Again
and again one of them would throw the rocks angrily to the ground,
fairly snarling with exasperation.
However, the other would immediately take them up and try again. Neither
man had a tenth the deftness that is common to adults on the earth. In
size and strength alone they were men; otherwise--it cannot too often be
repeated--they were mere children. All told, it was over two hours
before the punk began to smolder.
"By Mownoth!" swore the herdsman, staring reverently at the smoke. "We
have done a miracle, Dulnop--ye and I! Be ye sure this is no dream?"
Quite in human fashion, Dulnop seriously reached out and pinched the
herdsman's tremendous arm. Corrus winced, but was too well pleased with
the result to take revenge, although the nature of these men was such as
to call for it.
"It be no dream!" he declared, still awestruck.
"Nay," agreed Dulnop. "And now--to make the flower grow!"
It was Corrus's lungs which really did the work. His prodigious chest
was better than a small pair of bellows, and he blew just as he had been
told in the vision. Presently a small flame appeared in the tinder, and
leaped eagerly upward. Both men jumped back, and for lack of enough air
the flame went out.
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