“Rise! stunted, misshapen thing! Rise! thou wafer man, thou slice of humanity with cleft edges!”
It was not so much the thundering tones of this strange, human monster which caused me to sit bolt upright, rub my eyes and make a superhuman effort to collect my sadly scattered senses, as it was the caresses of my faithful Bulger, who was running from one side of me to the other, showering kisses upon my face and hands and whining piteously.
After a hard struggle the shadows were lifted from my eyes. My heart sank within me at sight of that wall of living boulders encircling us, with their fierce visages turned, half in wonder, half in rage, upon the, to them, two funny beings as utterly unlike themselves as each other.
But love is always stronger than fear.
Stretching out my arms and drawing Bulger close to my breast, I cried out:
“O, Bulger! do I really live? Am I not still the object of some demon’s sportive malice?”
At sound of my voice the round-bodied monsters broke out into a hideous chorus of deep, rumbling laughter, during which their bodies rolled from side to side.
Then, as they pressed wildly forward, with fierce ejaculations of anger or impatience, it seemed as if Bulger and I had been only saved from one death to be set face to face with another.
“Alas! is there no power,” thought I, “to save us from the furious impatience of these reckless monsters?”
Suddenly a terrible voice sounded loud above the din: