help milk it; but I wouldn't; it was too risky. The sex wasn't right,
and we hadn't any ladder anyway. Then she wanted to ride it, and look
at the scenery. Thirty or forty feet of its tail was lying on the
ground, like a fallen tree, and she thought she could climb it, but she
was mistaken; when she got to the steep place it was too slick and down
she came, and would have hurt herself but for me.

Was she satisfied now? No. Nothing ever satisfies her but
demonstration; untested theories are not in her line, and she won't have
them. It is the right spirit, I concede it; it attracts me; I feel the
influence of it; if I were with her more I think I should take it up
myself. Well, she had one theory remaining about this colossus: she
thought that if we could tame it and make him friendly we could stand in
the river and use him for a bridge. It turned out that he was already
plenty tame enough--at least as far as she was concerned--so she tried
her theory, but it failed: every time she got him properly placed in
the river and went ashore to cross over him, he came out and followed
her around like a pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do
that.



Tuesday--Wednesday--Thursday--and today: all without seeing him. It is
a long time to be alone; still, it is better to be alone than unwelcome.



FRIDAY--I HAD to have company--I was made for it, I think--so I made
friends with the animals. They are just charming, and they have the
kindest disposition and the politest ways; they never look sour, they