distinguished officers, as small as life.
In the above-described
warfare, if a Pygmy chanced to pluck out
a crane's tail
feather, it proved a very great
feather in his
cap. Once or twice, if you will believe me, a little man was
made chief ruler of the nation for no other merit in the world
than bringing home such a
feather.
But I have now said enough to let you see what a
gallant little
people these were, and how happily they and their forefathers,
for nobody knows how many generations, had lived with the
immeasurable Giant Antaeus. In the remaining part of the story,
I shall tell you of a far more
astonishing battle than any that
was fought between the Pygmies and the cranes.
One day the
mighty Antaeus was lolling at full length among his
little friends. His pine-tree walking stick lay on the ground,
close by his side. His head was in one part of the kingdom, and
his feet
extended across the boundaries of another part; and he
was
takingwhatever comfort he could get, while the Pygmies
scrambled over him, and peeped into his cavernous mouth, and
played among his hair. Sometimes, for a minute or two, the
Giant dropped asleep, and snored like the rush of a whirlwind.
During one of these little bits of
slumber, a Pygmy chanced to
climb upon his shoulder, and took a view around the
horizon, as
from the
summit of a hill; and he
beheld something, a long way
off, which made him rub the bright specks of his eyes, and look
sharper than before. At first he mistook it for a mountain, and
wondered how it had grown up so suddenly out of the earth. But
soon he saw the mountain move. As it came nearer and nearer,
what should it turn out to be but a human shape, not so big as
Antaeus, it is true, although a very
enormous figure, in
comparison with Pygmies, and a vast deal bigger than the men we
see nowadays.
When the Pygmy was quite satisfied that his eyes had not
deceived him, he scampered, as fast as his legs would carry
him, to the Giant's ear, and stooping over its
cavity, shouted
lustily into it:
"Halloo, brother Antaeus! Get up this minute, and take your
pine-tree walking stick in your hand. Here comes another Giant
to have a tussle with you."
"Poh, poh!" grumbled Antaeus, only half awake. "None of your
nonsense, my little fellow! Don't you see I'm
sleepy? There is
not a Giant on earth for whom I would take the trouble to get
up."
But the Pygmy looked again, and now perceived that the stranger
was coming directly towards the
prostrate form of Antaeus. With
every step, he looked less like a blue mountain, and more like
an
immensely" target="_blank" title="ad.极大地,无限地">
immensely large man. He was soon so nigh, that there could
be no possible mistake about the matter. There he was, with the
sun
flaming on his golden
helmet, and flashing from his
polished breastplate; he had a sword by his side, and a lion's
skin over his back, and on his right shoulder he carried a
club, which looked bulkier and heavier than the pine-tree
walking stick of Antaeus.
By this time, the whole nation of the Pygmies had seen the new
wonder, and a million of them set up a shout all together; so
that it really made quite an
audible squeak.
"Get up, Antaeus! Bestir yourself, you lazy old Giant! Here
comes another Giant, as strong as you are, to fight with you."
"Nonsense, nonsense!" growled the
sleepy Giant. "I'll have my
nap out, come who may."
Still the stranger drew nearer; and now the Pygmies could
plainly
discern that, if his
stature were less lofty than the
Giant's, yet his shoulders were even broader. And, in truth,
what a pair of shoulders they must have been! As I told you, a
long while ago, they once upheld the sky. The Pygmies, being
ten times as vivacious as their great numskull of a brother,
could not abide the Giant's slow movements, and were determined
to have him on his feet. So they kept shouting to him, and even
went so far as to prick him with their swords.
"Get up, get up, get up," they cried. "Up with you, lazy bones!
The strange Giant's club is bigger than your own, his shoulders
are the broadest, and we think him the stronger of the two."
Antaeus could not
endure to have it said that any
mortal was
half so
mighty as himself. This latter remark of the Pygmies
pricked him deeper than their swords; and, sitting up, in
rather a sulky humor, he gave a gape of several yards wide,
rubbed his eyes, and finally turned his
stupid head in the
direction w
hither his little friends were
eagerly pointing.
No sooner did he set eyes on the stranger, than, leaping on his
feet, and seizing his walking stick, he
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strode a mile or two to
meet him; all the while brandishing the
sturdy pine tree, so
that it whistled through the air.
"Who are you?" thundered the Giant. "And what do you want in
my dominions?"
There was one strange thing about Antaeus, of which I have not
yet told you, lest,
hearing of so many wonders all in a lump,
you might not believe much more than half of them. You are to
know, then, that
whenever this redoubtable Giant touched the
ground, either with his hand, his foot, or any other part of
his body, he grew stronger than ever he had been before. The
Earth, you remember, was his mother, and was very fond of him,
as being almost the biggest of her children; and so she took
this method of keeping him always in full vigor. Some persons
affirm that he grew ten times stronger at every touch; others
say that it was only twice as strong. But only think of it!
Whenever Antaeus took a walk, supposing it were but ten miles,
and that he stepped a hundred yards at a
stride, you may try to
cipher out how much mightier he was, on sitting down again,
than when he first started. And
whenever he flung himself on
the earth to take a little
repose, even if he got up the very
next
instant, he would be as strong as exactly ten just such
giants as his former self. It was well for the world that
Antaeus happened to be of a
sluggishdisposition and liked ease
better than exercise; for, if he had frisked about like the
Pygmies, and touched the earth as often as they did, he would
long ago have been strong enough to pull down the sky about
people's ears. But these great lubberly fellows resemble
mountains, not only in bulk, but in their disinclination to
move.
Any other
mortal man, except the very one whom Antaeus had now
encountered, would have been half frightened to death by the
Giant's
ferociousaspect and terrible voice. But the stranger
did not seem at all disturbed. He
carelessly lifted his club,
and balanced it in his hand, measuring Antaeus with his eye,
from head to foot, not as if wonder-smitten at his
stature, but
as if he had seen a great many Giants before, and this was by
no means the biggest of them. In fact, if the Giant had been no
bigger than the Pygmies (who stood pricking up their ears, and
looking and listening to what was going forward), the stranger
could not have been less afraid of him.
"Who are you, I say?" roared Antaeus again. "What's your name?
Why do you come
hither? Speak, you
vagabond, or I'll try the
thickness of your skull with my walking-stick!"
"You are a very discourteous Giant," answered the stranger
quietly, "and I shall probably have to teach you a little
civility, before we part. As for my name, it is Hercules. I
have come
hither because this is my most
convenient road to the
garden of the Hesperides, w
hither I am going to get three of
the golden apples for King Eurystheus."
"Caitiff, you shall go no farther!"
bellowed Antaeus, putting
on a grimmer look than before; for he had heard of the
mightyHercules, and hated him because he was said to be so strong."
Neither shall you go back
whence you came!"
"How will you prevent me," asked Hercules, "from going w
hitherI please?"
"By hitting you a rap with this pine tree here," shouted
Antaeus, scowling so that he made himself the ugliest monster
in Africa. "I am fifty times stronger than you; and now that I
stamp my foot upon the ground, I am five hundred times
stronger! I am
ashamed to kill such a puny little dwarf as you
seem to be. I will make a slave of you, and you shall likewise
be the slave of my brethren here, the Pygmies. So throw down
your club and your other weapons; and as for that lion's skin,
I intend to have a pair of gloves made of it."
"Come and take it off my shoulders, then," answered Hercules,
lifting his club.
Then the Giant, grinning with rage,
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strode tower-like towards
the stranger (ten times strengthened at every step), and
fetched a
monstrous blow at him with his pine tree, which
Hercules caught upon his club; and being more skilful than
Antaeus, he paid him back such a rap upon the sconce, that down
tumbled the great
lumbering man-mountain, flat upon the ground.
The poor little Pygmies (who really never dreamed that anybody
in the world was half so strong as their brother Antaeus) were
a good deal dismayed at this. But no sooner was the Giant down,
than up he bounced again, with tenfold might, and such a
furious
visage as was
horrible to behold. He aimed another blow
at Hercules, but struck awry, being blinded with wrath, and
only hit his poor
innocent Mother Earth, who groaned and
trembled at the stroke. His pine tree went so deep into the
ground, and stuck there so fast, that, before Antaeus could get
it out, Hercules brought down his club across his shoulders
with a
mighty thwack, which made the Giant roar as if ali sorts
of
intolerable noises had come screeching and rumbling out of
his immeasurable lungs in that one cry. Away it went, over
mountains and valleys, and, for aught I know, was heard on the
other side of the African deserts.
As for the Pygmies, their capital city was laid in ruins by the
concussion and
vibration of the air; and, though there was
uproar enough without their help, they all set up a
shriek out
of three millions of little throats, fancying, no doubt, that
they swelled the Giant's
bellow by at least ten times as much.
Meanwhile, Antaeus had scrambled upon his feet again, and
pulled his pine tree out of the earth; and, all aflame with
fury, and more outrageously strong than ever, he ran at
Hercules, and brought down another blow.
"This time, rascal," shouted he, "you shall not escape me."
But once more Hercules warded off the stroke with his club, and
the Giant's pine tree was shattered into a thousand splinters,
most of which flew among the Pygmies, and did them more
mischief than I like to think about. Before Antaeus could get
out of the way, Hercules let drive again, and gave him another
knock- down blow, which sent him heels over head, but served
only to increase his already
enormous and insufferable
strength. As for his rage, there is no telling what a fiery
furnace it had now got to be. His one eye was nothing but a
circle of red flame. Having now no weapons but his fists, he
doubled them up (each bigger than a hogshead), smote one
against the other, and danced up and down with
absolute frenzy,
flourishing his
immense arms about, as if he meant not merely
to kill Hercules, but to smash the whole world to pieces.
"Come on!" roared this thundering Giant. "Let me hit you but
one box on the ear, and you'll never have the
headache again."
Now Hercules (though strong enough, as you already know, to
hold the sky up) began to be
sensible that he should never win
the
victory, if he kept on knocking Antaeus down; for, by and
by, if he hit him such hard blows, the Giant would inevitably,
by the help of his Mother Earth, become stronger than the
mighty Hercules himself. So, throwing down his club, with which
he had fought so many
dreadful battles, the hero stood ready to
receive his
antagonist with naked arms.
"Step forward," cried he. "Since I've broken your pine tree,