Thence he passed into the great desert, and traveled on until one day he reached a pile of human skulls, nearly as big as a mountain. While wondering at the sight, a shadow fell over him, and a big voice said—
“Yes, you may well look at that! I have nearly enough now.”
It was a giant, nearly as high as the heap of skulls. “And who are you?” asked Hercules; “and what are these?”
“I am Antæus,” answered the giant; “and the Sea is my father and the Earth is my mother. I am collecting skulls in order to build a temple with them upon my mother the Earth to my father the Sea.”
“And how,” asked Hercules, “have you managed to get so many?”
“By killing everybody I see, and adding his skull to the heap—as I am going to add yours.”
So saying, he seized Hercules to make an end of him. And amazed enough the giant was when he himself was dashed to the ground with force enough to break any ordinary bones.
Antæus, however, though astonished, was not in the least hurt; so that it was the turn of Hercules to be surprised. Again they closed, and again Hercules threw him, with still greater strength; and they closed again.
And again and again Hercules threw him, but every time with greater difficulty. The more he was thrown, the stronger the giant became; he rose from every fall fresher than before. Plainly, if this went on, Antæus would be beaten until he became stronger than Hercules, and would end by winning.
It seemed very strange that the more a man was dashed to the ground the fresher and stronger he should grow. But—