"Well, I'll take a few giant men if I can find them. Tell him I understand there is a tribe of giants in this country. Ask him if he ever heard of them."
San Pedro hesitated. He looked at Tom, and the young inventor fancied that there was a tinge of white on the swarthy face of the chief mule driver. But San Pedro translated the question.
It's effect on the chief was strange. He half leaped from his seat, and stared at Tom. Then he uttered a cry—a cry of fear—and spoke rapidly.
"What does he say?" asked Tom of San Pedro eagerly, when the chief had ceased speaking.
"He say—he say," began the mule driver and the words seemed to stick in his throat—"he say there are giants—many miles to the north. Terrible big men—very cruel—and they are fearful. Once they came here and took some of his people away. He is afraid of them. We are all afraid of them," and San Pedro looked around apprehensively, as though he might see one of the giants stalking into the chief's hut at any moment.
"Ask him how many miles north?" asked Tom, hardly able to conceal his delight. The giants had no terrors for him.
"Two weeks' journey," translated San Pedro.
