“Then come on. I’ll help you.”
With that Crip led off, limpingly. I followed by his side, amazed at his speed.
Soon we came to the place. Each of us seized a bit of the débris, and away we went to deposit it far from the entrance to our home.
“I see where your worm came from,” Crip observed. “There’s a hole in the board, and he found it, then crept in stealthily and hid in this little heap of rubbish. I’m a bad guesser, or we’ll find another here any minute.”
And sure enough. Crip seized a piece of comb, and, upon dragging it away, out sprang another worm, even more forbidding than the other.
Crip was the first to spy him, and, valiant warrior that he was, seized him instantly. I attacked him, also, with all my might. But the worm, a full-grown one, and twice as big as both of us, simply flung us about and thrashed us unmercifully. He quite knocked me to bits; but I never relaxed my hold, nor did Crip. It was a poor showing that we were making, when several guards rushed to our assistance. The fight was soon over and the monster lay still.
“He’s dead,” said one of the new-comers. “Out with him.”
We all fell to, dragging him along. It took the combined energies of four of us to move his huge form.
At last we arrived at the edge of our alighting-board, and down we dropped him to the tender mercies of the black ants, who immediately swarmed over him. One could almost imagine that they thanked us for the delicacy we had tossed them. I wondered what the ants thought of us, if they thought at all. I had become particularly interested in those big red ones that ran along the tiny trail skirting our home.