Three good giants

was willing enough, and they drank so much of the delicious wine that, at the end, there was not a single drop of the two hundred and thirty-seven puncheons left except what was to be found in one leathern-flask, which Panurge grabbed for his own private use, and hid away in his pocket.

When the wine was gone, Pantagruel called out to Carpalim : " Get thee into the city, scrambling over the walls like a cat, as thou knowest well how to do. Tell our people in the city that now is the very tune for them to attack their foes, who are weak. As soon as thou art through with them, seize a lighted torch, run through the streets, and set fire everywhere. Don't forget to cry out with thy loudest voice : * Fire ! Fire !' and skip from the camp."

Without another word, Carpalini was on the road, leaping and bounding for the city. Everything was done as Pantagruel had commanded. All the army in the city — that part which was not drunk — rushed out of the walls to meet the foe, and found — nobody. Carpa-lim, meanwhile, ran through all the tents and pavilions, setting fire to each one. Of course, in doing so, he had now and then to step over the captains and other officers who had eaten of Pantagruel's paste, but he stepped so lightly, and they were so drunk, that they never knew it. The tents caught fire so quickly that poor Carpalim — if it had not been for his wonderful agility — would have been roasted alive, like the captains, pashas, and guardsmen who were snoring in their tents when he set fire to them.

When the army, that had been silly enough, when Carpalim shouted, to run outside of the walls, reached the plain and found no enemy, they wandered about in great confusion, and, being very tired, at last returned to the city and lay outside of the burning tents, and went to sleep with their mouths open. Nobody thought of taking care of the burning gates. It was long after midnight when Pantagruel entered the city, and as he marched through the streets he would take bags of salt out of the ship, which he carried around his waist, and, as he passed the sleepers, would drop the salt into their open mouths. Many died from choking; and the rest of those who were lucky enough not to be burnt, when they woke next morning, thought they had enough salt in their mouths to last them for a lifetime. All they said as they got up and humbly went about their business, wetting their tongues every now and then to get the vile, bitter taste out, was : —

"O Pantagruel, thou hast made our throats burn worse than before !"

CHAPTER XXXII. THE WONDERFUL WAY IN WHICH PANTAGRUEL DISPOSED OF THE GIANT LOUPGAROU AND HIS TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY-NINE GIANTS.

AS soon as the body-guard of Giants saw flames bursting from the tents, all they could think of doing was to snatch up their little King Anarchus, tie him to the neck of one of them, and get out of the burning city as fast as their long legs could take them. Panurge, as usual, was the first to see the Giants racing out of the city. "My lord," he said, "just look at those big rogues over there ! All you have to do is to charge with that mast you have in your hand. You can have no better way to prove your skill. We,

I do not lack courage.

But on our part, are not going to fail you."

" Ho ! ho ! " answered Pantagruel, even Hercules did not dare fight against two, and here thou wouldst have me fight against three hundred! "

"What! " retorted Panurge, while his tip-tilted nose curled higher in the air than usual, " does Your Highness seriously mean to compare yourself with Hercules ? God has given you stronger teeth and stouter limbs than ever Hercules had." Panurge was going to say a good deal more, but here came Loupgarou with all his Giants.

When Loupgarou saw that Pantagruel was alone, — for, after all, to the eyes of giants common-sized men, like Panurge, Epistemon, Carpalim, and Eusthenes, must have looked like so many dwarfs, — he felt sure that he would be able to make away with him. In fact, he was so sure that he turned to his Giants, laughing all the time so as to show all his big, cruel, yellow teeth. "By Mahomet! if any of you dare fight with that great braggart over there, you shall die at these hands ! I, alone, wish to fight with him ! Meanwhile, you shall have rare sport in looking on."

Laughing loudly, the other Giants fell back a short distance, where the wine and victuals had been left, carrying their little King along with them. They had hardly got there when the cunning Panurge and his friends, putting on a most humble, miserable look, crawled up, saying: -

'We surrender, good comrades. We have no taste for war. All we ask is to join with you in feasting while our masters are fighting."

The poor little King was willing; the Giants were willing; and so they began to feast, Panurge and the others along with them.