CHAPTER XII. FRIENDS AND FOES

Coming, in one of the channels, upon what seemed a little shrub, the

outlying picket, I trusted, of an army behind it, I knelt to look at

it closer. It bore a small fruit, which, as I did not recognise it,

I feared to gather and eat. Little I thought that I was watched from

behind the rocks by hundreds of eyes eager with the question whether I

would or would not take it.

I came to another plant somewhat bigger, then to another larger still,

and at length to clumps of a like sort; by which time I saw that they

were not shrubs but dwarf-trees. Before I reached the bank of this

second branch of the river-bed, I found the channels so full of them

that it was with difficulty I crossed such as I could not jump. In one

I heard a great rush, as of a multitude of birds from an ivied wall, but

saw nothing.

I came next to some large fruit-bearing trees, but what they bore looked

coarse. They stood on the edge of a hollow, which evidently had once

been the basin of a lake. From the left a forest seemed to flow into

and fill it; but while the trees above were of many sorts, those in the

hollow were almost entirely fruit-bearing.

I went a few yards down the slope of grass mingled with moss, and

stretched myself upon it weary. A little farther down stood a tiny tree

full of rosiest apples no bigger than small cherries, its top close to

my hand; I pulled and ate one of them. Finding it delicious, I was in

the act of taking another, when a sudden shouting of children, mingled

with laughter clear and sweet as the music of a brook, startled me with

delight.

“He likes our apples! He likes our apples! He’s a good giant! He’s a

good giant!” cried many little voices.

“He’s a giant!” objected one.

“He IS rather big,” assented another, “but littleness isn’t everything!

It won’t keep you from growing big and stupid except you take care!”

I rose on my elbow and stared. Above and about and below me stood a

multitude of children, apparently of all ages, some just able to run

alone, and some about twelve or thirteen. Three or four seemed older.

They stood in a small knot, a little apart, and were less excited

than the rest. The many were chattering in groups, declaiming and

contradicting, like a crowd of grown people in a city, only with greater

merriment, better manners, and more sense.

I gathered that, by the approach of my hand to a second apple, they knew

that I liked the first; but how from that they argued me good, I did not

see, nor wondered that one of them at least should suggest caution. I

did not open my mouth, for I was afraid of frightening them, and sure

I should learn more by listening than by asking questions. For I

understood nearly all they said--at which I was not surprised: to

understand is not more wonderful than to love.

There came a movement and slight dispersion among them, and presently a

sweet, innocent-looking, lovingly roguish little fellow handed me a huge

green apple. Silence fell on the noisy throng; all waited expectant.

“Eat, good giant,” he said.

I sat up, took the apple, smiled thanks, and would have eaten; but the

moment I bit into it, I flung it far away.

Again rose a shout of delight; they flung themselves upon me, so as

nearly to smother me; they kissed my face and hands; they laid hold of

my legs; they clambered about my arms and shoulders, embracing my head

and neck. I came to the ground at last, overwhelmed with the lovely

little goblins.

“Good, good giant!” they cried. “We knew you would come! Oh you dear,

good, strong giant!”

The babble of their talk sprang up afresh, and ever the jubilant shout

would rise anew from hundreds of clear little throats.

Again came a sudden silence. Those around me drew back; those atop of me

got off and began trying to set me on my feet. Upon their sweet faces,

concern had taken the place of merriment.

“Get up, good giant!” said a little girl. “Make haste! much haste! He

saw you throw his apple away!”

Before she ended, I was on my feet. She stood pointing up the slope. On

the brow of it was a clownish, bad-looking fellow, a few inches taller

than myself. He looked hostile, but I saw no reason to fear him, for he

had no weapon, and my little friends had vanished every one.

He began to descend, and I, in the hope of better footing and position,

to go up. He growled like a beast as he turned toward me.

Reaching a more level spot, I stood and waited for him. As he came near,

he held out his hand. I would have taken it in friendly fashion, but

he drew it back, threatened a blow, and held it out again. Then I

understood him to claim the apple I had flung away, whereupon I made a

grimace of dislike and a gesture of rejection.

He answered with a howl of rage that seemed to say, “Do you dare tell me

my apple was not fit to eat?”

“One bad apple may grow on the best tree,” I said.

Whether he perceived my meaning I cannot tell, but he made a stride

nearer, and I stood on my guard. He delayed his assault, however, until

a second giant, much like him, who had been stealing up behind me, was

close enough, when he rushed upon me. I met him with a good blow in the

face, but the other struck me on the back of the head, and between them

I was soon overpowered.

They dragged me into the wood above the valley, where their tribe

lived--in wretched huts, built of fallen branches and a few stones. Into

one of these they pushed me, there threw me on the ground, and kicked

me. A woman was present, who looked on with indifference.

I may here mention that during my captivity I hardly learned to

distinguish the women from the men, they differed so little. Often I

wondered whether I had not come upon a sort of fungoid people, with just

enough mind to give them motion and the expressions of anger and greed.

Their food, which consisted of tubers, bulbs, and fruits, was to me

inexpressibly disagreeable, but nothing offended them so much as to show

dislike to it. I was cuffed by the women and kicked by the men because I

would not swallow it.

I lay on the floor that night hardly able to move, but I slept a good

deal, and woke a little refreshed. In the morning they dragged me to the

valley, and tying my feet, with a long rope, to a tree, put a flat stone

with a saw-like edge in my left hand. I shifted it to the right; they

kicked me, and put it again in the left; gave me to understand that I

was to scrape the bark off every branch that had no fruit on it; kicked

me once more, and left me.

I set about the dreary work in the hope that by satisfying them I should

be left very much to myself--to make my observations and choose my time

for escape. Happily one of the dwarf-trees grew close by me, and

every other minute I plucked and ate a small fruit, which wonderfully

refreshed and strengthened me.