Panurge, whose eyes and cars had been stretched wide open ever since the beginning of the fight, shouted out to the King and the Giants: "By Heaven! if we don't get them apart, they will hurt one another."
But the Giants, on their side, were in high chuckles. When Carpalim wanted to get up to help his master, one of them said:—
"By Golfarim!"—who is the nephew of Mahomet,—"if thou stir from here, I shall tuck thee in my belt."
Meanwhile Pantagruel, having lost his staff, caught hold of the little stump that was left of the mast, striking blows, here and there, with it on the Giant's body. But the stump was so short that no harm was done. Of course, all this time, Loupgarou was puffing and blowing hard to pull his mace out from the rock. He at last succeeded. All the time he was getting ready to swing it once more, he was bawling out: "Villain! this time I shall surely kill thee! Never after this shalt thou make honest people thirsty!" In trying to get his mace in proper position to strike, he was, of course, bending a little.
Here was one more chance for Pantagruel; and Pantagruel took it.
While Loupgarou had his body half-bent, Pantagruel gave him such a kick in the stomach that he made him fall backwards, heels over head, and as he began to drag him along the ground, Loupgarou was bleeding at the throat, and could only find breath to call out three times: "Mahomet! Mahomet!! Mahomet!!!"
DEATH OF LOUPGAROU.
The moment they heard that cry, up started all the Giants to help their leader; but now came Panurge's time to interfere.
"Gentlemen, don't you go, if you have the slightest faith in me. My master is mad, and is striking out blindly. He may hurt you in his anger."