Among the Pygmies, I suppose, if one of them grew to the heightof six or eight inches, he was reckoned a prodigiously tallman. It must have been very pretty to behold their littlecities, with streets two or three feet wide, paved with thesmallest pebbles, and bordered by habitations about as big as asquirrel's cage. The king's palace attained to the stupendousmagnitude of Periwinkle's baby house, and stood in the centerof a spacious square, which could hardly have been covered byour hearth- rug. Their principal temple, or cathedral, was aslofty as yonder bureau, and was looked upon as a wonderfullysublime and magnificent edifice. All these structures werebuilt neither of stone nor wood. They were neatly plasteredtogether by the Pygmy workmen, pretty much like birds' nests,out of straw, feathers, egg shells, and other small bits ofstuff, with stiff clay instead of mortar; and when the hot sunhad dried them, they were just as snug and comfortable as aPygmy could desire.
The country round about was conveniently laid out in fields,the largest of which was nearly of the same extent as one ofSweet Fern's flower beds. Here the Pygmies used to plant wheatand other kinds of grain, which, when it grew up and ripened,overshadowed these tiny people as the pines, and the oaks, andthe walnut and chestnut trees overshadow you and me, when wewalk in our own tracts of woodland. At harvest time, they wereforced to go with their little axes and cut down the grain,exactly as a woodcutter makes a clearing in the forest; andwhen a stalk of wheat, with its overburdened top, chanced tocome crashing down upon an unfortunate Pygmy, it was apt to bea very sad affair. If it did not smash him all to pieces, atleast, I am sure, it must have made the poor little fellow'shead ache. And O, my stars! if the fathers and mothers were sosmall, what must the children and babies have been? A wholefamily of them might have been put to bed in a shoe, or havecrept into an old glove, and played at hide-and-seek in itsthumb and fingers. You might have hidden a year-old baby undera thimble.
Now these funny Pygmies, as I told you before, had a Giant fortheir neighbor and brother, who was bigger, if possible, thanthey were little. He was so very tall that he carried a pinetree, which was eight feet through the butt, for a walkingstick. It took a far-sighted Pygmy, I can assure you, todiscern his summit without the help of a telescope; andsometimes, in misty weather, they could not see his upper half,but only his long legs, which seemed to be striding about bythemselves. But at noonday in a clear atmosphere, when the sunshone brightly over him, the Giant Antaeus presented a verygrand spectacle. There he used to stand, a perfect mountain ofa man, with his great countenance smiling down upon his littlebrothers, and his one vast eye (which was as big as a cartwheel, and placed right in the center of his forehead) giving afriendly wink to the whole nation at once.
The Pygmies loved to talk with Antaeus; and fifty times a day,one or another of them would turn up his head, and shoutthrough the hollow of his fists, "Halloo, brother Antaeus! Howare you, my good fellow?" And when the small distant squeak oftheir voices reached his ear, the Giant would make answer,"Pretty well, brother Pygmy, I thank you," in a thunderous roarthat would have shaken down the walls of their strongesttemple, only that it came from so far aloft.
It was a happy circumstance that Antaeus was the Pygmy people'sfriend; for there was more strength in his little finger thanin ten million of such bodies as this. If he had been asill-natured to them as he was to everybody else, he might havebeaten down their biggest city at one kick, and hardly haveknown that he did it. With the tornado of his breath, he couldhave stripped the roofs from a hundred dwellings and sentthousands of the inhabitants whirling through the air. He mighthave set his immense foot upon a multitude; and when he took itup again, there would have been a pitiful sight, to be sure.But, being the son of Mother Earth, as they likewise were, theGiant gave them his brotherly kindness, and loved them with asbig a love as it was possible to feel for creatures so verysmall. And, on their parts, the Pygmies loved Antaeus with asmuch affection as their tiny hearts could hold. He was alwaysready to do them any good offices that lay in his power; as forexample, when they wanted a breeze to turn their windmills, theGiant would set all the sails a-going with the mere naturalrespiration of his lungs. When the sun was too hot, he oftensat himself down, and let his shadow fall over the kingdom,from one frontier to the other; and as for matters in general,he was wise enough to let them alone, and leave the Pygmies tomanage their own affairs--which, after all, is about the bestthing that great people can do for little ones.
In short, as I said before, Antaeus loved the Pygmies, and thePygmies loved Antaeus. The Giant's life being as long as hisbody was large, while the lifetime of a Pygmy was but a span,this friendly intercourse had been going on for innumerablegenerations and ages. It was written about in the Pygmyhistories, and talked about in their ancient traditions. Themost venerable and white-bearded Pygmy had never heard of atime, even in his greatest of grandfathers' days, when theGiant was not their enormous friend. Once, to be sure (as wasrecorded on an obelisk, three feet high, erected on the placeof the catastrophe), Antaeus sat down upon about five thousandPygmies, who were assembled at a military review. But this wasone of those unlucky accidents for which nobody is to blame; sothat the small folks never took it to heart, and only requestedthe Giant to be careful forever afterwards to examine the acreof ground where he intended to squat himself.
It is a very pleasant picture to imagine Antaeus standing amongthe Pygmies, like the spire of the tallest cathedral that everwas built, while they ran about like pismires at his feet; andto think that, in spite of their difference in size, there wereaffection and sympathy between them and him! Indeed, it hasalways seemed to me that the Giant needed the little peoplemore than the Pygmies needed the Giant. For, unless they hadbeen his neighbors and well wishers, and, as we may say, hisplayfellows, Antaeus would not have had a single friend in theworld. No other being like himself had ever been created. Nocreature of his own size had ever talked with him, in thunder-like accents, face to face. When he stood with his head amongthe clouds, he was quite alone, and had been so for hundreds ofyears, and would be so forever. Even if he had met anotherGiant, Antaeus would have fancied the world not big enough fortwo such vast personages, and, instead of being friends withhim, would have fought him till one of the two was killed. Butwith the Pygmies he was the most sportive and humorous, andmerry-hearted, and sweet-tempered old Giant that ever washedhis face in a wet cloud.
His little friends, like all other small people, had a greatopinion of their own importance, and used to assume quite apatronizing air towards the Giant.
"Poor creature!" they said one to another. "He has a very dulltime of it, all by himself; and we ought not to grudge wastinga little of our precious time to amuse him. He is not half sobright as we are, to be sure; and, for that reason, he needs usto look after his comfort and happiness. Let us be kind to theold fellow. Why, if Mother Earth had not been very kind toourselves, we might all have been Giants too."
On all their holidays, the Pygmies had excellent sport withAntaeus. He often stretched himself out at full length on theground, where he looked like the long ridge of a hill; and itwas a good hour's walk, no doubt, for a short-legged Pygmy tojourney from head to foot of the Giant. He would lay down hisgreat hand flat on the grass, and challenge the tallest of themto clamber upon it, and straddle from finger to finger. Sofearless were they, that they made nothing of creeping in amongthe folds of his garments. When his head lay sidewise on theearth, they would march boldly up, and peep into the greatcavern of his mouth, and take it all as a joke (as indeed itwas meant) when Antaeus gave a sudden snap of his jaws, as ifhe were going to swallow fifty of them at once. You would havelaughed to see the children dodging in and out among his hair,or swinging from his beard. It is impossible to tell half ofthe funny tricks that they played with their huge comrade; butI do not know that anything was more curious than when a partyof boys were seen running races on his forehead, to try whichof them could get first round the circle of his one great eye.It was another favorite feat with them to march along thebridge of his nose, and jump down upon his upper lip.
If the truth must be told, they were sometimes as troublesometo the Giant as a swarm of ants or mosquitoes, especially asthey had a fondness for mischief, and liked to prick his skinwith their little swords and lances, to see how thick and toughit was. But Antaeus took it all kindly enough; although, oncein a while, when he happened to be sleepy, he would grumble outa peevish word or two, like the muttering of a tempest, and askthem to have done with their nonsense. A great deal oftener,however, he watched their merriment and gambols until his huge,heavy, clumsy wits were completely stirred up by them; and thenwould he roar out such a tremendous volume of immeasurablelaughter, that the whole nation of Pygmies had to put theirhands to their ears, else it would certainly have deafenedthem.
"Ho! ho! ho!" quoth the Giant, shaking his mountainous sides."What a funny thing it is to be little! If I were not Antaeus,I should like to be a Pygmy, just for the joke's sake."
The Pygmies had but one thing to trouble them in the world.They were constantly at war with the cranes, and had alwaysbeen so, ever since the long- lived Giant could remember. Fromtime to time, very terrible battles had been fought in whichsometimes the little men won the victory, and sometimes thecranes. According to some historians, the Pygmies used to go tothe battle, mounted on the backs of goats and rams; but suchanimals as these must have been far too big for Pygmies to rideupon; so that, I rather suppose, they rode on squirrel-back, orrabbit-back, or rat-back, or perhaps got upon hedgehogs, whoseprickly quills would be very terrible to the enemy. Howeverthis might be, and whatever creatures the Pygmies rode upon, Ido not doubt that they made a formidable appearance, armed withsword and spear, and bow and arrow, blowing their tiny trumpet,and shouting their little war cry. They never failed to exhortone another to fight bravely, and recollect that the world hadits eyes upon them; although, in simple truth, the onlyspectator was the Giant Antaeus, with his one, great, stupideye in the middle of his forehead.
When the two armies joined battle, the cranes would rushforward, flapping their wings and stretching out their necks,and would perhaps snatch up some of the Pygmies crosswise intheir beaks. Whenever this happened, it was truly an awfulspectacle to see those little men of might kicking andsprawling in the air, and at last disappearing down the crane'slong, crooked throat, swallowed up alive. A hero, you know,must hold himself in readiness for any kind of fate; anddoubtless the glory of the thing was a consolation to him, evenin the crane's gizzard. If Antaeus observed that the battle wasgoing hard against his little allies, he generally stoppedlaughing, and ran with mile-long strides to their assistance,flourishing his club aloft and shouting at the cranes, whoquacked and croaked, and retreated as fast as they could. Thenthe Pygmy army would march homeward in triumph, attributing thevictory entirely to their own valor, and to the warlike skilland strategy of whomsoever happened to be captain general; andfor a tedious while afterwards, nothing would be heard of butgrand processions, and public banquets, and brilliantilluminations, and shows of wax-work, with likenesses of thedistinguished officers, as small as life.
In the above-described warfare, if a Pygmy chanced to pluck outa crane's tail feather, it proved a very great feather in hiscap. Once or twice, if you will believe me, a little man wasmade chief ruler of the nation for no other merit in the worldthan bringing home such a feather.
But I have now said enough to let you see what a gallant littlepeople these were, and how happily they and their forefathers,for nobody knows how many generations, had lived with theimmeasurable Giant Antaeus. In the remaining part of the story,I shall tell you of a far more astonishing battle than any thatwas fought between the Pygmies and the cranes.
One day the mighty Antaeus was lolling at full length among hislittle friends. His pine-tree walking stick lay on the ground,close by his side. His head was in one part of the kingdom, andhis feet extended across the boundaries of another part; and hewas taking whatever comfort he could get, while the Pygmiesscrambled over him, and peeped into his cavernous mouth, andplayed among his hair. Sometimes, for a minute or two, theGiant dropped asleep, and snored like the rush of a whirlwind.During one of these little bits of slumber, a Pygmy chanced toclimb upon his shoulder, and took a view around the horizon, asfrom the summit of a hill; and he beheld something, a long wayoff, which made him rub the bright specks of his eyes, and looksharper than before. At first he mistook it for a mountain, andwondered how it had grown up so suddenly out of the earth. Butsoon 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 asAntaeus, it is true, although a very enormous figure, incomparison with Pygmies, and a vast deal bigger than the men wesee nowadays.
When the Pygmy was quite satisfied that his eyes had notdeceived him, he scampered, as fast as his legs would carryhim, to the Giant's ear, and stooping over its cavity, shoutedlustily into it:
"Halloo, brother Antaeus! Get up this minute, and take yourpine-tree walking stick in your hand. Here comes another Giantto have a tussle with you."
"Poh, poh!" grumbled Antaeus, only half awake. "None of yournonsense, my little fellow! Don't you see I'm sleepy? There isnot a Giant on earth for whom I would take the trouble to getup."
But the Pygmy looked again, and now perceived that the strangerwas coming directly towards the prostrate form of Antaeus. Withevery step, he looked less like a blue mountain, and more likean immensely large man. He was soon so nigh, that there couldbe no possible mistake about the matter. There he was, with thesun flaming on his golden helmet, and flashing from hispolished breastplate; he had a sword by his side, and a lion'sskin over his back, and on his right shoulder he carried aclub, which looked bulkier and heavier than the pine-treewalking stick of Antaeus.
By this time, the whole nation of the Pygmies had seen the newwonder, and a million of them set up a shout all together; sothat it really made quite an audible squeak.
"Get up, Antaeus! Bestir yourself, you lazy old Giant! Herecomes another Giant, as strong as you are, to fight with you."
"Nonsense, nonsense!" growled the sleepy Giant. "I'll have mynap out, come who may."
Still the stranger drew nearer; and now the Pygmies couldplainly discern that, if his stature were less lofty than theGiant's, yet his shoulders were even broader. And, in truth,what a pair of shoulders they must have been! As I told you, along while ago, they once upheld the sky. The Pygmies, beingten times as vivacious as their great numskull of a brother,could not abide the Giant's slow movements, and were determinedto have him on his feet. So they kept shouting to him, and evenwent 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 shouldersare the broadest, and we think him the stronger of the two."
Antaeus could not endure to have it said that any mortal washalf so mighty as himself. This latter remark of the Pygmiespricked him deeper than their swords; and, sitting up, inrather a sulky humor, he gave a gape of several yards wide,rubbed his eyes, and finally turned his stupid head in thedirection whither his little friends were eagerly pointing.
No sooner did he set eyes on the stranger, than, leaping on hisfeet, and seizing his walking stick, he strode a mile or two tomeet him; all the while brandishing the sturdy pine tree, sothat it whistled through the air.
"Who are you?" thundered the Giant. "And what do you want inmy dominions?"
There was one strange thing about Antaeus, of which I have notyet told you, lest, hearing of so many wonders all in a lump,you might not believe much more than half of them. You are toknow, then, that whenever this redoubtable Giant touched theground, either with his hand, his foot, or any other part ofhis body, he grew stronger than ever he had been before. TheEarth, you remember, was his mother, and was very fond of him,as being almost the biggest of her children; and so she tookthis method of keeping him always in full vigor. Some personsaffirm that he grew ten times stronger at every touch; otherssay 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 tocipher out how much mightier he was, on sitting down again,than when he first started. And whenever he flung himself onthe earth to take a little repose, even if he got up the verynext instant, he would be as strong as exactly ten just suchgiants as his former self. It was well for the world thatAntaeus happened to be of a sluggish disposition and liked easebetter than exercise; for, if he had frisked about like thePygmies, and touched the earth as often as they did, he wouldlong ago have been strong enough to pull down the sky aboutpeople's ears. But these great lubberly fellows resemblemountains, not only in bulk, but in their disinclination tomove.
Any other mortal man, except the very one whom Antaeus had nowencountered, would have been half frightened to death by theGiant's ferocious aspect and terrible voice. But the strangerdid 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, butas if he had seen a great many Giants before, and this was byno means the biggest of them. In fact, if the Giant had been nobigger than the Pygmies (who stood pricking up their ears, andlooking and listening to what was going forward), the strangercould 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 thethickness of your skull with my walking-stick!"
"You are a very discourteous Giant," answered the strangerquietly, "and I shall probably have to teach you a littlecivility, before we part. As for my name, it is Hercules. Ihave come hither because this is my most convenient road to thegarden of the Hesperides, whither I am going to get three ofthe golden apples for King Eurystheus."
"Caitiff, you shall go no farther!" bellowed Antaeus, puttingon 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 whitherI please?"
"By hitting you a rap with this pine tree here," shoutedAntaeus, scowling so that he made himself the ugliest monsterin Africa. "I am fifty times stronger than you; and now that Istamp my foot upon the ground, I am five hundred timesstronger! I am ashamed to kill such a puny little dwarf as youseem to be. I will make a slave of you, and you shall likewisebe the slave of my brethren here, the Pygmies. So throw downyour 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, strode tower-like towardsthe stranger (ten times strengthened at every step), andfetched a monstrous blow at him with his pine tree, whichHercules caught upon his club; and being more skilful thanAntaeus, he paid him back such a rap upon the sconce, that downtumbled the great lumbering man-mountain, flat upon the ground.The poor little Pygmies (who really never dreamed that anybodyin the world was half so strong as their brother Antaeus) werea good deal dismayed at this. But no sooner was the Giant down,than up he bounced again, with tenfold might, and such afurious visage as was horrible to behold. He aimed another blowat Hercules, but struck awry, being blinded with wrath, andonly hit his poor innocent Mother Earth, who groaned andtrembled at the stroke. His pine tree went so deep into theground, and stuck there so fast, that, before Antaeus could getit out, Hercules brought down his club across his shoulderswith a mighty thwack, which made the Giant roar as if all sortsof intolerable noises had come screeching and rumbling out ofhis immeasurable lungs in that one cry. Away it went, overmountains and valleys, and, for aught I know, was heard on theother side of the African deserts.
As for the Pygmies, their capital city was laid in ruins by theconcussion and vibration of the air; and, though there wasuproar enough without their help, they all set up a shriek outof three millions of little throats, fancying, no doubt, thatthey swelled the Giant's bellow by at least ten times as much.Meanwhile, Antaeus had scrambled upon his feet again, andpulled his pine tree out of the earth; and, all aflame withfury, and more outrageously strong than ever, he ran atHercules, 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, andthe Giant's pine tree was shattered into a thousand splinters,most of which flew among the Pygmies, and did them moremischief than I like to think about. Before Antaeus could getout of the way, Hercules let drive again, and gave him anotherknock- down blow, which sent him heels over head, but servedonly to increase his already enormous and insufferablestrength. As for his rage, there is no telling what a fieryfurnace it had now got to be. His one eye was nothing but acircle of red flame. Having now no weapons but his fists, hedoubled them up (each bigger than a hogshead), smote oneagainst the other, and danced up and down with absolute frenzy,flourishing his immense arms about, as if he meant not merelyto kill Hercules, but to smash the whole world to pieces.
"Come on!" roared this thundering Giant. "Let me hit you butone box on the ear, and you'll never have the headache again."
Now Hercules (though strong enough, as you already know, tohold the sky up) began to be sensible that he should never winthe victory, if he kept on knocking Antaeus down; for, by andby, if he hit him such hard blows, the Giant would inevitably,by the help of his Mother Earth, become stronger than themighty Hercules himself. So, throwing down his club, with whichhe had fought so many dreadful battles, the hero stood ready toreceive his antagonist with naked arms.
"Step forward," cried he. "Since I've broken your pine tree,we'll try which is the better man at a wrestling match."
"Aha! then I'll soon satisfy you," shouted the Giant; for, ifthere was one thing on which he prided himself more thananother, it was his skill in wrestling. "Villain, I'll flingyou where you can never pick yourself up again."
On came Antaeus, hopping and capering with the scorching heatof his rage, and getting new vigor wherewith to wreak hispassion, every time he hopped.
But Hercules, you must understand, was wiser than this numskullof a Giant, and had thought of a way to fight him--huge,earth-born monster that he was--and to conquer him too, inspite of all that his Mother Earth could do for him. Watchinghis opportunity, as the mad Giant made a rush at him, Herculescaught him round the middle with both hands, lifted him highinto the air, and held him aloft overhead.
Just imagine it, my dear little friends. What a spectacle itmust have been, to see this monstrous fellow sprawling in theair, face downwards, kicking out his long legs and wrigglinghis whole vast body, like a baby when its father holds it atarm's length towards the ceiling.
But the most wonderful thing was, that, as soon as Antaeus wasfairly off the earth, he began to lose the vigor which he hadgained by touching it. Hercules very soon perceived that histroublesome enemy was growing weaker, both because he struggledand kicked with less violence, and because the thunder of hisbig voice subsided into a grumble. The truth was that unlessthe Giant touched Mother Earth as often as once in fiveminutes, not only his overgrown strength, but the very breathof his life, would depart from him. Hercules had guessed thissecret; and it may be well for us all to remember it, in casewe should ever have to fight a battle with a fellow likeAntaeus. For these earth-born creatures are only difficult toconquer on their own ground, but may easily be managed if wecan contrive to lift them into a loftier and purer region. Soit proved with the poor Giant, whom I am really a little sorryfor, notwithstanding his uncivil way of treating strangers whocame to visit him.
When his strength and breath were quite gone, Hercules gave hishuge body a toss, and flung it about a mile off, where it fellheavily, and lay with no more motion than a sand hill. It wastoo late for the Giant's Mother Earth to help him now; and Ishould not wonder if his ponderous bones were lying on the samespot to this very day, and were mistaken for those of anuncommonly large elephant.
But, alas me! What a wailing did the poor little Pygmies set upwhen they saw their enormous brother treated in this terriblemanner! If Hercules heard their shrieks, however, he took nonotice, and perhaps fancied them only the shrill, plaintivetwittering of small birds that had been frightened from theirnests by the uproar of the battle between himself and Antaeus.Indeed, his thoughts had been so much taken up with the Giant,that he had never once looked at the Pygmies, nor even knewthat there was such a funny little nation in the world. Andnow, as he had traveled a good way, and was also rather wearywith his exertions in the fight, he spread out his lion's skinon the ground, and, reclining himself upon it, fell fastasleep.
As soon as the Pygmies saw Hercules preparing for a nap, theynodded their little heads at one another, and winked with theirlittle eyes. And when his deep, regular breathing gave themnotice that he was asleep, they assembled together in animmense crowd, spreading over a space of about twenty-sevenfeet square. One of their most eloquent orators (and a valiantwarrior enough, besides, though hardly so good at any otherweapon as he was with his tongue) climbed upon a toadstool,and, from that elevated position, addressed the multitude. Hissentiments were pretty much as follows; or, at all events,something like this was probably the upshot of his speech:
"Tall Pygmies and mighty little men! You and all of us haveseen what a public calamity has been brought to pass, and whatan insult has here been offered to the majesty of our nation.Yonder lies Antaeus, our great friend and brother, slain,within our territory, by a miscreant who took him atdisadvantage, and fought him (if fighting it can be called) ina way that neither man, nor Giant, nor Pygmy ever dreamed offighting, until this hour. And, adding a grievous contumely tothe wrong already done us, the miscreant has now fallen asleepas quietly as if nothing were to be dreaded from our wrath! Itbehooves you, fellow-countrymen, to consider in what aspect weshall stand before the world, and what will be the verdict ofimpartial history, should we suffer these accumulated outragesto go unavenged.
"Antaeus was our brother, born of that same beloved parent towhom we owe the thews and sinews, as well as the courageoushearts, which made him proud of our relationship. He was ourfaithful ally, and fell fighting as much for our nationalrights and immunities as for his own personal ones. We and ourforefathers have dwelt in friendship with him, and heldaffectionate intercourse as man to man, through immemorialgenerations. You remember how often our entire people havereposed in his great shadow, and how our little ones haveplayed at hide-and-seek in the tangles of his hair, and how hismighty footsteps have familiarly gone to and fro among us, andnever trodden upon any of our toes. And there lies this dearbrother-- this sweet and amiable friend--this brave andfaithful ally---this virtuous Giant--this blameless andexcellent Antaeus--dead! Dead! Silent! Powerless! A meremountain of clay! Forgive my tears! Nay, I behold your own.Were we to drown the world with them, could the world blame us?
"But to resume: Shall we, my countrymen, suffer this wickedstranger to depart unharmed, and triumph in his treacherousvictory, among distant communities of the earth? Shall we notrather compel him to leave his bones here on our soil, by theside of our slain brother's bones? so that, while one skeletonshall remain as the everlasting monument of our sorrow, theother shall endure as long, exhibiting to the whole human racea terrible example of Pygmy vengeance! Such is the question. Iput it to you in full confidence of a response that shall beworthy of our national character, and calculated to increase,rather than diminish, the glory which our ancestors havetransmitted to us, and which we ourselves have proudlyvindicated in our warfare with the cranes."
The orator was here interrupted by a burst of irrepressibleenthusiasm; every individual Pygmy crying out that the nationalhonor must be preserved at all hazards. He bowed, and, making agesture for silence, wound up his harangue in the followingadmirable manner:
"It only remains for us, then, to decide whether we shall carryon the war in our national capacity--one united people againsta common enemy--or whether some champion, famous in formerfights, shall be selected to defy the slayer of our brotherAntaeus to single combat. In the latter case, though notunconscious that there may be taller men among you, I herebyoffer myself for that enviable duty. And believe me, dearcountrymen, whether I live or die, the honor of this greatcountry, and the fame bequeathed us by our heroic progenitors,shall suffer no diminution in my hands. Never, while I canwield this sword, of which I now fling away thescabbard--never, never, never, even if the crimson hand thatslew the great Antaeus shall lay me prostrate, like him, on thesoil which I give my life to defend."
So saying, this valiant Pygmy drew out his weapon (which wasterrible to behold, being as long as the blade of a penknife),and sent the scabbard whirling over the heads of the multitude.His speech was followed by an uproar of applause, as itspatriotism and self-devotion unquestionably deserved; and theshouts and clapping of hands would have been greatly prolonged,had they not been rendered quite inaudible by a deeprespiration, vulgarly called a snore, from the sleepingHercules.
It was finally decided that the whole nation of Pygmies shouldset to work to destroy Hercules; not, be it understood, fromany doubt that a single champion would be capable of puttinghim to the sword, but because he was a public enemy, and allwere desirous of sharing in the glory of his defeat. There wasa debate whether the national honor did not demand that aherald should be sent with a trumpet, to stand over the ear ofHercules, and after blowing a blast right into it, to defy himto the combat by formal proclamation. But two or threevenerable and sagacious Pygmies, well versed in state affairs,gave it as their opinion that war already existed, and that itwas their rightful privilege to take the enemy by surprise.Moreover, if awakened, and allowed to get upon his feet,Hercules might happen to do them a mischief before he could bebeaten down again. For, as these sage counselors remarked, thestranger's club was really very big, and had rattled like athunderbolt against the skull of Antaeus. So the Pygmiesresolved to set aside all foolish punctilios, and assail theirantagonist at once.
Accordingly, all the fighting men of the nation took theirweapons, and went boldly up to Hercules, who still lay fastasleep, little dreaming of the harm which the Pygmies meant todo him. A body of twenty thousand archers marched in front,with their little bows all ready, and the arrows on the string.The same number were ordered to clamber upon Hercules, somewith spades to dig his eyes out, and others with bundles ofhay, and all manner of rubbish with which they intended to plugup his mouth and nostrils, so that he might perish for lack ofbreath. These last, however, could by no means perform theirappointed duty; inasmuch as the enemy's breath rushed out ofhis nose in an obstreperous hurricane and whirlwind, which blewthe Pygmies away as fast as they came nigh. It was foundnecessary, therefore, to hit upon some other method of carryingon the war.
After holding a council, the captains ordered their troops tocollect sticks, straws, dry weeds, and whatever combustiblestuff they could find, and make a pile of it, heaping it higharound the head of Hercules. As a great many thousand Pygmieswere employed in this task, they soon brought together severalbushels of inflammatory matter, and raised so tall a heap,that, mounting on its summit, they were quite upon a level withthe sleeper's face. The archers, meanwhile, were stationedwithin bow shot, with orders to let fly at Hercules the instantthat he stirred. Everything being in readiness, a torch wasapplied to the pile, which immediately burst into flames, andsoon waxed hot enough to roast the enemy, had he but chosen tolie still. A Pygmy, you know, though so very small, might setthe world on fire, just as easily as a Giant could; so thatthis was certainly the very best way of dealing with their foe,provided they could have kept him quiet while the conflagrationwas going forward.
But no sooner did Hercules begin to be scorched, than up hestarted, with his hair in a red blaze.
"What's all this?" he cried, bewildered with sleep, and staringabout him as if he expected to see another Giant.
At that moment the twenty thousand archers twanged theirbowstrings, and the arrows came whizzing, like so many wingedmosquitoes, right into the face of Hercules. But I doubtwhether more than half a dozen of them punctured the skin,which was remarkably tough, as you know the skin of a hero hasgood need to be.
"Villain!" shouted all the Pygmies at once. "You have killedthe Giant Antaeus, our great brother, and the ally of ournation. We declare bloody war against you, and will slay you onthe spot."
Surprised at the shrill piping of so many little voices,Hercules, after putting out the conflagration of his hair,gazed all round about, but could see nothing. At last, however,looking narrowly on the ground, he espied the innumerableassemblage of Pygmies at his feet. He stooped down, and takingup the nearest one between his thumb and finger, set him on thepalm of his left hand, and held him at a proper distance forexamination. It chanced to be the very identical Pygmy who hadspoken from the top of the toadstool, and had offered himselfas a champion to meet Hercules in single combat.
"What in the world, my little fellow," ejaculated Hercules,"may you be?"
"I am your enemy," answered the valiant Pygmy, in his mightiestsqueak. "You have slain the enormous Antaeus, our brother bythe mother's side, and for ages the faithful ally of ourillustrious nation. We are determined to put you to death; andfor my own part, I challenge you to instant battle, on equalground."
Hercules was so tickled with the Pygmy's big words and warlikegestures, that he burst into a great explosion of laughter, andalmost dropped the poor little mite of a creature off the palmof his hand, through the ecstasy and convulsion of hismerriment.
"Upon my word," cried he, "I thought I had seen wonders beforeto-day--hydras with nine heads, stags with golden horns,six-legged men, three-headed dogs, giants with furnaces intheir stomachs, and nobody knows what besides. But here, on thepalm of my hand, stands a wonder that outdoes them all! Yourbody, my little friend, is about the size of an ordinary man'sfinger. Pray, how big may your soul be?"
"As big as your own!" said the Pygmy.
Hercules was touched with the little man's dauntless courage,and could not help acknowledging such a brotherhood with him asone hero feels for another.
"My good little people," said he, making a low obeisance to thegrand nation, "not for all the world would I do an intentionalinjury to such brave fellows as you! Your hearts seem to me soexceedingly great, that, upon my honor, I marvel how your smallbodies can contain them. I sue for peace, and, as a conditionof it, will take five strides, and be out of your kingdom atthe sixth. Good-bye. I shall pick my steps carefully, for fearof treading upon some fifty of you, without knowing it. Ha, ha,ha! Ho, ho, ho! For once, Hercules acknowledges himselfvanquished."
Some writers say, that Hercules gathered up the whole race ofPygmies in his lion's skin, and carried them home to Greece,for the children of King Eurystheus to play with. But this is amistake. He left them, one and all, within their own territory,where, for aught I can tell, their descendants are alive to thepresent day, building their little houses, cultivating theirlittle fields, spanking their little children, waging theirlittle warfare with the cranes, doing their little business,whatever it may be, and reading their little histories ofancient times. In those histories, perhaps, it stands recorded,that, a great many centuries ago, the valiant Pygmies avengedthe death of the Giant Antaeus by scaring away the mightyHercules.
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