The storm came nearer. The thunder pealed and the lightning-flashes crackled. Those who lived close came running to Two-Legs’ house in great alarm:
“Father Two-Legs, what shall we do?” they cried. “God’s wrath is upon us.... Look, look, His fire has struck the house yonder. Now it’s burning; it is all in flames!”
Two-Legs did not look at the blazing house, but up at the clouds, where the thunder pealed and the lightning-flashes darted:
“That is not God’s wrath,” he said. “It is a strange force up there in the clouds ... stronger than the wind ... stronger than Steam. Oh, if I could catch it and compel it to serve me, as I compel the ox and the horse and the others!”
They heard what he said and looked at one another in affright.
Much as they honoured and loved him, they thought that this was madman’s talk. For how could any one dream of taking the terrible lightning into his service?
“Two-Legs has grown old,” said one to the other. “He is in his dotage and does not know what he is saying.”
Two-Legs did not listen to them, but continued to gaze at the storm overhead:
“Look! See how the lightning darts!” he said. “In a second, it darts from one horizon to the other!... Oh, if I could put it into my carriage!”
They recoiled from him, so frightened were they at his words.