the strange way in which pantagruel obtained a victory over the thirsty people.
when the trophy had been raised, pantagruel had his prisoner brought before him and sent him away with these words:—
"get thee back to thy king in his camp, and tell him what thou hast seen. be sure you tell him to be ready to welcome me to-morrow, at noon. all i am waiting for are my galleys, which, are on the sea. as soon as they come, which will be to-morrow morning, at the very latest, i shall prove to thy king, by eighteen hundred thousand men and seven thousand giants,—each of those giants taller and larger than thou see'st me here,—that he has been an idiot to attack my country."
of course, in all this talk about having an army on the sea, pantagruel was only trying to frighten the king of the thirsty people.
the prisoner made haste to assure pantagruel that he was his humble slave, and that he would be only too glad, not only if he never should see his people again, but, also, if he should be allowed to fight under the prince against them. pantagruel shook his great head at this. no! no! he must leave at once, and do what he had been told to do. he gave him at the same time a box full of a strange paste, made with some grains of black chameleon-thistle, steeped in brandy, ordering him to place this in the hands of his king, and say to him that, if he could eat even one ounce of the mixture without wanting to drink after it, he would be able to resist pantagruel and his whole army without fear.
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the king of the thirsty people.
then the prisoner began to wring his hands, begging pantagruel in the hour of battle to have pity on him.
"after thou hast announced all to thy king," answered pantagruel, gravely, "put all thy trust in god, and he will never forsake thee. look at me! i am, as thou canst see, mighty. i can put millions of troops in the field. yet i place no reliance on my strength or my skill; but all my trust is in god, my protector, who never abandons those who have their faith in him. go, then," he added more kindly, "and, if thou wishest no evil to happen to thee, turn thy back on bad company."
when the prisoner had at last got away, the good giant turned to his friends, saying: "my children, you know that i do not tell lies; but it is always lawful in war to deceive an enemy. this is why i have made that prisoner believe we had armies on the sea, and, also, that we were not going to make an assault on their camp till to-morrow at noon. but i have sent a paste that will put them all to sleep to-night, so that they will not be prepared to receive my attack to-morrow, at noon. my real purpose is to attack their camp in the hour of their first nap."
but the prisoner—knowing nothing of all this side-talk—walked quickly towards the city, which he soon reached, as you already know it was only three leagues from the coast. as soon as he saw the king, he began the story of how there had come a great giant, who had routed and caused to be cruelly roasted alive, six hundred and fifty-nine horsemen; and how he, alone of all the troop, had escaped to bring the terrible news. he then went on to state that that wonderful giant had charged him to say that he would look on his majesty at dinner-time, and wanted him to make ready for him. then he presented the box of paste, but, just as soon as the king had swallowed one spoonful, his throat started to burn, and, after a while, his very tongue began to peel off. what was to be done? there was only one way out of the trouble, and that was for the king to drink—drink—drink, without stopping! the result was that everybody was bringing the king wine, and pouring it down his royal throat; and if ever he stopped, the royal throat began to burn just as bad as ever. for the thirsty people, there could be nothing finer than such a sweetmeat, that would make them drink, and drink, and drink again. nothing would do the pashas, captains, and guardsmen but that they should try the paste to see whether it would produce such thirst in them; and the moment they did so they were in the same fix as their king, and they all drank so long that a rumor ran through the camp that the prisoner had come back, and that a great attack was to be made the next day by some terrible enemy, of whose name nobody knew. what could be better, then, than to enjoy themselves the night before? so the captains and the guards began to drink, and clink glasses, and give healths, until they got stupidly drunk, and lay, here and there, where they fell, as so many swine all about the camp.
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the soldiers try pantagruel's paste.
what was pantagruel doing in the meanwhile?
as soon as he found that he could no longer see the prisoner trudging along the road—and remember the eyesight of giants is just so much keener than that of common men, as their bodies are stronger—pantagruel pulled out the mast from his ship, which he carried in his hand like a pilgrim's staff, first putting in the hollow of it two hundred and thirty-seven puncheons of white wine of anjou. the next thing he did was to tie to his waistband the bark itself, filled with salt, which he carried as readily as women going to market carry their little baskets of vegetables. when they got near the enemy's camp, panurge said: "my lord, do you wish to do a wise thing? get that white wine of anjou down from that mast, and let us drink to our success." panurge was right in this, because, strong as pantagruel was, such a weight of wine would have only troubled him if he had to fight. he was willing enough, and they drank so much of the delicious wine that, at the end, there was not a single drop of the two hundred and thirty-seven puncheons left except what was to be found in one leathern-flask, which panurge grabbed for his own private use, and hid away in his pocket.
when the wine was gone, pantagruel called out to carpalim: "get thee into the city, scrambling over the walls like a cat, as thou knowest well how to do. tell our people in the city that now is the very time for them to attack their foes, who are weak. as soon as thou art through with them, seize a lighted torch, run through the streets, and set fire everywhere. don't forget to cry out with thy loudest voice: 'fire! fire!' and skip from the camp."
without another word, carpalim was on the road, leaping and bounding for the city. everything was done as pantagruel had commanded. all the army in the city—that part which was not drunk—rushed out of the walls to meet the foe, and found—nobody. carpalim, meanwhile, ran through all the tents and pavilions, setting fire to each one. of course, in doing so, he had now and then to step over the captains and other officers who had eaten of pantagruel's paste, but he stepped so lightly, and they were so drunk, that they never knew it. the tents caught fire so quickly that poor carpalim—if it had not been for his wonderful agility—would have been roasted alive, like the captains, pashas, and guardsmen who were snoring in their tents when he set fire to them.
when the army, that had been silly enough, when carpalim shouted, to run outside of the walls, reached the plain and found no enemy, they wandered about in great confusion, and, being very tired, at last returned to the city and lay outside of the burning tents, and went to sleep with their mouths open. nobody thought of taking care of the burning gates. it was long after midnight when pantagruel entered the city, and as he marched through the streets he would take bags of salt out of the ship, which he carried around his waist, and, as he passed the sleepers, would drop the salt into their open mouths. many died from choking; and the rest of those who were lucky enough not to be burnt, when they woke next morning, thought they had enough salt in their mouths to last them for a lifetime. all they said as they got up and humbly went about their business, wetting their tongues every now and then to get the vile, bitter taste out, was:—
"o pantagruel, thou hast made our throats burn worse than before!"
