He had only got as far as this when crash-he fell into the pit! So there was a break indeed such an one that it caused the very foundations of the Mount to shake.īut Jack shook with laughter. You shall pay dearly for your tantivys, I’ll take you and broil you whole for break-” Of course this woke the giant, who rushed in a rage out of his cave, and seeing little Jack, fair and square blowing away at his horn, as calm and cool as may be, he became still more angry, and made for the disturber of his rest, bawling out, “I’ll teach you to wake a giant, you little whipper-snapper. Just as he would have done had he been hunting a fox.
#Your story hour yellow jack the giant killer of men full
So, just as dawn was breaking, he planted himself fair and square on the side of the pit that was farthest from the giant’s cave, raised the horn to his lips, and with full blast sounded: This he covered with long thin sticks and straw, sprinkling a little loose mould over all to make it look like solid ground. It was winter-time, and having got himself a horn, a pickaxe, and a shovel, he went over to the Mount in the dark evening, set to work, and before dawn he had dug a pit, no less than twenty-two feet deep and nigh as big across. “Then will I undertake the task,” said Jack, and forthwith set about the business. “Every whit of it?” quoth Jack, who was never to be done. “The treasures of the Giant’s Cave,” quoth they. Then Jack, blithe and gay, went up to the magistrates, and with a fine courtesy-for he was ever polite-asked them what reward would be given to him who killed the giant Cormoran. Women were weeping, men were cursing, and the magistrates were sitting in Council over what was to be done. It so happened that one market day Jack, then quite a young lad, found the town upside down over some new exploit of the giant’s. Now this had gone on for long years, and the poor folk of Cornwall were in despair, for none could put an end to the giant Cormoran. As it was, he seized their cattle by the score, carrying off half-a-dozen fat oxen on his back at a time, and hanging sheep and pigs to his waistbelt like bunches of dip-candles.
The poor folk and the rich folk alike ran out of their houses and hid themselves when they heard the swish-swash of his big feet in the water for if he saw them, he would think nothing of broiling half-a-dozen or so of them for breakfast. He lived in a cave amidst the rocky Mount, and when he desired victuals he would wade across the tides to the mainland and furnish himself forth with all that came in his way. He was full eighteen feet in height, some three yards about his middle, of a grim fierce face, and he was the terror of all the country-side. Michael in Cornwall was the fastness of a hugeous giant whose name was Cormoran. Now Jack was brisk and ready of such a lively wit that none nor nothing could worst him. When good King Arthur reigned with Guinevere his Queen, there lived, near the Land’s End in Cornwall, a farmer who had one only son called Jack.
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