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