like child meat? Though it never does. I thought you knew.I thought you were just playing along. But what you saidjust then – all that stuff about play and youthful dreamsand the rest – it was just too much! It made me sorry foreverything.”The stranger giant turned his back and lurched offtowards the nearest hills without another word. The giantwas left more baffled than ever. He took a look round thevillage, saw that there wasn't a human in sight, and set offagain, going in the opposite direction to the stranger giant.He headed for the distant horizon where the sun wasslowly rising. The land was gentler there and he had thevague feeling or memory that it sloped down towards acoastal plain, though he didn't know how he knew. It wasaway from the hills and therefore, his logic told him, orwhatever passes for logic in giant kind, that the humandwellings would be more numerous, for the stony hillshoused giants and bogeys.He came at last, after tramping for many miles, to thewalls of a great city. They were so tall he couldn’t see overthem. This was indeed a great human settlement, builtperhaps with the intention of keeping giants out. Hefollowed the wall till he came to a gate, and was surprisedand heartened to find that it lay open, with a wide tunnelleading to the city beyond.As he entered the tunnel, he fancied he could smellhuman flesh, and even child’s flesh, mingled amongst allthe familiar smells of a city. He heard the rumble of a cartcome up behind him, but he didn't turn his head for hisattention was immediately caught by the sight before him.Here was a city aright: a city of enormous dwellingsbuilt with great slabs of hewn stone. Its countlessinhabitants thronged the streets and marketplaces, theirvoices crying out to barter and sell. There was every kindof colour and flavour of life imaginable, as is true of allgreat cities where different tribes and creeds mingle. Everykind except one. Not one person amongst all that greatthrong was human. They were all giants, whether youngeror older, hill-dwelling or from the plain. All like himself.The cart that had entered the city behind him nowturned about and he caught sight of what the carter – whoelse but a giant – had brought. It was a cart full of rottenturnips and mouldy apples, of withered tree roots andrancid potatoes. The smell that had enticed him inside –the smell of human flesh and especially child’s flesh – hadbeen nothing but a memory. He looked from left to right,at the milling giants who didn't even notice anotherstrange giant in their midst, and felt his old worn legsbegin to buckle under him. Were there nothing but giantsnow, anywhere in the world?He addressed the carter. “Tell me, giant friend. Whyhave you brought all that stuff into the city?”The giant carter frowned, as if the question were anirritation, “Isn’t it obvious? How else are we supposed toeat?”“Are there no people anymore? No children?”The giant carter looked at him as if he were mad, andturned his face away.The giant took a last look at the city, and went backthrough the gate and outside.He walked for many days. He went over hill andthrough dale, and found nothing in the world but giants.Every village was abandoned, and every little hamletstripped of its people and even livestock. So of courseIssue 6 www.newfairytales.co.uk - 24 -
there were no children. He felt the ache in his belly as thedays went by, and considered digging up some turnips, butthe thought of eating them left him more bitter than ever.At last he came to the shores of the sea and lookedout on the choppy grey waters. There was nowhere else togo, so he turned back and sat down near the sea shore, ina little meadow next to a stream that widened into a riveras it flowed out towards the ocean. Here he went to sleepfor most of the morning. When it was afternoon, and thesun was tickling his thick, stubby giant nose, he opened hiseyes. What he saw made him sit up in shock.There was a child playing in the river. He had noshoes on, and the water flowed past his bare feet. He wasa little boy, about five or six years old, with fine freckledcheeks and soft golden hair like spun wool. He was singinga childish song and seemed not to have noticed the giantat all.The giant rose up and moved his great, stiff limbs. Hefelt the appetite rising from his belly to his mouth as helooked on the child. He could already smell the scent ofinnocence, a lamblike innocence, the scent of all joy andhappiness when one is truly free and the day seems tostretch out eternally. Was this, then, the last child? Had hefound the last child that hadn’t been consumed by giants,the last meadow still trodden by a child’s feet rather than agiant’s?He stepped, as quietly as he could, toward the river.The boy wasn't looking towards him. He was looking downinto the water, his head bowed, singing his sweet child’ssong.The giant reached the bank. He put one foot into thewater, then the other, and despite his great size thereIssue 6 www.newfairytales.co.uk - 25 -
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