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 all 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, we'll try
which is the better man at a wrestling match."
"Aha! then I'll soon satisfy you," shouted the Giant; for, if there was
one thing on which he prided himself more than another, it was his skill
in wrestling. "Villain, I'll fling you where you can never pick yourself
up again."
On came Antaeus, hopping and capering with the scorching heat of his
rage, and getting new vigor wherewith to wreak his passion, every time
he hopped.
But Hercules, you must understand, was wiser than this numskull of a
Giant, and had thought of a way to fight him—huge, earth-born monster
that he was—and to conquer him too, in spite of all that his Mother
Earth could do for him. Watching his opportunity, as the mad Giant made
a rush at him, Hercules caught him round the middle with both hands,
lifted him high into the air, and held him aloft overhead.
Just imagine it, my dear little friends. What a spectacle it must have
been, to see this monstrous fellow sprawling in the air, face downwards,
kicking out his long legs and wriggling his whole vast body, like a baby
when its father holds it at arm's length towards the ceiling.
But the most wonderful thing was, that, as soon as Antaeus was fairly
off the earth, he began to lose the vigor which he had gained by
touching it. Hercules very soon perceived that his troublesome enemy was
growing weaker, both because he struggled and kicked with less violence,
and because the thunder of his big voice subsided into a grumble. The
truth was that unless the Giant touched Mother Earth as often as once
in five minutes, not only his overgrown strength, but the very breath of
his life, would depart from him. Hercules had guessed this secret; and
it may be well for us all to remember it, in case we should ever have
to fight a battle with a fellow like Antaeus. For these earth-born
creatures are only difficult to conquer on their own ground, but may
easily be managed if we can contrive to lift them into a loftier and
purer region. So it proved with the poor Giant, whom I am really a
little sorry for, notwithstanding his uncivil way of treating strangers
who came to visit him.
When his strength and breath were quite gone, Hercules gave his huge
body a toss, and flung it about a mile off, where it fell heavily,
and lay with no more motion than a sand hill. It was too late for the
Giant's Mother Earth to help him now; and I should not wonder if his
ponderous bones were lying on the same spot to this very day, and were
mistaken for those of an uncommonly large elephant.
But, alas me! What a wailing did the poor little Pygmies set up when
they saw their enormous brother treated in this terrible manner! If
Hercules heard their shrieks, however, he took no notice, and perhaps
fancied them only the shrill, plaintive twittering of small birds that
had been frightened from their nests 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 knew
that there was such a funny little nation in the world. And now, as he
had traveled a good way, and was also rather weary with his exertions in
the fight, he spread out his lion's skin on the ground, and, reclining
himself upon it, fell fast asleep.
As soon as the Pygmies saw Hercules preparing for a nap, they nodded
their little heads at one another, and winked with their little eyes.
And when his deep, regular breathing gave them notice that he was
asleep, they assembled together in an immense crowd, spreading over
a space of about twenty-seven feet square. One of their most eloquent
orators (and a valiant warrior enough, besides, though hardly so good
at any other weapon as he was with his tongue) climbed upon a toadstool,
and, from that elevated position, addressed the multitude. His
sentiments 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 have seen what
a public calamity has been brought to pass, and what an 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 at disadvantage, and fought him (if fighting it can be
called) in a way that neither man, nor Giant, nor Pygmy ever dreamed of
fighting, until this hour. And, adding a grievous contumely to the wrong
already done us, the miscreant has now fallen asleep as quietly as
if nothing were to be dreaded from our wrath! It behooves you,
fellow-countrymen, to consider in what aspect we shall stand before
the world, and what will be the verdict of impartial history, should we
suffer these accumulated outrages to go unavenged.
"Antaeus was our brother, born of that same beloved parent to whom we
owe the thews and sinews, as well as the courageous hearts, which
made him proud of our relationship. He was our faithful ally, and fell
fighting as much for our national rights and immunities as for his own
personal ones. We and our forefathers have dwelt in friendship with
him, and held affectionate intercourse as man to man, through immemorial
generations. You remember how often our entire people have reposed in
his great shadow, and how our little ones have played at hide-and-seek
in the tangles of his hair, and how his mighty footsteps have familiarly
gone to and fro among us, and never trodden upon any of our toes. And
there lies this dear brother—this sweet and amiable friend—this brave
and faithful ally—this virtuous Giant—this blameless and excellent
Antaeus—dead! Dead! Silent! Powerless! A mere mountain of clay! Forgive
my tears! Nay, I behold your own.
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