaten back, yet being thrice so many as\ntheir enemies, made shift to form themselves again in rank and charged\nin again on every side against the Trojans, whom they compelled after\nmuch bloodshed to take refuge in the camp.\n\nHaving thus obtained the victory, they beleaguered them within the\ncamp, never thinking but that before they departed thence the besieged\nwould either offer their necks to the fetters, or suffer a cruel and\nlingering death from the pangs of hunger.\n\nIn the meanwhile, on the night following, Corineus entered into counsel\nwith Brute, and agreed with him that he would issue forth of the\ncamp that same night by certain byways, and would lie hidden in the\nneighboring forest until daybreak. And when Brute, issuing forth just\nbefore dawn, should be engaged in battle with the enemy, he himself\nwith his company should attack them in the rear, and charging in upon\nthem put them to the sword. Brute applauded this device of Corineus,\nwho, cautiously issuing forth as he had proposed with three thousand\nmen, betook him to the depths of the forest.\n\nAccordingly, when the morrow morning began to break, Brute ordained\nhis men in companies, and opening the gates of the camp, marched forth\nto battle. The Gauls straightway set themselves to oppose him, and\ndisposing their troops in battle array came to close quarters with him.\nMany thousands of men are at once cut down on both sides, and many are\nthe wounds given and received, for not a man spareth his adversary.\n\nIt chanced that a certain Trojan was there present named Turonus, a\nnephew of Brute's, than whom there was none more valiant and hardy\nsave only Corineus himself. He with his single sword slew no less than\nsix hundred men. Unhappily he was slain before his time by a sudden\nonslaught of the Gauls; and the foresaid city of Tours acquired the\nname thereof by reason of his being there buried.\n\nAnd while the troops on both sides were in the very thickest of the\nbattle, Corineus came upon them of a sudden and charged the enemy at\nthe double in the rear. Straightway the others, pressing forward from\nthe front, renew the attack more hotly and strain them to the utmost\nto complete the slaughter. The Gauls were aghast with dismay even at\nthe very shout of the Cornishmen as they charged in on the rear, and\nthinking that they were more in number than they were, fled, hot foot,\nfrom the field. The Trojans are on their heels hewing them down in\npursuit, nor cease they to follow them up until the victory is their\nown.\n\nBrute, nevertheless, albeit he were right glad at heart to have\nachieved so signal a triumph, was sore grieved by anxiety on one\naccount, for he saw that, whilst his own numbers were minished daily,\nthose of the Gauls were daily multiplied. Wherefore, seeing it was\ndoubtful whether he could any longer hold out against them, he chose\nrather to retire to his ships while the greater part of his army was\nstill whole and the glory of the victory still fresh, and to set sail\nin quest of the island which the divine monition had prophesied should\nbe his own. Nor was there any tarriance. With the assent of his men,\nhe returned to his fleet, and after loading his ships with all the\ntreasures and luxuries he had acquired, he re-embarked, and with a\nprosperous wind sought out the promised island, where he landed at last\nin safety at Totnes.\n\nAt that time the name of the island was Albion, and of none was it\ninhabited save only of a few giants. Natheless the pleasant aspect of\nthe land, with the abundance of fish in the rivers and deer in the\nchoice forests thereof did fill Brute and his companions with no small\ndesire that they should dwell therein. Wherefore, after exploring\ncertain districts of the land, they drove the giants they found to take\nrefuge in the caverns of the mountains, and divided the country among\nthem according as the Duke made grant thereof.\n\nThey began to till the fields, and to build them houses in such sort\nthat after a brief space ye might have thought it had been inhabited\nfrom time immemorial. Then, at last, Brute calleth the island Britain,\nand his companions Britons, after his own name, for he was minded that\nhis memory should be perpetuated in the derivation of the name. Whence\nafterward the country speech, which was aforetime called Trojan or\ncrooked Greek, was called British.\n\nBut Corineus called that share of the kingdom which had fallen unto\nhim by lot Cornwall, after the manner of his own name, and the people\nCornishmen, therein following the Duke's example. For albeit that he\nmight have had the choice of a province before all the others that had\ncome thither, yet was he minded rather to have that share of the land\nwhich is now called Cornwall, whether from being, as it is, the _cornu_\nor horn of Britain, or from a corruption of the said name Corineus.\n\nFor naught gave him greater pleasure than to wrestle with the giants,\nof whom was greater plenty there than in any of the provinces that had\nbeen shared amongst his comrades. Among others was a certain hateful\none by name Gogmagog,[228:1] twelve cubits in height, who was of such\nlustihood that when he had once uprooted it, he would wield an oak tree\nas lightly as it were a wand of hazel.\n\n     [228:1] The ancient books of Arabia and Persia are full of\n     marvelous tales of Gog and Magog--Jajiouge and Majiouge, as\n     they are called. These giants they locate in Tartary, and the\n     Caucasian Wall from the Caspian to the Black Sea was supposed\n     to have been built by them of all sorts of metals. In Genesis\n     Magog is the tenth son of Japheth; Gog and Magog are spoken\n     of by Ezekiel; and later Gog and Magog were names of nations.\n\nBrute, having thus got footing in Britain, was preparing to improve the\nsame, when Albion, who had named this island after his own name,--by\nwhich it is sometimes called at this day,--having intelligence\nthereof, raised his whole power, being men of gigantic stature, and\nvast strength, and bearing for their arms huge clubs of knotty oak,\nbattle-axes, whirlbats of iron, and globes full of spikes, fastened to\na long pole by a chain; and with these, he fell upon the invaders on a\ncertain day when Brute was holding high festival to the gods.\n\nA bloody battle was fought, wherein the Trojans were worsted and many\nof them slain, and their whole army was forced to retire.\n\nBrute, hereupon considering the disadvantage between his men and the\ngiants, devised a stratagem to overthrow them, by digging in the night\na very long and deep trench, at the bottom impaling it with sharp\nstakes, and covering it with boughs and rotten hurdles, on which he\ncaused to be laid dried leaves and earth, only leaving some passages,\nwell known to his men by particular marks.\n\nThis being done, he dared the giants to a second battle, which Albion\nreadily accepted; and the fight being begun, after some dispute, Brute\nseemed to retire; whereupon the giants pressed on him with great fury;\nand the Trojans retiring nimbly beyond their trench made a stand, and\nply'd them with a shower of darts and arrows, which manner of fight\nthey were unacquainted with, whereby many of them were slain. However,\nAlbion encouraging his men to come to handy strokes with their enemies,\nthey rushed forward, and the vanguard immediately perished in the\ntrenches; and the Trojans continuing to shoot their arrows very thick,\nthe giants were put to flight, and pursued into Cornwall; where, in\nanother bloody fight, Albion was slain by Brute, fighting hand to hand.\n\nBut his huge brother, Gogmagog, Brute had commanded to be taken alive\nas he was minded to see a wrestling bout betwixt him and Corineus, who\nwas beyond measure keen to match himself against such monsters.\n\nSo Corineus, overjoyed at the prospect, girt himself for the encounter,\nand flinging away his arms, challenged him to a bout at wrestling.\n\nAt the start, on the one side stands Corineus, on the other the giant,\neach hugging the other tight in the shackles of their arms, both making\nthe very air quake with their breathless gasping. It was not long\nbefore Gogmagog, grasping Corineus with all his force, brake him three\nof his ribs, two on the right side and one on the left.\n\nRoused thereby to fury, Corineus gathered up all his strength, heaved\nhim up on his shoulders and ran with his burden as fast as he could for\nthe weight to the seashore nighest at hand. Mounting up to the top of\na high cliff, and disengaging himself, he hurled the deadly monster he\nhad carried on his shoulder into the sea, where, falling on the sharp\nrocks, he was mangled all to pieces and dyed the waves with his blood,\nso that ever thereafter that place from the flinging down of the giant\nhath been known as Lamgoemagot, to wit, \"Gogmagog's Leap,\" and is\ncalled by that name unto this present day.\n\nCorineus tells of his own exploit in the old tragedy of \"Locrine\":\n\n    When first I followed thee and thine brave King,\n    I hazarded my life and dearest blood,\n    To purchase favor at your princely hands,\n    And for the same in dangerous attempts,\n    In sundry conflicts, and in divers broils,\n    I shew'd the courage of my manly mind:\n    For this I combatted with Gathelus,\n    The brother to Goffarius of Gaul;\n    For this I fought with furious Gogmagog,\n    A savage captain of a savage crew;\n    And for these deeds brave, Cornwall I received,\n    A grateful gift given by a grateful King;\n    And for this gift, this life and dearest blood\n    Will Corineus spend for Brutus' sake.\n\nHe does not, however, relate the most wonderful part of the affair,\nwhich comes to us through Fulke Fitz-Warine, an outlawed baron of the\n13th Century. Fulke tells how after Gogmagog was slain, a spirit of the\ndevil entered into his body, and came into these parts, and long held\npossession of the country that never Briton dared to inhabit it. And\nhow afterwards, King Bran, the son of Doneval, caused the ancient city\nof the giants to be rebuilt, repaired the walls, and strengthened the\ngreat fosses, and he became Burgh and Great March. And the devil came\nby night and took away everything that was therein, since which time\nnobody has ever inhabited there.\n\nBut Payn Peverel, a proud and courageous knight, heard this story,\nand determined to brave the demon. The latter appeared, in a fearful\ntempest, under the semblance of Gogmagog; he carried in his hand a\ngreat club, and from his mouth cast fire and smoke, with which the\nwhole town was illuminated. However, devoutly making the sign of the\nCross, the knight attacked him so fiercely with his trusty sword that\nere long the demon cried for mercy,--and disclosed the secret treasures\nof the town, promising Payn that he should be lord of all that soil.\n\nAnother account says that there were two brothers, Gog and Magog,\nwho were taken prisoners by Brute and led in triumph to the place\nwhere London now stands; and when a palace was erected by the side\nof the river Thames, on the present site of Guildhall, these two\ngiants were chained to the palace gates as porters. In memory of which\ntheir effigies, after their deaths, were set up as they now appear in\nGuildhall.\n\nCertain it is that these two colossal figures, the older carrying a\n\"morning star\" (the spiked globe fastened to a long pole by a chain\nwith which horsemen used to demolish their enemies in a _m\u00eal\u00e9e_)\nhave kept \"watch and ward\" over London gates for centuries--and were\nbelieved by thousands of children to descend from their pedestals and\ngo to dinner when St. Paul's clock struck twelve.\n\nIn 1415 victorious Henry V was welcomed into London by a male and\nfemale giant standing at the entrance to the Bridge, the man holding\nan axe and a bunch of keys; a few years later Henry VI was similarly\ngreeted; in 1554, upon the public entry of Phillip and Mary, two great\nimages of giants stood at the bridge, one named Gogmagog the Albion,\none Corineus; and all through the 16th and 17th centuries these mighty\nreminders of the old tale figured in public pageants.\n\nThese figures were made only of wicker-work and pasteboard, put\ntogether with great art and ingenuity; and these two terrible original\ngiants had the honor yearly to grace my Lord Mayor's show, being\ncarried in great triumph in the time of the pageants; and when that\neminent service was over, remounted their old stations in Guildhall,\ntill by reason of their very great age, old time, with the help of a\nnumber of city rats and mice, had eaten up all their entrails. The\ndissolution of the two old, weak, and feeble giants, gave birth to the\ntwo present substantial and majestic giants; who, by order, and at the\nCity charge, were formed and fashioned. Captain Richard Saunders, an\neminent carver in King Street, Cheapside, was their father; who, after\nhe had completely finished, clothed, and armed these, his two sons,\nthey were immediately advanced to their lofty stations in Guildhall,\nwhich they have peacefully enjoyed ever since the year 1708.\n\nFor over two hundred years now these fourteen-foot hollow wooden\nfigures have stood in the Guildhall, one holding his spiked ball, the\nother a halberd. Many a parade have they figured in; many a child has\nbeen frightened by them; many a visitor has wondered at them; but\nfew enough have ever read the tale of Corineus's encounter with the\nterrible original.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe city of Bayeux still has its festival parade with a huge effigy,\ncommemorating the slaying of the terrible Brun the Dane by Robert of\nArgouges; in Douai, huge Gayant with his wife and children parades the\nstreets for three days during the July kermess; Metz, Lille, Dunkirk\nand many Spanish cities, too, have had as an annual feature some such\ncivic commemoration of giants connected with the city's history; and\nhuge Antigonus has a permanent place in the coat-of-arms of Antwerp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nTHE GIANT BEHIND THE WATERFALL\n\n\nThe giants lingered longer in the Far North than elsewhere. About\ntwo hundred years after the death of Charlemagne there was living\nin Iceland a saga hero named Grettir the Strong. He was the most\npowerful man ever known in the north country. More than once he had\novercome dreaded Berserks in their battle fury; on a narrow path on\na cliff face he conquered a huge bear with his naked hands, holding\noff the infuriated beast by the ears till he could topple it over the\nprecipice; but his strength and high spirit brought him great reverses\nand caused him to be an outlaw for much of his troubled life.\n\nDuring his wanderings through the wild unknown regions as a forest man,\nhe spent one winter under the Geitland glacier where the hot springs\nmade a fair grassy valley; and here he was intimate with a giant named\nThorir, whose daughters were glad to see him because not many people\ncame there.\n\nFinding it dull, he resumed his travels, and came into Bardadal. Here\nat Sandhaugar dwelt then Steinvor, a widow with young children. The\nplace had an evil name from a strange happening.\n\nTwo winters before Steinvor had gone as usual to celebrate Yule at\nthe neighboring town of Eyjardalsa, while her husband, Thorsteinn the\nWhite, stayed at home. Men lay down to sleep in the evening, and\nin the night they heard a great noise in the room near the bondi's\n(farmer's) bed. No one dared to get up to see what was the matter,\nbecause there were so few of them. The mistress of the house returned\nhome the next morning, but her husband had disappeared and no one knew\nwhat had become of him. So the next season passed. The following winter\nthe mistress wanted to go to mass, and told her servant to stay at\nhome; he was very unwilling but said she should be obeyed. It happened\njust as before; this time the servant disappeared. People thought it\nvery strange and found some drops of blood upon the outer door, so they\nsupposed that some evil spirit, or troll, must have carried off both\nthe men.\n\nThis story had spread all through the district. It came to the ears of\nGrettir, who being well accustomed to deal with ghosts and spectres\nturned his steps thither and arrived on Yule-eve at Sandhaugar. He was\ndisguised as was now his custom, because his enemy Thorir had set a\nprice on his head, and called himself Gest.\n\nThe lady of the house saw that he was enormously tall, and the servants\nwere terribly afraid of him. He asked for hospitality; the mistress\ntold him that food was ready for him but that he must see after\nhimself. He said he would, and added:\n\n\"I will stay in the house while you go to mass if you would like it.\"\n\nShe said: \"You must be a brave man to venture to stay in this house.\"\n\n\"I do not care for a dull life,\" he said.\n\nThen she said: \"I do not want to remain at home, but I cannot get\nacross the river.\"\n\n\"I will come with you,\" said the pretended Gest. So she made ready to\ngo to mass with her little daughter. It was thawing outside; the river\nwas flooded and was covered with ice.\n\n\"It is impossible for man or horse to cross,\" said Steinvor.\n\n\"There must be fords,\" said Gest. \"Do not be afraid.\"\n\n\"First carry the maiden over; she is lighter.\"\n\n\"I don't want to make two journeys of it,\" said he; \"I will carry you\nin my arms.\"\n\nShe crossed herself and said: \"That is impossible; what will you do\nwith the girl?\"\n\n\"I will find a way,\" said Gest.\n\nTaking them both up, he set the girl on her mother's knee, while he\nbore them both on his left arm, keeping his right arm free.\n\nSo he carried them across. They were too frightened to cry out. The\nriver came up to his breast, and a great piece of ice came against him,\nwhich he pushed off with the hand that was free. Then the stream became\nso deep that it broke over his shoulder, but he waded on vigorously\ntill he reached the other bank and put them on shore.\n\nThe mistress reached Eyjardalsa for mass and everyone wondered how she\nhad crossed the river. She said she did not know whether it was a man\nor a troll who had carried her over. The priest said it was certainly\na man, though unlike other men. \"Let us keep silent over it; may be\nthat he means to help you in your difficulties.\"\n\nShe stayed there that night.\n\nMeanwhile Grettir had waded back. It was nearly dark by the time he\ngot home to Sandhaugar and called for some food. When he had eaten\nsomething he told the servants to go to the other end of the hall. Then\nhe got some boards and loose logs and laid them across the hall to make\na great barricade so that none of the servants could get across. No one\ndared to oppose him or to object to anything. The entrance was in the\nside wall of the hall under the back gable, and near it was a cross\nbench upon which Grettir laid himself, keeping on his clothes, with a\nlight burning in the room. So he lay till into the night.\n\nTowards midnight he heard a loud noise outside, and very soon there\nwalked a huge troll-wife into the room. She carried a trough in one\nhand and a rather large cutlass in the other. She looked around the\nroom as she entered, and on seeing Grettir lying there she rushed at\nhim; he started up and attacked her furiously.\n\nThey fought long together; she was the stronger but he evaded her\nskilfully. Everything near them and the panelling of the back wall were\nbroken to pieces. She dragged him through the hall door out to the\nporch, where he resisted vigorously. The troll-wife wanted to drag him\nout of the house, but before that was done they had broken up all the\nfittings of the outer door and borne them away on their shoulders.\nThen she strove to get to the river and among the rocks. Grettir was\nterribly fatigued, but there was no choice but either to brace himself\nor be dragged down to the rocks.\n\nAll night long they struggled together, and he thought he had never met\nwith such a monster for strength. She gripped him so tightly to herself\nthat he could do nothing with either hand but cling to her waist.\n\nWhen at last they reached a rock by the river he swung the monster\naround and got his right hand loose. Then he quickly seized the\nshort sword he was wearing, drew it, and struck at the troll's right\nshoulder, cutting off her right arm and releasing himself. She sprang\namong the rocks and disappeared in the waterfall. Grettir, very stiff\nand tired, lay long by the rock.\n\nAt daylight he went back to the hall and lay down on his bed, blue and\nswollen all over.\n\nWhen Steinvor came home she found the place all in disorder. She went\nto the stranger and asked him what had happened, and why everything\nwas broken to pieces. He told her the whole adventure, just as it had\nhappened. She thought it a matter of great moment and asked him who\nhe was. He told her the truth, said that he wished to see a priest,\nand asked her to send for one. She did so; Steinn the priest came to\nSandhaugar and soon learnt that it was Grettir, the son of Asmund, who\nhad come there under the name of Gest.\n\nThe priest asked him what he thought had become of Steinvor's husband\nand servant who had disappeared; Grettir said they must have been taken\namong the rocks. The priest said he could not believe that unless he\ngave some evidence of it. Grettir declared that later it would become\nknown, and the priest went home. Grettir lay many days in his bed, and\nthe lady did all she could for him.\n\nHe himself always declared that the troll woman sprang among the rocks\nin the waterfall when she was wounded, but the men of Bardadal have a\ntale that day dawned upon her while they were wrestling, so that when\nhe cut off her arm she lost her powers and is still standing there on\nthe mountain in the likeness of a hideous woman. However that may be,\nthe dwellers in the valley kept Grettir's secret so that he was safe\nfrom his enemies and the blood-feud while he lay helpless.\n\nOne day that winter, after Yule, Grettir went to Eyjardalsa and met\nSteinn, to whom he said:\n\n\"I see, priest, that you have little belief in what I say. Now I wish\nyou to come with me to the river and see for yourself what probability\nthere is in it.\"\n\nThe priest did so. When they reached the falls they saw a cave up under\nthe rocks. The cliff was there so steep that no one could climb it, and\nit was nearly ten fathoms down to the water. They had a rope with them.\n\n\"It is quite impossible for any one to get down there,\" said the priest.\n\nGrettir answered: \"It is certainly possible; and men of high mettle are\nthose who would feel themselves happiest there. I want to see what\nthere is back of the fall. Do you mind the rope.\"\n\nThe priest said he could do so if he chose. He drove a stake into the\nground and laid stones against it.\n\nGrettir now fastened a stone in a loop at the end of the rope, and\nlowered it from above into the water.\n\n\"How do you mean to go?\" asked Steinn.\n\n\"I don't mean to be bound when I come into the fall,\" Grettir said. \"So\nmy mind tells me.\"\n\nThen he prepared to go; he had few clothes on, and only a short sword;\nno other arms. He jumped from a rock and got down to the fall. The\npriest saw the soles of his feet, but after that did not know what had\nbecome of him.\n\nGrettir dived beneath the fall. It was very difficult swimming because\nof the currents, and he had to dive to the bottom to get behind the\npouring wall of water. There was a rock where he came up, and a great\ncave behind the fall in front of which the water streamed down.\n\nHe went into the cave, where there was a large fire burning, and a\nhorrible great giant, most fearful to behold, sitting before it.\n\nAs Grettir entered the giant sprang up, seized a halberd and struck at\nhim, for he could both strike and thrust with it. It had a wooden shaft\nand was of the kind called \"heptis-ax.\" Grettir struck back with his\nsword and cut through the shaft.\n\nThen the giant tried to reach up backwards to a sword which was hanging\nin the cave, and at that moment Grettir struck at him and cut open his\nlower breast and stomach so that all his entrails fell out into the\nriver and floated down the stream.\n\nThe priest, who was sitting by the rope, saw the water all thickened\nand bloody and lost his head, making sure that Grettir was killed.\nHe left the rope and ran off home, where he arrived in the evening\nand told them for certain Grettir was dead, and said it was a great\nmisfortune to have lost such a man.\n\nGrettir struck few more blows at the giant before he was dead. He then\nentered the cave, kindled a light and explored. It is not told how much\ntreasure he found there, but there is said to have been some. He stayed\nthere till late into the night, and found the bones of two men which he\ncarried away in a skin.\n\nThen he came out of the cave, swam to the rope and shook it, thinking\nthe priest was there; finding him gone he had to climb up the rope hand\nover hand, and so reached the top.\n\nHe returned to Eyjardalsa and carried the skin with the bones in it\ninto the vestibule of the church, together with a rune-staff, upon\nwhich were most beautifully carved the following lines:\n\n    Into the fall of the torrent I went;\n    Dank its maw towards me gaped.\n    The floods before the ogress' den\n    Mighty against my shoulder played.\n\nAnd then:\n\n    Hideous the friend of Mella came,\n    Hard were the blows I dealt upon her.\n    The shaft of Heptisax was severed,\n    My sword has pierced the monster's breast.\n\nThere too it was told how Grettir had brought the bones from the cave.\n\nWhen the priest came to the church on the next morning, he found the\nstaff and all that was with it and read the runes. Grettir had returned\nto Sandhaugar.\n\nWhen Steinn met Grettir again he asked him exactly what had happened,\nand Grettir told him. He declared the priest had held the rope very\nfaithlessly, and Steinn admitted that it was true.\n\nMen felt no doubt that these monsters were responsible for the\ndisappearance of Thorsteinn and his servant, nor was there any haunting\nor ghost-walking there afterwards; Grettir had evidently cleared the\nland of them.\n\nThe bones were buried by the priest in the churchyard. Grettir stayed\nthat winter in Bardadal, though unknown to those who sought his blood.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nTHE ONE GOOD GIANT: ST. CHRISTOPHER\n\n\nHearken to the tale in the _Golden Legend_ of the giant Syrian, fair\nof face and spirit, who brought to the faith countless thousands of\nunbelievers before he fell a martyr in the persecution of the Byzantine\nemperor in the third century after Christ's birth. Never before or\nsince did such a flower as this patron saint of all ferrymen spring\nfrom \"the seed of the giant\" that produced Og, King of Bashan, and\nGoliath of Gath.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nChristopher tofore his baptism was named Reprobus, but afterwards he\nwas named Christopher, which is as much to say as bearing Christ, of\nthat that he bare Christ in four manners. He bare him on his shoulders\nby conveying and leading, in his body by making it lean, in mind by\ndevotion, and in his mouth by confession and prediction.\n\nChristopher was of the lineage of the Canaanites, and he was of a right\ngreat stature, and had a terrible and fearful cheer and countenance.\nAnd he was twelve cubits of length, and as it is read in some histories\nthat, when he served and dwelled with the king of Canaan, it came in\nhis mind that he would seek the greatest prince that was in the world;\nand him would he serve and obey.\n\nAnd so far he went that he came to a right great king, of whom the\nrenome generally was that he was the greatest of the world. When the\nking saw him, he received him into his service, and made him to dwell\nin his court.\n\nUpon a time a minstrel sang tofore him a song in which he named oft the\ndevil, and the king, which was a Christian man, when he heard him name\nthe devil, made anon the sign of the cross in his visage.\n\nWhen Christopher saw that, he had great marvel what sign it was, and\nwherefore the king made it, and he demanded of him. And because the\nking would not say, he said:\n\n\"If thou tell me not, I shall no longer dwell with thee.\"\n\nThen the king told to him, saying: \"Alway when I hear the devil named,\nI fear that he should have power over me, and I garnish me with this\nsign that he grieve not ne annoy me.\"\n\nThen Christopher said to him: \"Doubtest thou the devil that he hurt\nthee not? Then is the devil more mighty and greater than thou art. I am\nthen deceived of my hope and purpose, for I had supposed I had found\nthe most mighty and the most greatest Lord of the world, but I commend\nthee to God, for I will seek him for to be my Lord, and I his servant.\"\nAnd then departed from this king, and hasted him for to seek the devil.\n\nAs he went by a great desert, he saw a great company of knights, of\nwhich a knight, cruel and horrible, came to him and demanded whither he\nwent.\n\nChristopher answered to him and said: \"I am he that thou seekest.\" And\nthen Christopher was glad, and bound him to be his servant perpetual,\nand took him for his master and Lord.\n\nAs they went together by a common way, they found there a cross, erect\nand standing. Anon as the devil saw the cross he was afeared and fled,\nand left the right way, and brought Christopher about by a sharp\ndesert. And after, when they were past the cross, he brought him to the\nhighway that they had left. When Christopher saw that, he marvelled,\nand demanded whereof he doubted, and had left the high and fair way,\nand had gone so far about by so aspre a desert. And the devil would not\ntell him in no wise.\n\nThen Christopher said to him: \"If thou wilt not tell me, I shall anon\ndepart from thee, and shall serve thee no more.\"\n\nWherefor the devil was constrained to tell him, and said: \"There was\na man called Christ which was hanged on the cross, and when I see his\nsign I am sore afraid, and flee from it wheresoever I see it.\"\n\nTo whom Christopher said: \"Then he is greater, and more mightier than\nthou, when thou art afraid of his sign; and I see well that I have\nlabored in vain, when I have not founden the greatest Lord of the\nworld. And I will serve thee no longer. Go thy way then, for I will\nseek Christ.\"\n\nAnd when he had long sought and demanded where he should find Christ,\nat last he came into a great desert, to an hermit that dwelt there, and\nthis hermit preached to him Jesus Christ and informed him in the faith\ndiligently, and said to him: \"This king whom thou desirest to serve,\nrequireth the service that thou must oft fast.\"\n\nChristopher said to him: \"Require of me some other thing, and I shall\ndo it, for that which thou requirest I may not do.\"\n\nThe hermit said: \"Thou must then wake and make many prayers.\" And\nChristopher said to him: \"I wot not what it is; I may do no such\nthing.\" And then the hermit said to him: \"Knowest thou such a river, in\nwhich many be perished and lost?\" To whom Christopher said: \"I know it\nwell.\"\n\nThen said the hermit: \"Because thou art noble and high of stature and\nstrong in thy members, thou shalt be resident by that river, and thou\nshalt bear over all them that shall pass there, which shall be a thing\nright convenable to our Lord Jesu Christ whom thou desirest to serve,\nand I hope he shall show himself to thee.\"\n\nSaid Christopher: \"Certes, this service may I well do, and I promise to\nhim for to do it.\"\n\nThen went Christopher to this river, and made there his habitacle for\nhim, and bare a great pole in his hand instead of a staff, by which he\nsustained him in the water, and bare over all manner of people without\nceasing. And there he abode, thus doing, many days.\n\nAnd in a time, as he slept in his lodge, he heard the voice of a child\nwhich called him and said: \"Christopher, come out and bear me over.\"\n\nThen he awoke and went out, but he found no man. And when he was again\nin his house, he heard the same voice and he ran out and found nobody.\n\nThe third time he was called and came thither, and found a child beside\nthe rivage of the river, which prayed him goodly to bear him over the\nwater.\n\nChristopher lift up the child on his shoulders, and took his staff, and\nentered into the river for to pass. And the water of the river arose\nand swelled more and more: and the child was heavy as lead, and alway\nas he went farther, the water increased and grew more, and the child\nmore and more waxed heavy, insomuch that Christopher had great anguish\nand was afeared to be drowned.\n\nWhen he was escaped with great pain, and passed the water, and set the\nchild aground, he said to the child: \"Child, thou hast put me in great\nperil; thou weighest almost as I had all the world upon me. I might\nbear no greater burden.\"\n\nAnd the child answered: \"Christopher, marvel thee nothing, for thou\nhast not only borne all the world upon thee, but thou hast borne him\nthat created and made all the world, upon thy shoulders. I am Jesu\nChrist the king, to whom thou servest in this work. And because that\nthou know that I say to be the truth, set thy staff in the earth by\nthy house, and thou shalt see to morn that it shall bear flowers and\nfruit.\" And anon he vanished from his eyes.\n\nThen Christopher set his staff in the earth, and when he arose on the\nmorn, he found his staff like a palmier bearing flowers, leaves and\ndates.\n\nChristopher went into the city of Lysia, and understood not their\nlanguage. Then he prayed our Lord that he might understand them, and so\nhe did. And as he was in this prayer, the judges supposed that he had\nbeen a fool, and left him there. And then when Christopher understood\nthe language, he covered his visage and went to the place where they\nmartyred Christian men, and comforted them in our Lord. And the judges\nsmote him in the face, and Christopher said to them: \"If I were not\nChristian, I would avenge mine injury.\"\n\nThen Christopher pitched his rod in the earth, and prayed to our Lord\nthat for to convert the people, it might bear flowers and fruit, and\nanon it did so. Here he converted eight thousand men.\n\nThe king sent two knights for to fetch him to the king, and they found\nhim praying, and durst not tell him so. And anon after, the king sent\nas many more, and they anon set them down for to pray with him.\n\nWhen Christopher arose, he said to them: \"What seek ye?\" And when they\nsaw him in the visage, they said to him: \"The king hath sent us, that\nwe should lead thee bound unto him.\"\n\nChristopher said to them: \"If I would, ye should not lead me to him,\nbound ne unbound.\" And they said to him: \"If thou wilt go thy way, go\nquit, where thou wilt. And we shall say to the king that we have not\nfound thee.\"\n\n\"It shall not be so,\" said he, \"but I shall go with you.\"\n\nThen he converted them in the faith, and commanded them that they\nshould bind his hands behind his back, and lead him so bound to the\nking. When the king saw him he was afeared and fell down off the seat,\nand his servants lifted him up and relieved him again.\n\nThe king inquired his name and his country; and Christopher said to\nhim: \"Tofore I was baptized I was named Reprobus, and after, I am\nChristopher; tofore baptism, a Canaanite, now a Christian man.\" To whom\nthe king said: \"Thou hast a foolish name, that is to wit of Christ\ncrucified, which could not help himself. How, therefore, thou cursed\nCanaanite, why wilt thou not do sacrifice to our gods?\"\n\nChristopher said: \"Thou art rightfully called Dagnus, for thou art the\ndeath of the world, and fellow of the devil, and thy gods be made with\nthe hands of men.\"\n\nAnd the king said to him: \"Thou wert nourished among wild beasts, and\ntherefore thou mayest not say but wild language, and words unknown to\nmen. And if thou wilt now do sacrifice to the gods I shall give to thee\ngreat gifts and great honors, and if not, I shall destroy thee and\nconsume thee by great pains and torments.\" But, for all this, he would\nin no wise do sacrifice, wherefore he was sent into prison, and the\nking did behead the other knights that he had sent for him, whom he had\nconverted.\n\nAfter this he sent into the prison to Saint Christopher two fair women,\nof whom that one was named Nic\u00e6a and that other Aquilina, and promised\nto them many great gifts if they could draw Christopher to sin with\nthem. And when Christopher saw that, he set him down in prayer, and\nwhen he was constrained by them that embraced him to move, he arose and\nsaid: \"What seek ye? For what cause be ye come hither?\" And they, which\nwere afraid of his cheer and clearness of his visage, said: \"Holy saint\nof God, have pity on us so that we may believe in that God that thou\npreachest.\"\n\nWhen the king heard that, he commanded that they should be let out and\nbrought before him. To whom he said: \"Ye be deceived, but I swear to\nyou by my gods that, if ye do no sacrifice to my gods, ye shall anon\nperish by evil death.\"\n\nThey said to him: \"If thou wilt that we shall do sacrifice command that\nthe places may be made clean, and that all the people may assemble at\nthe temple.\"\n\nWhen this was done they entered into the temple, and took their\ngirdles, and put them about the necks of their gods, and drew them to\nthe earth, and brake them all in pieces, and said to them that were\nthere: \"Go and call physicians and leeches for to heal your gods.\" And\nthen by the commandment of the king, Aquilina was hanged, and a right\ngreat and heavy stone was hanged at her feet, so that her members were\nmuch despitously broken. And when she was dead, and passed to our Lord,\nher sister Nic\u00e6a was cast into a great fire, but she issued out without\nharm all whole, and then he made to smite off her head, and so she\nsuffered death.\n\nAfter this Christopher was brought tofore the king, and the king\ncommanded that he should be beaten with rods of iron, and that there\nshould be set upon his head a cross of iron red hot and burning; and\nthen after he did make a stool of iron, and made Christopher to be\nbounden thereon, and after, to set fire under it, and cast therein\npitch. But the settle melted like wax, and Christopher issued out\nwithout any harm.\n\nWhen the king saw that, he commanded that he should be bound to a\nstrong stake, and that he should be through-shotten with arrows with\nforty knights archers. But none of the knights might attain him, for\nthe arrows hung in the air about, nigh him, without touching.\n\nThen the king weened that he had been through-shotten with the arrows\nof the knights, and addressed him for to go to him. And one of the\narrows returned suddenly from the air and smote him in the eye, and\nblinded him. To whom Christopher said: \"Tyrant, I shall die to-morn.\nMake a little clay, with my blood tempered, and anoint therewith thine\neye, and thou shalt receive health.\"\n\nThen by the commandment of the king he was led forth to be beheaded,\nand then, there made he his orison, and his head was smitten off, and\nso suffered martyrdom.\n\nThe king then took a little of his blood and laid it on his eye, and\nsaid: \"In the name of God and of St. Christopher!\" and was anon healed.\nThen the king believed in God and gave commandment that if any person\nblamed God or St. Christopher, he should anon be slain with the sword.\n\nThen let us pray to good St. Christopher that he pray for us.\n\n\n\n\nPART III\n\nNURSERY TALES OF MANY LANDS\n\n\n_The time came when men became so sophisticated that they lost faith in\nthe giants, even the work of their own minds. Only the children still\nbelieved._\n\n_In many lands the old people still tell to the simple of heart of all\nages such tales as these that follow._\n\n_For more than two hundred years practically every English-speaking\nchild has read, or been read, the stories of \"Jack the Giant-killer\"\nand \"Jack and the Beanstalk,\" which are full of echoes of Thor's\nadventures among the Frost Giants, and other misty myths of earliest\ntimes. The famous \"Fee, fi, fo, fum,\" speech of the giant seems to come\ndown from a couplet spoken by a giantess of old in the Arabic story of\n\"Sunebal and the Ogress.\"_\n\n_While the present tales are not so well known, they doubtless have a\nsimilarly ancient pedigree. Thus the Serbian tale comes largely from\nthe \"Arabian Nights\"; and it is our old friend Polyphemus from whom the\nKorean seaman escaped._\n\n_Even Gulliver's Travels in the land of Brobdignag has a close parallel\nin faraway Japan: a man of Nagasaki, Shikaiya Was\u014dbi\u014dye by name,\nafter marvelous adventures among the Three Thousand Worlds, comes to\nthe Land of Giants._\n\n_He rides on the back of a stork through total darkness for five\nmonths, and at length reaches a country where the sun shines again,\nwhere weeds are as large as bamboos, trees so great that it is a\njourney to walk round them, and the men some sixty feet in height.\nA giant picks him up and feeds him on single grains of huge rice.\nWhen the traveler tries to question the Tall Man upon the ways of\nhis people, the giant laughs and declares so tiny a person could not\npossibly have intelligence enough to understand such great matters._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE GIANT HAND\n\nIRISH\n\n\nA day Finn and his men were in the Hunting-hill they killed a great\nnumber of deer; and when they were wearied after the chase they sat\ndown on a pleasant green knoll, at the back of the wind and at the face\nof the sun, where they could see every one, and no one at all could see\nthem.\n\nWhile they were sitting in that place Finn lifted his eyes toward the\nsea, and saw a ship making straight for the haven beneath the spot on\nwhich they were sitting. When the ship came on land, a Big Young Hero\nleaped out of her on the shore, seized her by the bows, and drew her\nup, her own seven lengths, on green grass, where the eldest son of\nneither land-owner nor of holder of large town-land dared mock or gibe\nat her. Then he ascended the hillside, leaping over the hollows and\nslanting the knolls, till he reached the spot on which Finn and his men\nwere sitting.\n\nHe saluted Finn frankly, energetically, fluently; and Finn saluted him\nwith the equivalent of the same words. Finn then asked him whence did\nhe come, or what was he wanting? He answered Finn that he had come\nthrough night-watching and tempest of sea where he was; because he was\nlosing his children, and it had been told him that there was not a man\nin the world who could keep his children for him but him, Finn, King of\nthe Feinne. And he said to Finn, \"I lay on thee, as crosses and spells\nand seven fairy fetters of travelling and straying to be with me before\nthou shalt eat food, or drink a draught, or close an eye in sleep.\"\n\nHaving said this, he turned away from them and descended the hillside\nthe way he ascended it. When he reached the ship he placed his shoulder\nagainst the bow, and put her out. He then leaped into her, and departed\nin the direction he came until they lost sight of him.\n\nFinn was now under great heaviness of mind, because the vows had been\nlaid on him, and he must fulfil them or travel onwards until he would\ndie. He knew not whither he should go, or what he should do. But he\nleft farewell with his men, and descended the hillside to the seaside.\nWhen he reached that he could not go farther on the way in which he saw\nthe Big Young Hero depart. He therefore began to walk along the shore,\nbut before he had gone very far forward, he saw a company of seven men\ncoming to meet him.\n\nWhen he reached the men he asked the first of them what was he good at?\nThe man answered that he was a good Carpenter. Finn asked him how good\nwas he at carpentry? The man said that, with three strokes of his ax,\nhe could make a large, capacious, complete ship of the alder stock over\nyonder. \"Thou art good enough,\" said Finn; \"thou mayest pass by.\" He\nthen asked of the second man what was he good at? The man said that he\nwas a good Tracker. \"How good art thou?\" said Finn. \"I can track the\nwild duck over the crests of the nine waves within nine days,\" said the\nman. \"Thou art good enough,\" said Finn; \"thou mayest pass by.\"\n\nThen he said to the third man, \"What art thou good at?\" The man replied\nthat he was a good Gripper. \"How good art thou?\" \"The hold I get I will\nnot let go until my two arms come from my shoulders, or until my hold\ncomes with me.\" \"Thou art good enough; thou mayest pass by.\"\n\nThen he said to the fourth man, \"What art thou good at?\" He answered\nthat he was a good Climber. \"How good art thou?\" \"I can climb on a\nfilament of silk to the stars, although thou wert to tie it there.\"\n\"Thou art good enough; thou mayest pass by.\"\n\nHe then said to the fifth man, \"What art thou good at?\" He answered\nthat he was a good Listener. \"How good art thou?\" He said that he could\nhear what people were saying at the extremity of the Uttermost World.\n\"Thou art good enough; thou mayest pass by.\"\n\nHe asked of the sixth man, \"What art thou good at?\" He replied that he\nwas a good Thief. \"How good art thou?\" \"I can steal the egg from the\nheron while her two eyes are looking at me.\" \"Thou art good enough;\nthou mayest pass by.\"\n\nThen he said to the seventh man, \"What art thou good at?\" He replied\nthat he was a good Marksman. \"How good art thou?\" \"I could hit an egg\nas far away in the sky as bowstring could send or bow could carry.\"\n\"Thou art good enough; thou mayest pass by.\"\n\nAll this gave Finn great encouragement. He turned round and said to\nthe Carpenter, \"Prove thy skill.\" The Carpenter went where the stock\nwas, and struck it with his ax thrice; and as he had said, the ship was\nready.\n\nWhen Finn saw the ship ready he ordered his men to put her out. They\ndid that and went on board of her.\n\nFinn now ordered the Tracker to go to the bow and prove himself. At\nthe same time he told him that yesterday a Big Young Hero left yonder\nhaven in his ship, and that he wanted to follow the Hero to the place\nin which he now was. Finn himself went to steer the ship, and they\ndeparted. The Tracker was telling him to keep her that way or to keep\nher this way. They sailed a long time forward without seeing land,\nbut they kept on their course until the evening was approaching. In\nthe gloaming they noticed that land was ahead of them, and they made\nstraight for it. When they reached the shore they leaped to land, and\ndrew up the ship.\n\nThen they noticed a large fine house in the glen above the beach. They\ntook their way up to the house; and when they were nearing it they saw\nthe Big Young Hero coming to meet them. He ran and placed his two arms\nabout Finn's neck and said, \"Darling of all men in the world, hast thou\ncome?\"\n\n\"If I had been thy darling of all the men in the world, it is not as\nthou didst leave me that thou wouldst have left me,\" said Finn.\n\n\"Oh, it was not without a way of coming I left thee,\" said the Big\nYoung Hero. \"Did I not send a company of seven men to meet thee?\"\n\nWhen they reached the house, the Big Young Hero told Finn and his men\nto go in. They accepted the invitation and found abundance of meat and\ndrink.\n\nAfter they had quenched their hunger and thirst, the Big Young Hero\ncame in where they were, and said to Finn, \"Six years from this night\nmy wife was in child-bed, and a child was born to me. As soon as the\nchild came into the world, a large Hand came in at the chimney, and\ntook the child with it in the hollow of the hand. Three years from\nthis night the same thing happened. And tonight she is going to be in\nchild-bed again. It was told me that thou wert the only man in the\nworld who could keep my children for me, and now I have courage since I\nhave found thee.\"\n\nFinn and his men were tired and sleepy. Finn said to the men that they\nwere to stretch themselves on the floor, and that he was going to keep\nwatch. They did as they were told, and he remained sitting beside the\nfire. At last sleep began to come upon him; but he had a bar of iron\nin the fire, and as often as his eyes would begin to close with sleep,\nhe would thrust the iron through the bone of his palm, and that was\nkeeping him awake. About midnight the woman was delivered; and as soon\nas the child came into the world the Hand came in at the chimney. Finn\ncalled on the Gripper to get up.\n\nThe Gripper sprang quickly on his feet, and laid hold of the Hand. He\ngave a pull on the Hand, and took it in to the eye-brows at the chimney.\n\nThe Hand gave a pull on the Gripper, and took him out to the top of his\ntwo shoulders. The Gripper gave another pull on the Hand, and brought\nit in to the neck. The Hand gave a pull on the Gripper, and brought\nhim out to the very middle. The Gripper gave a pull on the Hand, and\ntook it in over the two armpits. The Hand gave a pull on the Gripper,\nand took him out to the smalls of his two feet. Then the Gripper gave\na brave pull on the Hand and it came out of the shoulder. And when it\nfell on the floor the pulling of seven geldings was in it. But the big\nGiant outside put in the other hand, and took the child with him in the\nhollow of his hand.\n\nThey were all very sorry that they lost the child. But Finn said, \"We\nwill not yield to this yet. I and my men will go away after the Hand\nbefore a sun shall rise on a dwelling tomorrow.\"\n\nAt break of dawn Finn and his men turned out, and reached the beach,\nwhere they had left the ship.\n\nThey launched the ship and leaped on board of her. The Tracker went to\nthe bow, and Finn went to steer her. They departed, and now and again\nthe Tracker would cry to Finn to keep her in that direction, or to\nkeep her in this direction. They sailed onward a long distance without\nseeing anything before them, except the great sea. At the going down\nof the sun, Finn noticed a black spot in the ocean ahead of them. He\nthought it too little for an island, and too large for a bird, but he\nmade straight for it. In the darkening of the night they reached it;\nand it was a rock, and a Castle thatched with eel-skins was on its top.\n\nThey landed on the rock. They looked about the Castle, but they saw\nneither window nor door at which they could get in. At last they\nnoticed that it was on the roof the door was. They did not know how\nthey could get up, because the thatch was so slippery. But the Climber\ncried, \"Let me over, and I will not be long in climbing it.\" He sprang\nquickly towards the Castle, and in an instant was on its roof. He\nlooked in at the door, and after taking particular notice of everything\nthat he saw, he descended where the rest were waiting.\n\nFinn asked of him, what did he see? He said that he saw a Big Giant\nlying on a bed, a silk covering over him and a satin covering under\nhim, and his hand stretched out and an infant asleep in the hollow\nof his hand; that he saw two boys on the floor playing with shinties\n(shinny-sticks) of gold and a ball of silver; and that there was a very\nlarge deer-hound bitch lying beside the fire, and two pups sucking her.\n\nThen said Finn, \"I do not know how we shall get them out.\" The Thief\nanswered and said, \"If I get in I will not be long putting them out.\"\nThe Climber said, \"Come on my back and I will take thee up to the\ndoor.\" The Thief did as he was told, and got into the Castle.\n\nInstantly he began to prove his skill. The first thing he put out was\nthe child that was in the cup of the Hand. He then put out the two boys\nthat were playing on the floor. He then stole the silk covering that\nwas over the Giant, and the satin covering that was under him, and put\nthem out. Then he put out the shinties of gold and the ball of silver.\nHe then stole the two pups that were sucking the bitch beside the fire.\nThese were the most valuable things which he saw inside. He left the\nGiant asleep, and turned out.\n\nThey placed the things which the Thief stole in the ship, and departed.\nThey were but a short time sailing when the Listener stood up and said,\n\"'Tis I who am hearing him, 'tis I who am listening to him.\"\n\n\"What art thou hearing?\" asked Finn.\n\n\"He has just awakened,\" said the Listener, \"and missed everything that\nwas stolen from him. He is in great wrath, sending away the Bitch, and\nsaying to her that if she will not go that he will go himself. But it\nis the Bitch that is going.\"\n\nIn a short time they looked behind them, and saw the Bitch coming\nswimming. She was cleaving the sea on each side of her in red sparks of\nfire. They were seized with fear, and said that they did not know what\nthey should do. But Finn considered, and then told them to throw out\none of the pups; perhaps when she would see the pup drowning she would\nreturn with it. They threw out the pup, and, as Finn said, it happened:\nthe Bitch returned with the pup. This left them at the time pleased.\n\nBut shortly after that the Listener arose trembling, and said, \"'Tis I\nwho am hearing him; 'tis I who am listening to him!\"\n\n\"What art thou saying now?\" said Finn.\n\n\"He is again sending away the Bitch, and since she will not go he is\ncoming himself.\"\n\nWhen they heard this their eye was always behind them. At last they saw\nhim coming, and the great sea reached not beyond his haunches. They\nwere seized with fear and great horror, for they knew not what they\nshould do. But Finn thought of his knowledge-set of teeth, and having\nput his finger under it, found out that the Giant was immortal, except\nin a mole which was in the hollow of his palm. The Marksman then stood\nup and said, \"If I get one look of it I will have him.\"\n\nThe Giant came walking forward through the sea to the side of the ship.\nThen he lifted up his hand to seize the top of the mast, in order to\nsink the ship. But when the Hand was on high the Marksman noticed the\nmole, and he let an arrow off in its direction. The arrow struck the\nGiant in the death-spot, and he fell dead on the sea.\n\nThey were now very happy, for there was nothing more before them to\nmake them afraid. They put about, and sailed back to the castle. The\nThief stole the pup again, and they took it with them along with the\none they had. After that they returned to the place of the Big Young\nHero. When they reached the haven they leaped on land, and drew the\nship up on dry ground.\n\nThen Finn went away with the family of the Big Young Hero and with\neverything which he and his men took out of the Castle to the fine\nhouse of the Big Young Hero.\n\nThe Big Young Hero met him coming, and when he saw his children he went\non his two knees to Finn, and said, \"What now is thy reward?\" Finn\nanswered and said that he was asking nothing but his choice of the two\npups which they took from the Castle. The Big Young Hero said that\nhe would get that and a great deal more if he would ask it. But Finn\nwanted nothing except the pup. This pup was Bran, and his brother, that\nthe Big Young Hero got, was the Grey Dog.\n\nThe Big Young Hero took Finn and his men into his house, and made for\nthem a great, joyous, merry feast, which was kept up for a day and a\nyear, and if the last day was not the best, it was not the worst.\n\nThat is how Finn kept his children for the Big Young Hero of the Ship,\nand how Bran was found.\n\nMany and marvellous were the further deeds of Finn MacCumhal and of his\nincomparable dog Bran; and they are duly recorded in the \"Book of the\nDun Cow,\" and the \"Book of Leinster,\" and \"The Cualnge Cattle-raid,\"\nthat all who will may know of them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTHE GIANT WHO HAD NO HEART IN HIS BODY\n\nNORSE\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a King who had seven sons, and he loved them\nso much that he could never bear to be without them all at once, but\none must be always with him. Now when they were grown up, six were to\nset off to woo, but as for the youngest his father kept him at home,\nand the others were to bring back a princess for him to the palace.\nSo the King gave the six the finest clothes you ever set eyes on, so\nfine that the light gleamed from them a long way off, and each had his\nhorse, which cost many, many hundred dollars, and so they set off. Now,\nwhen they had been to many palaces, and seen many princesses, at last\nthey came to a king who had six daughters; such lovely king's daughters\nthey had never seen, and so they fell to wooing them, each one, and\nwhen they had got them for sweethearts they set off home again, but\nthey quite forgot that they were to bring back with them a sweetheart\nfor Boots, their brother who had stayed at home, for they were over\nhead and ears in love with their own sweethearts.\n\nBut when they had gone a good bit on their way they passed close by a\nsteep hillside, like a wall, where the giant's house was, and there\nthe giant came out, and set his eyes upon them, and turned them all\ninto stone, princes and princesses and all. Now the King waited and\nwaited for his six sons, but the more he waited the longer they stayed\naway; so he fell into great trouble and said he should never know what\nit was to be glad again.\n\n\"And if I had not you left,\" he said to Boots, \"I would live no longer,\nso full of sorrow am I for the loss of your brothers.\"\n\n\"Well, but now I've been thinking to ask your leave to set out and find\nthem again; that's what I've been thinking of,\" said Boots.\n\n\"Nay, nay!\" said his father; \"that leave you shall never get, for then\nyou would stay away, too.\"\n\nBut Boots had set his heart upon it; go he would; and he begged\nand prayed so long that the King was forced to let him go. Now you\nmust know that the King had no other horse to give Boots but an old\nbroken-down jade, for his six other sons and their train had carried\noff all his horses; but Boots did not care a pin for that, he sprang up\non his sorry old steed.\n\n\"Farewell, father,\" said he; \"I'll come back, never fear, and like\nenough I shall bring my six brothers back with me\"; and with that he\nrode off.\n\nSo, when he had ridden a while he came to a Raven, which lay in the\nroad and flapped its wings, and was not able to get out of the way, it\nwas so starved.\n\n\"Oh, dear friend,\" said the Raven, \"give me a little food and I'll help\nyou again at your utmost need.\"\n\n\"I haven't much food,\" said the Prince, \"and I don't see how you'll\never be able to help me much; but still I can spare you a little. I see\nyou want it.\"\n\nSo he gave the Raven some of the food he had brought with him.\n\nNow when he had gone a bit further he came to a brook, and in the brook\nlay a great Salmon, which had got upon a dry place, and dashed itself\nabout, and could not get into the water again.\n\n\"Oh, dear friend,\" said the Salmon to the Prince, \"shove me out into\nthe water again, and I'll help you again at your utmost need.\"\n\n\"Well!\" said the Prince, \"the help you'll give me will not be great,\nI dare say, but it's a pity you should lie there and choke\"; and with\nthat he shot the fish out into the stream again.\n\nAfter that he went a long, long way, and there met him a Wolf, which\nwas so famished that it lay and crawled along the road on its belly.\n\n\"Dear friend, do let me have your horse,\" said the Wolf, \"I'm so hungry\nthe wind whistles through my ribs. I've had nothing to eat these two\nyears.\" \"No,\" said Boots, \"this will never do; first I came to a raven,\nand I was forced to give him my food; next I came to a salmon, and him\nI had to help into the water again; and now you will have my horse. It\ncan't be done, that it can't, for then I should have nothing to ride\non.\"\n\n\"Nay, dear friend, but you can help me,\" said Graylegs the wolf. \"You\ncan ride upon my back, and I'll help you again at your utmost need.\"\n\nSo when the wolf had eaten the horse, Boots took the bit and put it\ninto the wolf's jaw, and laid the saddle on his back; and now the wolf\nwas so strong, after what he had got inside, that he set off with the\nPrince like nothing. So fast he had never ridden before.\n\n\"When we have gone a bit further,\" said Graylegs, \"I'll show you the\nGiant's house.\"\n\nSo after a while they came to it.\n\n\"See, here is the Giant's house,\" said the Wolf; \"and see, here are\nyour six brothers whom the Giant has turned into stone; and see, here\nare their six brides, and away yonder is the door, and in at that door\nyou must go.\"\n\n\"Nay, but I daren't go in,\" said the Prince; \"he'll take my life.\"\n\n\"No! No!\" said the Wolf. \"When you get in you'll find a Princess, and\nshe'll tell you what to do to make an end of the Giant. Only mind and\ndo as she bids you.\"\n\nWell, Boots went in, but, truth to say, he was very much afraid.\nWhen he came in the Giant was away, but in one of the rooms sat the\nPrincess, just as the Wolf had said, and so lovely a Princess Boots had\nnever yet set eyes on.\n\n\"Oh! Heaven help you! whence have you come?\" said the Princess, as she\nsaw him. \"It will surely be your death. No one can make an end of the\nGiant who lives here, for he has no heart in his body.\"\n\n\"Well! Well!\" said Boots; \"but now that I am here, I may as well try\nwhat I can do with him; and I will see if I can't free my brothers, who\nare standing turned to stone out of doors; and you, too, I will try to\nsave, that I will.\"\n\n\"Well, if you must, you must,\" said the Princess; \"and so let us see if\nwe can't hit on a plan. Just creep under the bed yonder, and mind and\nlisten to what he and I talk about. But, pray, do lie still as a mouse.\"\n\nSo he crept under the bed, and he had scarce got well underneath it,\nbefore the Giant came.\n\n\"Ha!\" roared the Giant, \"what a smell of Christian blood there is in\nthe house.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know there is,\" said the Princess, \"for there came a magpie\nflying with a man's bone, and let it fall down the chimney. I made all\nthe haste I could to get it out, but all one can do, the smell doesn't\ngo off so soon.\"\n\nSo the Giant said no more about it, and when night came, they went to\nbed. After they had laid a while the Princess said:\n\n\"There is one thing I'd be so glad to ask you about, if I only dared.\"\n\n\"What thing is that?\" asked the Giant.\n\n\"Only where it is you keep your heart, since you don't carry it about\nwith you,\" said the Princess.\n\n\"Ah! that's a thing you have no business to ask about; but if you must\nknow, it lies under the door-sill,\" said the Giant.\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" said Boots to himself under the bed, \"then we'll soon see if\nwe can't find it.\"\n\nNext morning the Giant got up cruelly early, and strode off to the\nwood; but he was hardly out of the house before Boots and the Princess\nset to work to look under the door-sill for his heart; but the more\nthey dug, and the more they hunted, the more they couldn't find it.\n\n\"He has balked us this time,\" said the Princess, \"but we'll try him\nonce more.\"\n\nSo she picked all the prettiest flowers she could find and strewed them\nover the door-sill, which they had laid in its right place again, and\nwhen the time came for the Giant to come home again, Boots crept under\nthe bed. Just as he was well under, back came the Giant.\n\nSnuff-snuff, went the Giant's nose. \"My eyes and limbs, what a smell of\nChristian blood there is in here,\" said he.\n\n\"I know there is,\" said the Princess, \"for there came a magpie flying\nwith a man's bone in his bill, and let it fall down the chimney. I made\nas much haste as I could to get it out, but I dare say it's that you\nsmell.\"\n\nSo the Giant held his peace and said no more about it. A little while\nafter, he asked who it was that had strewed flowers about the door-sill.\n\n\"Oh, I, of course,\" said the Princess.\n\n\"And, pray, what's the meaning of all this?\" said the Giant.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the Princess, \"I'm so fond of you that I couldn't help\nstrewing them, when I knew that your heart lay under there.\"\n\n\"You don't say so,\" said the Giant; \"but after all it doesn't lie there\nat all.\"\n\nSo when they went to bed again in the evening, the Princess asked the\nGiant again where his heart was, for she said she would so like to know.\n\n\"Well,\" said the Giant, \"if you must know, it lies away yonder in the\ncupboard against the wall.\"\n\n\"So! so!\" thought Boots and the Princess; \"then we'll soon try to find\nit.\"\n\nNext morning the Giant was away early, and strode off to the wood, and\nas soon as he was gone Boots and the Princess were in the cupboard\nhunting for his heart. But the more they sought for it, the less they\nfound it.\n\n\"Well,\" said the Princess, \"we'll just try him once more.\"\n\nSo she decked out the cupboard with flowers and garlands, and when the\ntime came for the Giant to come home, Boots crept under the bed again.\n\nThen back came the Giant.\n\nSnuff-snuff! \"My eyes and limbs, what a smell of Christian blood there\nis in here!\"\n\n\"I know there is,\" said the Princess; \"for a little while since there\ncame a magpie flying with a man's bone in his bill, and let it fall\ndown the chimney. I made all the haste I could to get it out of the\nhouse again, but after all my pains I dare say it's that you smell.\"\n\nWhen the Giant heard that he said no more about it; but a little while\nafter he saw how the cupboard was all decked about with flowers and\ngarlands, so he asked who it was that had done that. Who could it be\nbut the Princess?\n\n\"And, pray, what's the meaning of all this tomfoolery?\" asked the Giant.\n\n\"Oh, I'm so fond of you, I couldn't help doing it when I knew your\nheart lay there,\" said the Princess.\n\n\"How can you be so silly as to believe any such thing?\" said the Giant.\n\n\"Oh, yes; how can I help believing it when you say it?\" said the\nPrincess.\n\n\"You're a goose,\" said the Giant; \"where my heart is you will never\ncome.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the Princess, \"but for all that, 'twould be such a\npleasure to know where it really lies.\"\n\nThen the poor Giant could hold out no longer, but was forced to say:\n\n\"Far, far away in a lake lies an island; on that island stands a\nchurch; in that church is a well; in that well swims a duck; in that\nduck there is an egg, and in that egg there lies my heart--you darling!\"\n\nIn the morning early, while it was still gray dawn, the Giant strode\noff to the wood.\n\n\"Yes! now I must set off too,\" said Boots; \"if I only knew how to find\nthe way.\" He took a long, long farewell of the Princess, and when he\ngot out of the Giant's door, there stood the Wolf waiting for him. So\nBoots told him all that had happened inside the house and said now he\nwished to ride to the well in the church, if he only knew the way. So\nthe Wolf bade him jump on his back, he'd soon find the way; and away\nthey went till the wind whistled after them, over hedge and field, over\nhill and dale. After they had travelled many, many days, they came to\nthe lake. Then the Prince did not know how to get over it, but the\nWolf bade him only be not afraid, but stick on, and so he jumped into\nthe lake with the Prince on his back, and swam over to the island. So\nthey came to the church; but the church keys hung high, high up on the\ntop of the tower, and at first the Prince did not know how to get them\ndown.\n\n\"You must call on the Raven,\" said the Wolf.\n\nSo the Prince called on the Raven, and in a trice the Raven came, and\nflew up and fetched the keys, and so the Prince got into the church.\nBut when he came to the well, there lay the duck, and swam about\nbackwards and forwards, just as the Giant had said. So the Prince stood\nand coaxed it and coaxed it, till it came to him, and he grasped it in\nhis hand; but just as he lifted it up from the water the duck dropped\nthe egg into the well, and then Boots was beside himself to know how to\nget it out again.\n\n\"Well, now you must call on the Salmon, to be sure,\" said the Wolf; and\nthe king's son called on the Salmon, and the Salmon came and fetched up\nthe egg from the bottom of the well.\n\nThen the Wolf told him to squeeze the egg, and as soon as ever he\nsqueezed it, the Giant screamed out.\n\n\"Squeeze it again,\" said the Wolf; and when the Prince did so, the\nGiant screamed still more piteously, and begged and prayed so earnestly\nto be spared, saying he would do all that the Prince wished if he would\nonly not squeeze his heart in two.\n\n\"Tell him, if he will restore to life again your six brothers and their\nbrides, whom he has turned to stone, you will spare his life,\" said\nthe Wolf. Yes, the Giant was ready to do that, and he turned the six\nbrothers into king's sons again, and their brides into king's daughters.\n\n\"Now, squeeze the egg in two,\" said the Wolf. So Boots squeezed the egg\nto pieces, and the Giant burst at once.\n\nNow, when he had made an end of the Giant, Boots rode back on the Wolf\nto the Giant's house, and there stood all his six brothers alive and\nmerry, with their brides. Then Boots went into the hillside after his\nbride, and so they all set off home again to their father's house. And\nyou may fancy how glad the old king was when he saw all his seven sons\ncome back, each with his bride.\n\n\"But the loveliest bride of all is the bride of Boots, after all,\" said\nthe King, \"and he shall sit uppermost at the table, with her by his\nside.\"\n\nSo he sent out and called a great wedding-feast, and the mirth was both\nloud and long; and if they have not done feasting, why, they are still\nat it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nTHE BITER BIT\n\nSERBIAN[275:1]\n\n     [275:1] From \"Hero Tales and Legends of the Serbians,\" by\n     Vojislav M. Petrovic.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was an old man who, whenever he heard anyone\ncomplain how many sons he had to care for, always laughed and said, \"I\nwish that it would please God to give me a hundred sons!\"\n\nThis he said in jest; as time went on, however, he had, in reality,\nneither more nor less than a hundred sons.\n\nHe had trouble enough to find different trades for his sons, but when\nthey were once all started in life they worked diligently and gained\nplenty of money. Now, however, came a fresh difficulty. One day the\neldest son came in to his father and said, \"My dear father, I think it\nis quite time that I should marry.\"\n\nHardly had he said these words before the second son came in, saying,\n\"Dear father, I think it is already time that you were looking out for\na wife for me.\"\n\nA moment later came in the third son, asking, \"Dear father, don't you\nthink it is high time that you should find me a wife?\" In like manner\ncame the fourth and fifth, until the whole hundred had made a similar\nrequest. All of them wished to marry and desired their father to find\nwives for them as soon as he could.\n\nThe old man was not a little troubled at these requests; he said,\nhowever, to his sons, \"Very well, my sons, _I_ have nothing to say\nagainst your marrying; there is, however, I foresee, one great\ndifficulty in the way. There are one hundred of you asking for wives,\nand I hardly think we can find one hundred marriageable girls in all\nthe fifteen villages which are in our neighborhood.\"\n\nTo this the sons, however, answered, \"Don't be anxious about that, but\nmount your horse and take in your sack sufficient engagement cakes. You\nmust take, also, a stick in your hand so that you can cut a notch in it\nfor every girl you see. It does not signify whether she be handsome or\nugly, or lame or blind, just cut a notch in your stick for every one\nyou meet with.\"\n\nThe old man said, \"Very wisely spoken, my sons! I will do exactly as\nyou tell me.\"\n\nAccordingly he mounted his horse, took a sack full of cakes on his\nshoulder and a long stick in his hand, and started off at once to beat\nup the neighborhood for girls to marry his sons.\n\nThe old man had travelled from village to village during a whole month,\nand whenever he had seen a girl he had cut a notch in his stick. But he\nwas getting pretty well tired, and he began to count how many notches\nhe had already made. When he had counted them carefully over and\nover again, to be certain that he had counted all, he could only make\nout seventy-four, so that still twenty-six were wanting to complete\nthe number required. He was, however, so weary with his month's ride\nthat he determined to return home. As he rode along, he saw a priest\ndriving oxen yoked to a plough, and seemingly very deep in anxious\nthought about something. Now the old man wondered a little to see the\npriest ploughing his own corn-fields without even a boy to help him; he\ntherefore shouted to ask him why he drove his oxen himself. The priest,\nhowever, did not even turn his head to see who called him, so intent\nwas he in urging on his oxen and in guiding his plough.\n\nThe old man thought he had not spoken loud enough, so he shouted out\nagain as loud as he could, \"Stop your oxen a little, and tell me why\nyou are ploughing yourself without even a lad to help you, and this,\ntoo, on a holy-day!\"\n\nNow the priest--who was in a perspiration with his hard work--answered\ntestily, \"I conjure you by your old age leave me in peace! I cannot\ntell you my ill-luck.\"\n\nAt this answer, however, the old man was only the more curious, and\npersisted all the more earnestly in asking questions to find out why\nthe priest ploughed on a saint's day. At last the priest, tired with\nhis importunity, sighed deeply and said, \"Well, if you _will_ know: I\nam the only man in my household and God has blessed me with a hundred\ndaughters!\"\n\nThe old man was overjoyed at hearing this, and exclaimed cheerfully,\n\"That's very good! It is just what I want, for I have a hundred sons,\nand so, as you have a hundred daughters, we can be friends.\"\n\nThe moment the priest heard this he became pleasant and talkative, and\ninvited the old man to pass the night in his house. Then, leaving his\nplough in the field, he drove the oxen back to the village. Just before\nreaching his house, however, he said to the old man, \"Go yourself into\nthe house whilst I tie up my oxen.\"\n\nNo sooner, however, had the old man entered the yard than the wife of\nthe priest rushed at him with a big stick, crying out, \"We have not\nbread enough for our hundred daughters, and we want neither beggars nor\nvisitors,\" and with these words she drove him away.\n\nShortly afterwards the priest came out of the barn, and, finding the\nold man on the road before the gate, asked him why he had not gone into\nthe house as he had told him to do. Whereupon the old man replied, \"I\nwent in, but your wife drove me away!\"\n\nThen the priest said, \"Only wait here a moment till I come back to\nfetch you.\" He then went quickly into his house and scolded his wife\nright well, saying, \"What have you done? What a fine chance you have\nspoiled! The man who came in was going to be our friend, for he has a\nhundred sons who would gladly have married our hundred daughters!\"\n\nWhen the wife heard this she changed her dress hastily, and arranged\nher hair and head-dress in a different fashion. Then she smiled very\nsweetly, and welcomed with the greatest possible politeness the old\nman, when her husband led him into the house. In fact, she pretended\nthat she knew nothing at all of anyone's having been driven away from\ntheir door. And as the old man wanted much to find wives for his sons,\nhe also pretended that he did not know that the smiling house-mistress\nand the woman who drove him away with a stick were one and the\nself-same person.\n\nSo the old man passed the night in the house, and next morning asked\nthe priest formally to give him his hundred daughters for wives for\nhis hundred sons. Thereupon, the priest answered that he was quite\nwilling, and had already spoken to his daughters about the matter,\nand that they, too, were all quite willing. Then the old man took his\nengagement-cakes, and put them on the table beside him, and gave each\nof the girls a piece of money to _mark_. Then each of the engaged girls\nsent a small present by him to that one of his sons to whom she was\nthus betrothed. These gifts the old man put in the bag wherein he had\ncarried the engagement-cakes. He then mounted his horse, and rode off\nmerrily homewards. There were great rejoicings in his household when\nhe told how successful he had been in his search, and that he really\nhad found a hundred girls ready and willing to be married; and these\nhundred, too, a priest's daughters.\n\nThe sons insisted that they should begin to make the wedding\npreparations without delay, and commenced at once to invite the guests\nwho were to form part of the wedding procession to go to the priest's\nhouse and bring home the brides.\n\nHere another difficulty occurred. The old father must find two hundred\nbride-leaders (two for each bride); one hundred kooms (witnesses); one\nhundred starisvats; one hundred chaious (running footmen to go before\nthe procession); and three hundred voivodes (standard-bearers); and,\nbesides these, a respectable number of other non-official guests.\nTo find all these persons the father had to hunt throughout the\nneighborhood for three years; at last, however, they were all found,\nand a day was appointed when they were to meet at his house, and go\nthence in procession to the house of the priest.\n\nOn the appointed day all the invited guests gathered at the old man's\nhouse. With great noise and confusion, after a fair amount of feasting,\nthe wedding procession was formed properly, and set out for the house\nof the priest, where the hundred brides were already prepared for their\ndeparture for their new home.\n\nSo great was the confusion, indeed, that the old man quite forgot to\ntake with him one of his hundred ones, and never missed him in the\ngreeting and talking and drinking he was obliged, as father of the\nbridegrooms, to go through. Now the young man had worked so long and\nso hard in preparing for the wedding-day that he never woke up till\nlong after the procession had started; and every one had had, like his\nfather, too much to do and too many things to think of to miss him.\n\nThe wedding procession arrived in good order at the priest's house\nwhere a feast was already spread out for them. Having done honor to\nthe various good things, and having gone through all the ceremonies\nusual on such occasions, the hundred brides were given over to their\n\"leaders,\" and the procession started on its return to the old man's\nhouse. But, as they did not set off until pretty late in the afternoon,\nit was decided that the night should be spent somewhere on the road.\nWhen they came, therefore, to a certain river named \"Luckless,\" as it\nwas already dark, some of the men proposed that the party should pass\nthe night by the side of the water without crossing over. However,\nsome others of the chief of the party so warmly advised the crossing\nof the river and encamping on the other bank, that this course was at\nlength, after a very lively discussion, determined on; accordingly the\nprocession began to move over the bridge.\n\nJust, however, as the wedding-party were half-way across the bridge,\nits two sides began to draw nearer each other, and pressed the people\nso close together that they had hardly room to breathe--much less could\nthey move forwards or backwards.\n\nThey were kept for some time in this position, some shouting and\nscolding, others quiet because frightened, until at length a black\ngiant appeared, and shouted to them in a terribly loud voice, \"Who are\nyou all? Where do you come from? Where are you going?\"\n\nSome of the bolder among them answered, \"We are going to our old\nfriend's house, taking home the hundred brides for his hundred sons;\nbut unluckily we ventured on this bridge after nightfall, and it has\npressed us so tightly together that we cannot move one way or the\nother.\"\n\n\"And where is your old friend?\" inquired the black giant.\n\nNow all the wedding guests turned their eyes towards the old man.\nThereupon he turned towards the giant, who instantly said to him,\n\"Listen, old man! Will you give me what you have forgotten at home, if\nI let your friends pass over the bridge?\"\n\nThe old man considered some time what it might be he had forgotten at\nhome, but at last, not being able to recollect anything in particular\nthat he had left, and hearing on all sides the groans and moans of his\nguests, he replied, \"Well, I will give it to you, if you will only let\nthe procession pass over.\"\n\nThen the black giant said to the party, \"You all hear what he has\npromised, and are all my witnesses to the bargain. In three days I\nshall come to fetch what I have bargained for.\"\n\nHaving said this, the black giant widened the bridge and the whole\nprocession passed on to the other bank in safety. The people, however,\nno longer wished to spend the night on the way, so they moved on as\nfast as they could, and early in the morning reached the old man's\nhouse.\n\nAs everybody talked of the strange adventure they had met with, the\neldest son, who had been left at home, soon began to understand how the\nmatter stood, and went to his father saying, \"O my father! you have\nsold _me_ to the black giant!\"\n\nThen the old man was very sorry, and troubled; but his friends\ncomforted him, saying, \"Don't be frightened! Nothing will come of it.\"\n\nThe marriage ceremonies were celebrated with great rejoicings. Just,\nhowever, as the festivities were at their height, on the third day, the\nblack giant appeared at the gate and shouted, \"Now, give me at once\nwhat you have promised.\"\n\nThe old man, trembling all over, went forward and asked him, \"What do\nyou want?\"\n\n\"Nothing but what you have promised me!\" returned the black giant.\n\nAs he could not break his promise, the old man, very distressed, was\nthen obliged to deliver up his eldest son to the giant, who thereupon\nsaid, \"Now I shall take your son with me, but after three years have\npassed you can come to the Luckless River and take him away.\"\n\nHaving said this the black giant disappeared, taking with him the young\nman, whom he carried off to his workshop as an apprentice to the trade\nof witchcraft.\n\nFrom that time the poor old man had not a single moment of happiness.\nHe was always sad and anxious, and counted every year, and every month,\nand week, and even every day, until the dawn of the last day of the\nthree years. Then he took a staff in his hand and hurried off to the\nbank of the river Luckless. As soon as he reached the river he was met\nby the black giant, who asked him, \"Why are you come?\" The old man\nanswered that he came to take home his son according to his agreement.\n\nThereupon the giant brought out a tray on which stood a sparrow, a\nturtle-dove, and a quail, and said to the old man, \"Now, if you can\ntell which of these is your son, you may take him away.\"\n\nThe poor old father looked intently at the three birds, one after the\nother, and over and over again, but at last he was forced to own that\nhe could not tell which of them was his son. So he was obliged to go\naway by himself, and was far more miserable than before. He had hardly,\nhowever, got half-way home when he thought he would go back to the\nriver and take one of the birds which he remembered had looked at him\nintently.\n\nWhen he reached the river Luckless he was again met by the black giant,\nwho brought out the tray again, and placed on it this time a partridge,\na tit-mouse and a thrush, saying, \"Now, my old man, find out which is\nyour son!\"\n\nThe anxious father again looked at one bird after the other, but he\nfelt more uncertain than before, and so, crying bitterly, again went\naway.\n\nJust as the old man was going through a forest, which was between the\nriver Luckless and his house, an old woman met him and said, \"Stop a\nmoment! Where are you hurrying to? And why are you in such trouble?\"\n\nNow, the old man was so deeply musing over his great unhappiness that\nhe did not at first attend to the old woman; but she followed him,\ncalling after him, and repeating her questions with more earnestness.\nSo he stopped at last, and told her what a terrible misfortune had\nfallen upon him. When the old woman had listened to the whole story,\nshe said cheerfully, \"Don't be cast down! Don't be afraid. Go back\nagain to the river, and, when the giant brings out the three birds,\nlook into their eyes sharply. When you see that one of the birds has a\ntear in one of its eyes, seize that bird and hold it fast, for it has a\nhuman soul.\"\n\nThe old man thanked her heartily for her advice, and turned back, for\nthe third time, towards the Luckless River. Again the black giant\nappeared, and looked very merry whilst he brought out his tray and put\nupon it a sparrow, a dove, and a woodpecker, saying, \"My old man! find\nout which is your son!\" Then the father looked sharply into the eyes of\nthe birds, and saw that from the right eye of the dove a tear dropped\nslowly down. In a moment he grasped the bird tightly, saying, \"This is\nmy son!\" The next moment he found himself holding fast his eldest son\nby the shoulder, and so, singing and shouting in his great joy, took\nhim quickly home, and gave him over to his eldest daughter-in-law, the\nwife of his son.\n\nNow for some time they all lived together very happily. One day,\nhowever, the young man said to his father, \"Whilst I was apprenticed\nin the workshop of the black giant, I learned a great many tricks of\nwitchcraft. Now I intend to change myself into a fine horse, and you\nshall take me to market and sell me for a good sum of money. But be\nsure not to give up the halter.\"\n\nThe father did as the son had said. Next market day he went to the\ncity with a fine horse which he offered for sale. Many buyers came\nround him, admiring the horse, and bidding for it, so that at last the\nold man was able to sell it for two thousand ducats. When he received\nthe money he took good care not to let go the halter, and he returned\nhome far richer than he ever dreamt of being.\n\nA few days later, the man who had bought the horse sent his servant\nwith it to the river to bathe, and, whilst in the water, the horse got\nloose from the servant and galloped off into the neighboring forest.\nThere he changed himself back into his real shape, and returned to his\nfather's house.\n\nAfter some time had passed, the young man said one day to his father,\n\"Now I will change myself into an ox, and you can take me to market to\nsell me; but take care not to give up the rope with which you lead me.\"\n\nSo next market-day the old man went to the city leading a very fine ox,\nand soon found a buyer who offered ten times the usual price paid for\nan ox. The buyer asked also for the rope to lead the animal home, but\nthe old man said, \"What do you want with such an old thing? You had\nbetter buy a new one!\" and he went off taking with him the rope.\n\nThat evening, whilst the servants of the buyer were driving the ox to\nthe field, he ran away into a wood near, and having taken there his\nhuman shape, returned home to his father's house.\n\nOn the eve of the next market-day, the young man said to his father:\n\"Now I will change myself into a cow with golden horns, and you can\nsell me as before, only take care not to give up the string.\"\n\nAccordingly he changed himself next morning into a cow, and the old man\ntook it to the market-place, and asked for it three hundred crowns.\n\nBut the black giant had learned that his former apprentice was making\na great deal of money by practicing the trade he had taught him, and,\nbeing jealous at this, he determined to put an end to the young man's\ngains.\n\nTherefore on the third day he came to the market himself as a buyer,\nand the moment he saw the beautiful cow with the golden horns he knew\nthat it could be no other than his former apprentice. So he came up to\nthe old man, and, having outbid all the other would-be purchasers, paid\nat once the price he had agreed on. Having done this, he caught the\nstring in his hand, and tried to wrench it from the terrified old man,\nwho called out, \"I have not sold you the string, but the cow!\" and held\nthe string as fast as he could with both hands.\n\n\"Oh, no!\" said the buyer, \"I have the law and custom on my side.\nWhoever buys a cow, buys also the string with which it is led!\" Some\nof the amused and astonished lookers-on said that this was quite true,\ntherefore the old man was obliged to give up the string.\n\nThe black giant, well satisfied with his purchase, took the cow with\nhim to his castle, and, after having put iron chains on her legs,\nfastened her in a cellar. Every morning the giant gave the cow some\nwater and hay, but he never unchained her.\n\nOne evening, however, the cow, with incessant struggles, managed to get\nfree from the chains, and immediately opened the cellar-door with her\nhorns and ran away.\n\nNext morning the black giant went as usual into the cellar, carrying\nthe hay and water for the cow; but seeing she had got free and run\naway, he threw the hay down, and started off at once to pursue her.\n\nWhen he came within sight of her he turned himself into a wolf and\nran at her with great fury; but his clever apprentice changed himself\ninstantly from a cow into a bear, whereupon the giant turned himself\nfrom a wolf into a lion; the bear then turned into a tiger, and the\nlion changed into a crocodile, whereupon the tiger turned into a\nsparrow. Upon this the giant changed from the form of a crocodile into\na hawk, and the apprentice immediately changed into a hare; on seeing\nwhich the hawk became a greyhound. Then the apprentice changed from\na hare into a falcon, and the greyhound into an eagle; whereupon the\napprentice changed into a fish. The giant then turned from an eagle\ninto a mouse, and immediately the apprentice, as a cat, ran after him;\nthen the giant turned himself into a heap of millet, and the apprentice\ntransformed himself into a hen and chickens, which very greedily picked\nup all the millet, except one single seed, in which the master was, who\nchanged himself into a squirrel; instantly, however, the apprentice\nbecame a hawk, and, pouncing on the squirrel, killed it.\n\nIn this way the apprentice beat his master, the black giant, and\nrevenged himself for all the sufferings he had endured whilst learning\nthe trade of witchcraft.\n\nHaving killed the squirrel, the hawk took his proper shape again, and\nthe young man returned joyfully to his father, whom he made immensely\nrich.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nTHE PEACH'S SON\n\nJAPANESE[290:1]\n\n     [290:1] From \"Myths and Legends of Japan,\" by F. Hadland\n     Davis.\n\n\nOne day, while an old woman stood by a stream washing her clothes, she\nchanced to see an enormous peach floating on the water. It was quite\nthe largest she had ever seen, and as this old woman and her husband\nwere extremely poor she immediately thought what an excellent meal this\nextraordinary peach would make. As she could find no stick with which\nto draw the fruit to the bank, she suddenly remembered the following\nverse:\n\n    Distant water is bitter,\n    The near water is sweet;\n    Pass by the distant water\n    And come into the sweet.\n\nThis little song had the desired effect. The peach came nearer and\nnearer till it stopped at the old woman's feet. She stooped down\nand picked it up. So delighted was she with her discovery that she\ncould not stay to do any more washing, but hurried home as quickly as\npossible.\n\nWhen her husband arrived in the evening, with a bundle of grass upon\nhis back, the old woman excitedly took the peach out of a cupboard and\nshowed it to him.\n\nThe old man, who was tired and hungry, was equally delighted at the\nthought of so delicious a meal. He speedily brought a knife and was\nabout to cut the fruit open, when it suddenly opened of its own accord,\nand the prettiest child imaginable tumbled out with a merry laugh.\n\n\"Don't be afraid,\" said the little fellow. \"The Gods have heard how\nmuch you desired a child, and have sent me to be a solace and a comfort\nin your old age.\"\n\nThe old couple were so overcome with joy that they scarcely knew what\nto do with themselves. Each in turn nursed the child, caressed him, and\nmurmured many sweet and affectionate words. They called him Momotaro,\nor \"Son of a Peach.\"\n\nWhen Momotaro was fifteen years old, he was a lad far taller and\nstronger than boys of his own age. The making of a great hero stirred\nin his veins, and it was a knightly heroism that desired to right the\nwrong.\n\nOne day Momotaro came to his foster-father and asked him if he\nwould allow him to take a long journey to a certain island in the\nNorth-eastern Sea where dwelt a number of ogres,[291:1] who had\ncaptured a great company of innocent people, many of whom they ate.\nTheir wickedness was beyond description, and Momotaro desired to kill\nthem, rescue the unfortunate captives, and bring back the plunder of\nthe island that he might share it with his foster-parents.\n\n     [291:1] The author calls them \"devils,\" but in other versions\n     of this well-known tale they are man-eating giants.\n\nThe old man was not a little surprised to hear this daring scheme. He\nknew that Momotaro was no common child. He had been sent from heaven,\nand he believed that all the ogres and demons could not harm him. So at\nlength the old man gave his consent, saying: \"Go, Momotaro, slay the\nogres and bring peace to the land.\"\n\nWhen the old woman had given Momotaro a number of rice-cakes the youth\nbade his foster-parents farewell, and started out upon his journey.\n\nWhile Momotaro was resting under a hedge eating one of the rice-cakes,\na great dog came up to him, growled, and showed his teeth. The dog,\nmoreover, could speak, and threateningly begged that Momotaro would\ngive him a cake. \"Either you give me a cake,\" said he, \"or I will kill\nyou!\"\n\nWhen, however, the dog heard that the famous Momotaro stood before\nhim, his tail dropped between his legs, and he bowed with head to the\nground, requesting that he might follow \"Son of a Peach,\" and render to\nhim all the service that lay in his power.\n\nMomotaro readily accepted this offer, and after throwing the dog half a\ncake they proceeded on their way.\n\nThey had not gone far when they encountered a monkey, who also begged\nto be admitted to Momotaro's service. This was granted, but it was some\ntime before the dog and the monkey ceased snapping at each other and\nbecame good friends.\n\nProceeding upon their journey, they came across a pheasant. Now the\ninnate jealousy of the dog was again awakened, and he ran forward\nand tried to kill the bright-plumed creature. Momotaro separated the\ncombatants, and in the end the pheasant was also admitted to the little\nband, walking decorously in the rear.\n\nAt length Momotaro and his followers reached the shore of the\nNorth-eastern Sea. Here our hero discovered a boat, and after a good\ndeal of timidity on the part of the dog, monkey and pheasant, they all\ngot aboard, and soon the little vessel was spinning away over the blue\nsea.\n\nAfter many days upon the ocean they sighted an island. Momotaro bade\nthe bird fly off, a winged herald to announce his coming, and bid the\nogres surrender.\n\nThe pheasant flew over the sea and alighted on the roof of a great\ncastle and shouted his stirring message, adding that the ogres, as a\nsign of submission, should break their horns.\n\nThe ogres only laughed and shook their horns and shaggy red hair. Then\nthey brought forth iron bars and hurled them furiously at the bird. The\npheasant cleverly evaded the missiles, and flew at the heads of many\nogres.\n\nIn the meantime Momotaro had landed with his two companions. He had no\nsooner done so than he saw two beautiful damsels weeping by a stream,\nas they wrung out blood-soaked garments.\n\n\"Oh!\" said they pitifully, \"we are daughters of _daimyos_, and are now\nthe captives of the Demon King of this dreadful island. Soon he will\nkill us, and alas! there is no one to come to our aid.\" Having made\nthese plaints the women wept anew.\n\n\"Ladies,\" said Momotaro, \"I have come for the purpose of slaying your\nwicked enemies. Show me a way into yonder castle.\"\n\nSo Momotaro, the dog, and the monkey entered through a small door in\nthe castle. Once inside this fortification, they fought tenaciously.\nMany of the ogres were so frightened that they fell off the parapets\nand were dashed to pieces, while others were speedily killed by\nMomotaro and his companions. All were destroyed except the King, and he\nresolved to surrender, and begged that his life might be spared.\n\n\"No,\" said Momotaro fiercely. \"I will not spare your wicked life. You\nhave tortured many innocent people and robbed the country for many\nyears.\"\n\nHaving said these words he gave the Demon King into the monkey's\nkeeping, and then proceeded through all the rooms of the castle, and\nset free the numerous prisoners he found there. He also gathered\ntogether much treasure.\n\nThe return journey was a very joyous affair indeed. The dog and the\npheasant carried the treasure between them, while Momotaro led the\nDemon King.\n\nMomotaro restored the two daughters of _daimyos_ to their homes,\nand many others who had been captives on the island. The whole\ncountry rejoiced in his victory, but no one more than Momotaro's\nfoster-parents, who ended their days in peace and plenty, thanks to the\ngreat treasure of the ogres which Momotaro bestowed upon them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nTHE MAN WHO LOST HIS LEGS\n\nKOREAN[295:1]\n\n     [295:1] From \"Korean Folk Tales,\" by Im Bang and Yi Ryuk.\n     Translated by James S. Gale.\n\n\nThere was a merchant in Chong-ju who used to go to Quelpart to buy\nseaweed. One time when he drew upon the shore he saw a man shuffling\nalong on the ground towards the boat. He crept nearer, and at last took\nhold of the side with both his hands and pulled himself in.\n\n\"When I looked at him,\" said the merchant, \"I found he was an old man\nwithout any legs. Astonished, I asked, saying, 'How is it, old man,\nthat you have lost your legs?'\n\n\"He said in reply, 'I lost my legs on a trip once when I was\nshipwrecked, and a great fish bit them off.'\"\n\n\"However did that happen?\" inquired the merchant.\n\nAnd the old man said:\n\n\"We were caught in a gale and driven till we touched on some island or\nother. Before us on the shore stood a high castle with a great gateway.\nThe twenty or so of us who were together in the storm-tossed boat were\nall exhausted from cold and hunger, and lying exposed. We landed and\nmanaged to go together to the castle.\n\n\"There was in it one man only, whose height was terrible to behold, and\nwhose chest was many spans round. His face was black and his eyes large\nand rolling. His voice was like the braying of a monster donkey.\n\n\"Our people made motions showing that they wanted something to eat. The\nman made no reply, but securely fastened the front gate. After this\nhe brought an armful of wood, put it in the middle of the courtyard,\nand there made a fire. When the fire blazed up he rushed after us and\ncaught a young lad, one of our company, cooked him before our eyes,\npulled him to pieces and ate him. We were all reduced to a state of\nhorror, not knowing what to do. We gazed at each other in dismay and\nstupefaction.\n\n\"When he had eaten his fill, he went up into a verandah and opened a\njar, from which he drank some kind of spirit. After drinking it he\nuttered the most gruesome and awful noises; his face grew very red\nand he lay down and slept. His snorings were like the roarings of the\nthunder.\n\n\"We planned then to make our escape, and so tried to open the great\ngate; but one leaf was about twenty-four feet across, and so thick and\nheavy that with all our strength we could not move it. The walls, too,\nwere a hundred and fifty feet high, and so we could do nothing with\nthem. We were like fish in a pot--beyond all possible way of escape. We\nheld each other's hands and cried.\n\n\"Among us one man thought of this plan: We had a knife and he took it,\nand while the monster was drunk and asleep, decided to stab his eyes\nout, and cut his throat. We said in reply, 'We are all doomed to death\nanyway; let's try'; and we made our way up on the verandah and stabbed\nhis eyes. He gave an awful roar, and struck out on all sides to catch\nus. We rushed here and there, making our escape out of the court back\ninto the rear garden. There were in this enclosure pigs and sheep,\nabout sixty of them in all. There we rushed, in among the pigs and\nsheep.\n\n\"He floundered about, waving his two arms after us, but not one of us\ndid he get hold of; we were all mixed up--sheep, pigs, and people. When\nhe did catch anything it was a sheep; and when it was not a sheep it\nwas a pig. So he opened the front gate to send all the animals out.\n\n\"We then each of us took a pig or sheep on the back and made straight\nfor the gate. The monster felt each, and finding it a pig or a sheep,\nlet it go. Then we all got out and rushed for the boat.\n\n\"A little later he came and sat on the bank and roared his threatenings\nat us. A lot of other giants came at his call. They took steps of\nthirty feet or so, came racing after us, caught the boat and made it\nfast; but we took axes and struck at the hands that held it, and so got\nfree at last and out to the open sea.\n\n\"Again a great wind arose, and we ran on to the rocks and were all\ndestroyed. Every one was engulfed in the sea and drowned; I alone got\nhold of a piece of boat-timber and lived. Then there was a horrible\nfish from the sea that came swimming after me and bit off my legs. At\nlast I drifted back home and here I am.\n\n\"When I think of it still, my teeth are cold and my bones shiver. My\nEight Lucky Stars are very bad, that's why it happened to me.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nTHE STONE GIANTESS\n\nNORTH AMERICAN INDIAN[299:1]\n\n     [299:1] From \"The Myths of the North American Indians,\" by\n     Lewis Spence.\n\n\nIn bygone times it was customary for a hunter's squaw to accompany her\nhusband when he sought the chase. A dutiful wife on these occasions\nwould carry home the game killed by the hunter and dress and cook it\nfor him.\n\nThere was once a chief among the Iroquois who was a very skilful\nhunter. In all his expeditions his wife was his companion and helper.\nOn one excursion he found such large quantities of game that he built a\nwigwam at the place, and settled there for some time with his wife and\nchild.\n\nOne day he struck out on a new track, while his wife followed the path\nthey had taken on the previous day, in order to gather the game killed\nthen. As the woman turned her steps homeward after a hard day's work\nshe heard the sound of another woman's voice inside the hut. Filled\nwith surprise she entered, but found to her consternation that her\nvisitor was no other than a Stone Giantess.\n\n(The Stone Giants were a strange and terrible race, whose bodies were\nall fashioned of solid stone; they once attacked the Iroquois, meaning\nto exterminate them completely, but were defeated with the help of the\nWest Wind.)\n\nTo add to her alarm, she saw that the creature had in her arms the\nchief's baby. While the mother stood in the doorway, wondering how she\ncould rescue her child from the clutches of the giantess, the latter\nsaid in a gentle and soothing voice: \"Do not be afraid; come inside.\"\n\nThe hunter's wife hesitated no longer, but boldly entered the wigwam.\nOnce inside, her fear changed to pity, for the giantess was evidently\nmuch worn with trouble and fatigue. She told the hunter's wife, who\nwas kindly and sympathetic, how she had travelled from the land of the\nStone Giants, fleeing from her cruel husband, who had sought to kill\nher, and how she had finally taken shelter in the solitary wigwam. She\nbesought the young woman to let her remain for a while, promising to\nassist her in her daily tasks. She also said she was very hungry, but\nwarned her hostess that she must be exceedingly careful about the food\nshe gave her. It must not be raw or at all underdone, for if once she\ntasted blood she might wish to kill the hunter and his wife and child.\n\nSo the wife prepared some food for her, taking care it was thoroughly\ncooked, and the two sat down to dine together. The Stone Giantess knew\nthat the woman was in the habit of carrying home the game, and she now\ndeclared she would do it in her stead. Moreover, she said she already\nknew where it was to be found, and insisted on setting out for it at\nonce. She very shortly returned, bearing in one hand a load of game\nwhich four men could scarcely have carried, and the woman recognized in\nher a very valuable assistant.\n\nThe time of the hunter's return drew near, and the Stone Giantess bade\nthe woman go out and meet her husband and tell him of her visitor. The\nman was very well pleased to learn how the newcomer had helped his\nwife, and he gave her a hearty welcome. In the morning he went out\nhunting as usual. When he had disappeared from sight in the forest, the\ngiantess turned quickly to the woman and said:\n\n\"I have a secret to tell you. My cruel husband is after me, and in\nthree days he will arrive here. On the third day your husband must\nremain at home and help me to slay him.\"\n\nWhen the third day came round the hunter remained at home, obedient to\nthe instructions of his guest.\n\n\"Now,\" said the giantess at last, \"I hear him coming. You must both\nhelp me to hold him. Strike him where I bid you, and we shall certainly\nkill him.\"\n\nThe hunter and his wife were seized with terror when a great commotion\noutside announced the arrival of the Stone Giant, but the firmness\nand courage of the giantess reassured them, and with something like\ncalmness they awaited the monster's approach. Directly he came in\nsight, the giantess rushed forward, grappled with him, and threw him to\nthe ground.\n\n\"Strike him on the arms!\" she cried to the others. \"Now on the nape of\nthe neck!\"\n\nThe trembling couple obeyed, and very shortly they had succeeded in\nkilling the huge creature.\n\n\"I will go and bury him,\" said the giantess. And that was the end of\nthe Stone Giant.\n\nThe strange guest stayed on in the wigwam till the time came for the\nhunter and his family to go back to the settlement, when she announced\nher intention of returning to her own people.\n\n\"My husband is dead,\" said she; \"I have no longer anything to fear.\"\n\nThus, having bid them farewell, she departed.\n\n\n\n\nPART IV\n\nSOME REAL GIANTS, _and_ WHAT SCIENCE HAS LEARNED ABOUT THEM\n\n\n_Giant gods and demigods loom large in the myths of every land--in\nIndia, China and Arabia, as well as Greece and Scandinavaia. Many\nrecords follow of \"real\" giants, during the seven or eight thousand\nyears since the first flashes of history. But it needs to be stated at\nonce that here, as in many other matters, exactness of facts is a very\nmodern quality._\n\n_Thus, when Pliny tells us that Gabbara, whom the Emperor Claudius\nbrought from Arabia, was nine feet, nine inches tall, we can only be\nsure that he was probably the largest human being in Rome at that time.\nAnd a suspicious number of these early tall men were seen through the\nmist of reverence due to kingly station and power._\n\n_A notable company these king-giants would make: Sesochris of Egypt,\nperhaps 4000 B. C., who \"passed for a giant\"; King Saul, the gigantic\nyouth of the tribe of Benjamin chosen by lot to reign over Israel;\nMaximinus, Thracian shepherd, fierce gladiator, and then savage Emperor\nof Rome, who, Capitolinus declares, was over eight feet tall, wore his\nwife's bracelet for a finger-ring, could break a horse's jaw with his\nfist or outpull a chariot team, and was in the habit of draining a\nsix gallon amphora of wine and consuming forty pounds of meat a day;\nHarold Hardrada, Viking rover, Mediterranean conqueror, and King of\nNorway, whose height was \"five ells\" (ten feet!); Emperor Maximilian of\nGermany, and many another._\n\n_A regiment of formidable warriors would follow these rulers, such as\nthe huge grenadiers of King Frederick William of Prussia and of Peter\nthe Great. The Elector of Brandenburg, too, had in the 16th Century a\nfamous soldier named Michel, reputed to be eight feet tall--a worthy\ndescendant of that giant Swabian, \u00c6nother, renowned in the army of\nCharlemagne, who swam rushing rivers dragging his horse after him,\nlooked down upon his enemies as \"little frogs,\" and would spit several\nat once like birds on his weapon._\n\n_Frederick William developed a theory that he could establish a new\nrace of physical marvels by intermarrying his huge guards with women of\nphenomenal size, and he used to busy himself greatly over such matches._\n\n_He had little success. The giant as a fighter passed swiftly away\nbefore cannon, muskets and pistols. It was not long before he was\nmerely a prodigy to draw the curious crowd._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nSOME REAL GIANTS\n\n\nLet us agree, arbitrarily, that people of from six to seven feet in\nheight are only very tall men, but that those who exceed the seven-foot\nmark may fairly be called giants. During the last two hundred years\nthere have been over a hundred men and women, figuring in the public\neye, who have exceeded seven feet. Probably twenty-five of these\nhave had a height of eight feet or over. In spite of statements in\nadvertisements and handbills and newspapers, even in encyclop\u00e6dias,\nthere does not seem to have been any human being measured by scientific\nmethods who reached nine feet.\n\nTo be sure, one may read in the histories and biographies that the\nRoman Emperors Maximinus and Jovianus, and Charlemagne, and Emperor\nMaximilian of Germany were eight-and-a-half or nine feet. But one\ncannot measure even live Emperors, unfortunately, much less long dead\nones. Many a traveller asserted that he had seen with his own eyes\nscores of Patagonian savages ranging from nine to eleven feet; yet as\nsoon as careful measurements were made these dwindled to a maximum\nof something under seven. And the vast number of \"giants' bones\" dug\nup from time to time, indicating men of nine feet and upward, have\npractically all been shown to be those of great animals.\n\nOne of the most notable characteristics about the giant is a certain\nshrinking tendency before the camera and the tape. In the last twenty\nyears or so a group of alert savants, especially in France, have been\ngathering authoritative biological observations upon all the subjects\npossible; and it is wise to recall that only such exact scientific\nrecords can be relied on.\n\nFor, apart from pride, there is a vast deal of money involved in a few\nextra inches for the show giant. For instance, Antoine Hugo, announced\nas the tallest man, died in 1917 after having made quite a fortune\nin America; and it was stated that a \"freak\" promoter would pay a\npremium of $400 an inch, for any one who could show a greater stature\nthan Hugo! That is to say, he would give nearly $3000 for a nine-foot\ngiant--besides paying the giant himself something like $1500 to $2000 a\nweek. Whereas Hugo's brother, who was only a couple of inches shorter\nthan he, was not in demand in the United States, which calls for only\n\"champions\" in the freak class.\n\nApparently the tallest man on record was Machnow, a Russian, who was\nborn at Witebsk about 1882, was exhibited in London in 1905, in the\nUnited States, Germany, Holland, and elsewhere, and died around the age\nof thirty.\n\nNone of his family was exceptionally tall, and he himself was a normal\nchild up to the age of four. Then he began to grow very rapidly, not\neating a great deal, but sometimes sleeping for twenty-four hours at a\ntime. At fifteen he was about five feet two; at twenty-two, according\nto Professor Luschau and Lissauer he was seven feet and ten inches.\nWhen he appeared in London next year, he was credited with nine feet\nthree inches, and the most conservative of British encyclop\u00e6dias\naccepts this figure. In the show world he was universally taken as the\n\"champion,\" with a figure of eight feet seven inches. It seems beyond\nquestion that he was over eight and a half and under nine feet; his\nweight was given as 360 pounds.\n\nThe champion in 1920 was George Auger, credited with eight feet four\ninches, who is an American and affects frontier costume. Then there was\nthe famous smiling Chinaman, Chang, who exhibited his eight feet or so\nto nearly the whole world for a long period beginning about the end of\nthe American Civil War.\n\nA generation back there were in the eight-foot class the Austrian\nWinkelmeier; Paul Marie Elizabeth Wehde, born at Ben-Rendorf in\nThuringia, who was called \"The Queen of the Amazons\" and was handsome\nenough to appear with success at the London Alhambra in a review called\n\"Babil and Bijou\"; Ben Hicks, \"the Denver Steeple\"; and, a little\nsmaller, Captain Martin Van Buren Bates of Kentucky, who married in\nLondon in 1871 Miss Anna Swan, of Nova Scotia, who was three inches\ntaller than himself--they were celebrated as the tallest bride and\ngroom in the world--scoring fourteen feet eight inches between them,\nwhile the captain's weight of 450 pounds made him a notable figure.\n\nPublic curiosity regarding the very tall men is by no means modern.\nFifteen hundred years ago a poor giant in Rome was almost killed by\nthe press of people crowding about to get a sight of him; but there\nwas a special outbreak of such prodigies during the 18th century,\nparticularly in England.[308:1] Three of the most celebrated of these\nwere from Ireland.\n\n     [308:1] A century earlier came \"Long Meg of Westminster,\"\n     heroine of most extraordinary and comical exploits in one of\n     the old ballads.\n\nFirst came Cornelius MacGrath, born near the silver mines in Tipperary\nin 1736. Neither his parents nor their other children were remarkable\nin size; but when Cornelius visited Cork at the age of sixteen, a\nregular mob followed him through the streets, since he towered already\nhead and shoulders above other men.\n\nIt appeared that the year before Cornelius was much troubled with pains\nin his limbs; and thinking them rheumatic he would bathe in salt water\nfor a cure; but they were \"growing pains\" of a rare sort, for during\nthat year he shot up some eighteen inches.\n\nSince this rapid growth caused him partially to lose the use of his\nlimbs, Dr. Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, took the youngster into his\nhouse for a month or more, and had him treated so successfully that he\nregained his powers.\n\n\"His hand was then as large as a middling-sized shoulder of mutton,\nwhich joint he could cover with that member. The last of his shoes,\nwhich he carried about with him, measured fifteen inches in length.\"\n\nThis charity of the worthy Bishop was ill rewarded. There grew\nup a legend (which got into the newspapers and into Watkinson's\n\"Philosophical Survey of Ireland\") that Bishop Berkeley, from an\ninhuman scientific desire to experiment in giant-making, had taken a\npoor orphan, and by some mysterious course of feeding, had caused him\nto shoot up to the height of seven feet.\n\nMacGrath kept on growing until at the age of thirty he measured seven\nfeet eight inches; and he created a sensation in London, Paris and\nother European capitals, distracting attention from Cajanus, the great\nSwede, who was taller but not so well proportioned. His body was\nfinally stolen by medical students of Trinity College, on the day on\nwhich he was to have been \"waked.\"\n\n\"This is said to have been the origin of the feud between the students\nand the coal-porters of Dublin, which has continued to this day\n(1868).\" He was a great friend of the students, and he used to raise\nby the collar of his coat and hold out at arm's length, for a long\ntime, a small-sized student named Hare, who was father of the late Dr.\nHare, F.T.C.D. Mr. Hare one day ran between MacGrath's legs, and the\ngiant strained himself in recovering his balance, from which accident\nhe failed in health, and ultimately died. His skeleton is preserved at\nTrinity College.\n\nNext there came a Cork man, James MacDonald, who was first exhibited,\nserved as a grenadier for thirty years, then became a day laborer, and\ndied, according to the _Annual Register_ for 1760 at the age of 117!\n(which is nearly three times the average of giants, either modern or in\nthose--for them--unwholesome days of chivalry).\n\nA little later Charles Byrne, who called himself O'Brien, eclipsed both\nthese notables. He came to London in 1782, as witness this announcement:\n\n\"IRISH GIANT. To be seen this, and every day this week, in his\nlarge elegant room, at the cane-shop, next door to late Cox's Museum,\nSpring Garden, Mr. Byrne, the surprising Irish Giant, who is allowed to\nbe the tallest man in the world; his height is eight feet two inches,\nand in full proportion accordingly; only 21 years of age. His stay will\nnot be long in London, as he proposes shortly to visit the Continent.\nThe nobility and gentry are requested to take notice, there was a man\nshowed himself for some time past at the top of the Haymarket, and\nPiccadilly, who advertised and endeavored to impose himself upon the\npublic for the Irish Giant; Mr. Byrne begs leave to assure them it\nwas an imposition, as he is the only Irish Giant, and never was in\nthis metropolis before Thursday the 11th inst. Hours of admittance\nevery day, Sundays excepted, from 11 till 3, and from 5 till 8, at\nhalf-a-crown each person.\"\n\nPoor Patrick had a rather unhappy time of it, in spite of the furore\nattending his appearance during the short year when he stood \"as the\nmost extraordinary production of the human species ever beheld since\nthe days of Goliath.\"\n\nHe got to drinking; and visiting the Black Horse Tavern one night was\nrobbed of all the fruits of his year's success--which he carried in two\nbanknotes, one for \u00a3700, one for \u00a370.\n\nThen he became so fearful that the surgeons would get his body for\ndissection that he begged his remains should be thrown into the sea.\nThe London newspapers, during the summer of the consummation of\nAmerican Independence, were agog with wild tales of the plots to secure\nthe giant's body after death.\n\nSays one: \"The whole tribe of surgeons put in a claim for the poor\ndeparted Irish Giant, and surrounded his house just as Greenland\nharpooners would an enormous whale. One of them has gone so far as to\nhave a niche made for himself in the giant's coffin, in order to his\nbeing ready at hand on 'the witching time of night, when churchyards\nyawn.'\"\n\nAnother tale was that a rival party had equipped itself with\ndiving-bells to salvage the prodigy from the river, where it was to\nbe sunk at the Downs in twenty fathoms of water. A third said the\nundertakers had been offered a bribe of 800 guineas.\n\nWhatever the facts, the huge skeleton was for a century a treasured\npossession of the Hunterian Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons, in\nLondon.\n\nSpurred on by Byrne's reception, Patrick Cotter, of Kinsale, appeared\npresently. He also took the name of O'Brien and admitted himself to be\na descendant of Brian Boru. He soon eclipsed all rival pretenders, and\nin the twenty years before his death accumulated a competence. Many\nwere the stories told of him.\n\nHe used to travel in a carriage built especially for him, with a sort\nof well in the floor to hold his legs. One evening the carriage was\nstopped by a highwayman. As Cotter slowly rose to look out, the robber\nsaw this huge figure rising apparently endlessly, and, struck with\npanic, he dropped his pistol, clapped spurs to his horse and galloped\naway.\n\nThen he liked to do such things as startle the watchmen by reaching\nup to a street lamp and taking off the cover to light his pipe; or to\nwager \u00a310 that he would kiss a pretty girl at an upstairs window as he\nwalked past.\n\nSome half a century back a gentleman wrote to one of the magazines that\nhe possessed the giant's gold watch, which weighed a pound, and had his\nname engraved in it, and was still in good running order.\n\nRather more interesting than these show giants were the corps of\ngigantic guards, such as those maintained for half a century at Potsdam\nby the Prussian kings. (Even James I had a door-keeper, Walter Parsons,\nabout seven-and-a-half feet tall; and Cromwell boasted another, Daniel,\nof the same size, who became insane from religious ecstasy.) These huge\nsoldiers were gathered with great care, from all countries, the tallest\nbeing seven feet six inches; and since they were well built athletic\nmen they made a most impressive appearance.\n\nKing Frederick William, says Voltaire, \"armed with a huge sergeant's\ncane, marched forth every day to review his regiment of giants. These\ngiants were his greatest delight, and the things for which he went to\nthe heaviest expense.\n\n\"The men who stood in the first rank of this regiment were none of\nthem less than seven feet high, and he sent to purchase them from the\nfarthest parts of Europe to the borders of Asia. I have seen some\nof them since his death. The king, his son, who loved handsome, not\ngigantic men, had given those I saw to the queen, his wife, to serve in\nquality of Heiduques. I remember that they accompanied the old state\ncoach which preceded the Marquis de Beauvau, who came to compliment the\nking, in the month of November, 1740. The late king, Frederick William,\nwho had formerly sold all the magnificent furniture left by his father,\nnever could find a purchaser for that enormous engilded coach. The\nHeiduques, who walked on each side to support it in case it should\nfall, shook hands with each other over the roof.\"\n\nA pleasant exception in character was one Antony Payne of Cornwall, a\nregion always famous for tall men. (In fact the learned author of a\n\"History of Oxfordshire\" in 1676 was strongly of the opinion that a\nhuge Cornish skeleton discovered in his time was that of the famous\nArabian giant celebrated by Pliny, Gabbara, and that he had doubtless\nbeen brought to Britain by the Emperor Claudius.)\n\nTony Payne was reputed to measure four inches over seven feet. He was\na faithful follower of the Stowe family, as noted for intelligence,\nvigor and good humor as for size, and fought with distinction in the\nroyal army during the Great Rebellion; after the Restoration Charles II\nhad his portrait painted by Kneller. One Christmas Eve he sent a boy\nwith a donkey to bring in wood from the forest; going out after a while\nto look for him, he found the youth loitering along, whereupon Payne\npicked up the loaded donkey and carried it back to the castle. He lived\nto an old age and left behind him a reputation for spirit, ability and\nloyalty to his ideals which seems rare enough among physical prodigies.\n\nMany historical figures have been at least on the border line of\ngianthood: William of Scotland, Edward III, Godefroy of Bouillon,\nPhilip the Long, Fairfax, Baron Barford, Kl\u00e9ber, Rochester, Charles\nII's favorite, Gall, Brillat-Savarin, Benjamin Constant, the painter\nDavid, and others were men of quite extraordinary stature--just how\ntall we cannot, unfortunately, find out.\n\nBut the facts seem to be that at any one time one could come pretty\nnear counting on one's fingers all the people in the world who really\nmeasured over eight feet in height.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nWHAT SCIENCE HAS LEARNED ABOUT GIANTS\n\n\nNor is this modest eight feet of stature, after Sir Ferumbras and\nAngolafre, the most disheartening thing about giants.\n\nFor the cold-hearted biologists who have specialized on the subject\nwant to steal even the word and make \"gigantism\" signify a diseased\ncondition!\n\nThere is, alas! a good deal of justification for this iconoclastic\nposition. The exact observations are not yet numerous enough to enable\nus to generalize; but it is all too evident that the vast majority of\nthese tallest men and women are suffering from an obscure malady, which\nproduces a disharmony of the bony structure, and also causes various\nfunctional disorders. Generally the giant shows obvious signs of what\nthe pathologists call acromegaly--where there is a great enlargement of\nhead, feet and hands.\n\nWe do not know just what causes this abnormal growth. It seems usually\nassociated with ailments of one of the remarkable \"ductless glands,\"\nthe pituitary body, which clearly has some direct connection with the\ngrowth of bones and tissues.\n\nOddly enough, many of the characteristics of the giants of legend fit\nonly too well with this modern theory that the giant is diseased.\n\nPerhaps, after all, it is just as well that Roland and Launcelot and\nAmadis and Guy of Warwick exterminated the poor creatures.\n\nWe can for more reasons than one afford to smile at that solemn French\nAcademician, who just two centuries ago worked out a table to prove the\nshrinkage of the human stature since ancient times. Said M. Henrion,\nhere is the tabular record:\n\n  Adam           measured 125 feet 9 inches\n  Eve               \"     118  \"   9   \"\n  Noah              \"     103  \"\n  Abraham           \"      28  \"\n  Moses             \"      13  \"\n  Hercules          \"      10  \"\n  Alexander         \"       6  \"\n  Julius Caesar     \"       5  \"\n\nAnd he strove to convince the world that men for their wickedness\nmust have shrunk to nothing at all in a few more centuries; but the\nappearance of the Messiah during the epoch of the Roman Emperor stopped\nthe degeneration and fixed the normal height at what it then was!\n\nHowever, if our bodies today cannot be more than nine feet tall at the\nuttermost--there is no limit on our minds. _They_ can scale the heavens\nwhere the giant brood failed. They can be as lofty as we really desire.\n\nIt remains quite open to us moderns to be giants in intellect, and\nenergy, and true progress, and helpfulness toward our weaker brethren.","title":"A Book of Giants: Tales of Very Tall Men of Myth, Legend, History, and Science.","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":81644}