The Book of Giant Adventures

by Anna Fienberg

  ‘“We must put a blindfold on the boy so he doesn’t know which dumpling he is eating,” said Mrs Chintu, and her husband tied a handkerchief over my eyes.

  ‘I took a bite of one dumpling and swallowed it slowly. Then I tried the other. They watched me fiercely.

  ‘When I had finished I said, “These are the best dumplings I ever tasted, and they are exactly the same.”

  “‘No they’re not!” thundered Chintu.

  “‘Taste them yourself and see,” I said.

  ‘So they did and they were very surprised. “The boy is right. They are the same,” said Mrs Chintu. “And they are the best dumplings I ever tasted.”

  ‘So then I told them, “That’s because I went downstairs to the kitchen last night and I mixed the ground bones and the flour together. That’s what makes the best dumplings-bones and flour.”

  “‘What a clever Tashi,” cried Mrs Chintu.

  “‘Oho! So that’s who you are,” bellowed Chintu, and he scooped me up in his great red hands. “I promised my friend the dragon that I would serve you up to him in a tasty fritter the next time he came to breakfast.”

  “‘Maybe so,” said his wife, “but just try another dumpling first.”

  ‘The giant did, and when he had finished he thought for a minute. It was the longest minute of my life. Then the giant sighed and licked his lips. “Dragon can have a plate of these dumplings instead,” he said. “They are exquisite. Be off with you now, Tashi.”

  ‘And so this time I walked out the great front door, as bold as you please. When I returned to the village they were still arguing about whether to give me up to Chintu or to let me run away. “I don’t have to do either!” I cried, and I told them what had happened.

  “‘What a clever Tashi!” cried Grandmother.’

  ‘So that’s the end of the story,’ said Jack sadly.

  ‘And everyone was safe and happy again.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tashi, ‘that is, until the bandits arrived.’

  THE BANDITS

  One night Jack was reading a book with his father.

  ‘This story reminds me of the time Tashi was captured by some bandits,’ said Jack.

  ‘Oh good, another Tashi story,’ said Dad. ‘I suppose Tashi finished up as the Bandit Chief.’ ‘No, he didn’t,’ said Jack. ‘It was like this. One wet and windy night a band of robbers rode into Tashi’s village. They were looking for some shelter for the night.

  ‘But next morning, just as they were leaving, the wife of the Bandit Chief saw Tashi. He reminded her of her son, who had sailed away on a pirate ship, and she said to her husband, “That boy looks just like our son, Mo Chi. Let’s take him with us.”

  ‘So Tashi was picked up and thrown on to one of the horses and away they went. He sneaked a good look about him, but he was surrounded by bandits, and it was impossible to escape. So Tashi had to think up one of his cunning plans.

  ‘The first night when the bandits were still sitting around the fire after their dinner, the Bandit Chief said to Tashi, “Come, boy, sing us a song as Mo Chi did, of treasure and pirates and fish that shine like coins in the sea.”

  ‘Tashi saw that this was his chance. So what do you think he did?’

  ‘Sang like a nightingale,’ said Dad.

  ‘Wrong!’ said Jack. ‘He sang like a crow. The bandits all covered their ears and the Bandit Wife said, “Stop, stop! You sing like a crow.

  You had better come over here and brush my hair like my son used to do.” Tashi bowed politely but as he stepped around the fire, he filled the brush with thistles and burrs so that soon her hair was full of tangles.

  “‘Stop, stop!” cried the Bandit Wife, and her husband told her, “This boy is not like our son. He sings like a crow and he tangles your hair.” Tashi put on a sorrowful face. “I will do better tomorrow,” he promised.

  “‘You’d better,” whispered the Chief’s brother, Me Too, “or I’ll boil you in snake oil.”

  ‘The next day when the bandits moved camp, they put all the rice into three big bags and gave them to Tashi to carry. When they came to a river, what do you think Tashi did?’

  ‘Well,’ said Dad, scratching his chin, ‘he’s such a clever boy, I expect he carried them over one by one, holding them up high.’

  ‘Wrong!’ said Jack. ‘He dropped them all into the river. The bandits roared with rage. They called to Tashi to mind the horses. Then they jumped into the water and tried to recover the bags of rice that were sinking further down the river.’

  ‘But Tashi reached them first, I suppose,’ said Dad.

  ‘No, he didn‘t,’ said Jack, ‘and when the bandits came back, all angry and dripping, they found that he had lost all the horses. The robbers began to whisper about the Bandit Wife, and Me Too gave Tashi evil looks. It took them a whole day to find the horses agam.

  ‘Well, that night, the Bandit Chief said to his wife, “This boy is not like our son. He sings like a crow, he tangles your hair, he loses the rice and scatters the horses.” Tashi put on a sorrowful face. “I will do better tomorrow,” he promised.

  ‘“You’d better”’ whispered Me Too, “or I’ll pluck out your nose hairs, one by one.”

  ‘On the third day, the bandits decided to attack the village where another band of robbers were staying. Just before dawn they quietly surrounded the camp-and what do you think Tashi did then?’

  ‘He rode into the village and captured the chief,’ guessed Dad.

  ‘Wrong!’ cried Jack. ‘They were just preparing to attack, when Tashi accidentally let off his gun.

  ‘The enemy was warned and Tashi’s bandits had to gallop away for their lives.

  When they were at a safe distance they stopped. The Chief’s brother wanted to punish Tashi—he said he’d tie him up and smother him in honey and let man-eating ants loose upon him—but the Bandit Wife said, “No, let him come back to camp with me. He can help me roast the ducks we stole yesterday and we will have a feast ready for you when you return.”

  ‘So she and Tashi worked all day, plucking, chopping and turning the ducks on the spit, and mouth-watering smells greeted the bandits as they drew near the camp that evening. And what do you think Tashi did then?’

  ‘Washed his hands for dinner,’ said Dad.

  ‘Wrong!’ said Jack. ‘Just as the robbers jumped down from their horses, Tashi stumbled and knocked a big pot of cold water over the almost-cooked ducks and put out the fire.

  “‘Enough!” shouted the Bandit Chief to his wife. “This boy is not like our son. He sings like a crow, he tangles your hair, he loses the rice, he scatters the horses, he warns our enemies—and now he has spoilt our dinner. This is too much.” And he turned to Tashi.

  “You must go home to your village now, Tashi. You are a clumsy, useless boy with no more brain than the ducks you ruined.”

  ‘Tashi smiled inside, but he put on a sorrowful face and turned to the Bandit Wife. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t like your son,” he said, but she was already on her way down to the river to fetch some more water.

  ‘Tashi turned to go when a rough hand pulled him back.

  “‘You don’t deserve to go free, Duck Spoiler,” snarled Me Too. “Say goodbye to this world and hullo to the next because I’m going to make an end of you.”

  ‘But as he turned to pick up his deadly nose-hair plucker, Tashi shook himself free and tore off into the forest. He could hear the bandit crashing through the trees after him, but if he could just make it to the river, he thought he would have a chance.

  ‘He was almost there when he heard a splash. He looked up to see the Bandit Wife had slipped on a stone and had fallen into the water.

  “‘Help!” she cried when she saw Tashi. “Help me, I can’t swim!”

  ‘Tashi hesitated. He could ignore her, and dive in and swim away. But he couldn’t leave her to drown, even though she was a bandit. So he swam over to her and pulled her ashore.

  ‘By now all the bandits were lined up along the b
ank and the Chief ran up to Tashi. “Thank you, Tashi. I take back all those hard words I said about you. Fate did send you to us after all.”

  ‘Me Too groaned and gnashed his teeth.

  “‘Brother,” said the Bandit Chief, “you can see Tashi safely home.”

  “‘Oh no, thanks,” said Tashi quickly, “I know the way,” and he nipped off up the bank of the river, quicker than the wind.’

  ‘So,’ said Dad sadly, ‘that’s the end of the story and Tashi arrived safely back at his village.’

  ‘Wrong!’ said Jack. ‘He did arrive back at the village and there were great celebrations. But at the end of the night, when everyone was going sleepily to bed, Third Uncle noticed that a ghost-light was shining in the forest.’

  ‘And that’s another Tashi story, I’ll bet!’ cried Dad.

  ‘Right!’ said Jack. ‘But we’ll save it for dinner when Mum gets home.’

  ‘What kind of sandwiches have you got today, Tashi?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Egg,’ said Tashi.

  ‘Oh.’ Jack pulled at some weeds growing under the bench. There were only ten minutes until the bell.

  It was a dull kind of day, thought Jack. The sky was grey all over. There wasn’t a single dragon or battleship or wicked face in the clouds. And then Tashi had been busy taking a boy to the sick bay – Angus Figment had been bitten by a strange green spider which made Angus’s finger go all black and dead-looking. Tashi said it needed urgent treatment, so they hadn’t even had time to play.

  ‘Dragon Egg.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My sandwich.’

  ‘Ooh, let me see.’

  Tashi licked the last crumb from the corner of his mouth. ‘Sorry, I just finished – boy, was I hungry! I could have eaten ten thousand and six of them!’

  ‘What do dragon eggs taste like?’

  ‘Salty, and a bit hot, like chilli – your tongue tingles as if it’s on fire.’

  ‘Gosh,’ said Jack. ‘I just had cheese.’

  He stood up gloomily.

  ‘Once somebody really did swallow ten thousand and six of those eggs. It was terrible. Everyone said that’s why there are so few dragons around anymore. We were lucky – Third Aunt had already salted away piles of them, just in case.’

  Jack sat down. ‘In one gulp? Swallowed them, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ said Tashi, stretching out his legs.

  ‘Who was he? Come on, tell me, we’ve still got nine minutes before the bell.’

  ‘Well,’ said Tashi, throwing his lunch scraps into the bin, ‘it was like this. On a grey, still afternoon, remarkably like this one in fact, I was sitting with my friends in the schoolhouse when suddenly the Magic Warning Bell began to ring. We all ran straight home, I can tell you! Our mothers came in from the fields and our fathers gathered up the animals and bolted the doors of their shops. What danger could there be? I wondered. Was it the war lord, stung by wasps and gone mad? Was it blood-thirsty pirates? Ravenous witches?

  ‘The ground began to tremble and the dishes clattered on the shelves. Peeping through a crack in the shutters, I saw a giant striding down the street.’

  ‘Chintu!’ yelled Jack. ‘Remember how you were prisoner in his house once and Mrs Chintu—’

  ‘It wasn’t Chintu, Jack. This giant was almost as wide as he was tall. He swelled out in the middle as if he had a hill under his jumper. Well, he passed our house, thank goodness, but he stopped next door and do you know what? He just lifted the roof off, as easily as you please. He scooped up a whole pig that was roasting on a spit and gobbled it down as he went on his way to the end of the village.

  ‘As soon as the earth stopped shuddering under our feet, everyone ran into the street. They were shouting with fright, telling of their wild escapes from death. “He missed me by a hair,” Wu was gasping. “That great foot of his came down like a brick wall, and squashed my poor hens flat.”

  ‘“Just as well you were roasting a pig at the time, Mrs Wang,” said Wise-as-an-Owl, “otherwise he might have taken you instead.” A fearful groan ran through the crowd.

  ‘“My word, yes,” said Mrs Wang. “I just heard this morning that two people have disappeared from the village over the river.”

  ‘People were still muttering and moaning when the village gossip ran up. Wah! That one practically knows what you’re going to say and who you’re going to visit before you do!’

  ‘Oh, we used to have a neighbour like that – Mr Bigmouth. He was like the local newspaper.’

  ‘Well, anyway, Mrs Fo – the gossip – shouted over everyone. “My second son’s wife’s cousin works for Chintu the Giant, and he has just told me that Chintu’s Only Brother has come to live with him. My cousin says Only Brother is a hundred times worse than Chintu. He says Only Brother eats from morning to night!” Another moan rippled through the crowd and Wise-as-an-Owl turned to me, just as I knew he would.

  ‘“Tashi,” he said, “you are the only one of us who has been to Chintu’s castle and managed to leave alive. Do you think that you could go again and find out if this is true?”’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Jack. ‘You didn’t have to go, did you?’

  ‘Well,’ said Tashi, ‘it was like this. I didn’t want to, but then I thought it could be my roof that was lifted next time, and no pig in the courtyard! “All right,” I said, “I’ll get ready straightaway.”

  ‘My mother packed some food and a warm scarf in a basket. “Be careful, Tashi,” she said, “and give these plums to Mrs Chintu with my best wishes.”

  ‘I gave her a hug, and set off. It was a night and a day’s hard walking ahead of me but I remembered the way well. When I arrived at Chintu’s castle I stopped and listened. There was a great muttering and clanging of spoons and forks coming from the kitchen. I made my way towards it and pushed open the door. (That took a while – giants’ doors are heavy!)

  ‘There, in the kitchen, was Mrs Chintu. She was rolling some dough, her face creased with bad temper. I ran over and tugged at her skirt.

  ‘“Well, hello, Tashi,” she said, most surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  ‘I told her about Only Brother’s visit to the village and how frightened the people all were that he would come again. But when I asked if there was anything she could do to help us, Mrs Chintu threw down her chopper and cried, “I wish there was, Tashi. Only Brother is getting on my nerves as well. He eats all day long, I never stop cooking, so fussy he is with his food. And he keeps Chintu up drinking till dawn, the both of them singing at the tops of their voices. But whenever I ask Chintu to tell him to go, he says, ‘He is my Only Brother, I could never ask him to leave.’”

  ‘Just then Chintu stamped into the kitchen roaring, “Fee fi fo—”

  ‘“Now don’t start that all over again,” Mrs Chintu snapped. “Here’s Tashi come to see us. You remember him, don’t you? He’s the boy who—”

  ‘“Didn’t we eat him?”

  ‘“No,” said Mrs Chintu hastily, “that was another boy altogether. Is something the matter?”

  ‘Chintu flopped down like a mountain crumbling. “You know how I’ve been waiting for the pomegranates to ripen on my tree down by the pond? Well, I just went there to pick some and I found that Only Brother has stripped the tree bare and eaten the lot.”

  ‘“I told you he should go,” said Mrs Chintu.

  ‘“Now don’t you start that all over again,” Chintu roared and he stamped out.

  ‘“You see,” sighed Mrs Chintu, “Only Brother will be here forever.”

  ‘“Unless we come up with a cunning scheme,” I said. “Now let me think…”

  ‘Mrs Chintu sat me on the table. “You’ll think better if you’re comfortable,” she said.

  ‘I closed my eyes and swung my legs and then an idea came. “Did you say Only Brother was a fussy eater?”

  ‘“Yes, I did. Everything has to be just so, even if he does guzzle it all down in a trice.”

  ‘“Well then,” I said, “f
or Step One, when you give him his dinner tonight, make sure that his helpings have four times as much pepper as he likes.”

  ‘At dinnertime, Only Brother gulped down three or four spoonfuls of stew before he realised how hot and spicy it was. “UGH!” he bellowed. “This stew would burn the tonsils off a warthog! No giant could eat it!”

  ‘Chintu, who had no extra pepper in his dinner, took a spoonful. “What’s wrong with it?” he growled. “You probably aren’t hungry because you are full of my pomegranates.”

  ‘The two brothers went to bed, scowling. There was no drinking or singing that night. Good, I thought, now for tomorrow – and Step Two.

  ‘The next morning was Chintu’s birthday. Mrs Chintu spent all morning making a magnificent birthday cake. When he saw it, Chintu licked the icing on the top and said, “Now, wife, we must be sure Only Brother doesn’t see this before dinnertime! I’ll hide it in the cellar.”

  ‘I waited until Chintu was out of sight and then went to find Only Brother. I described the beauty of the cake and Only Brother’s eyes glistened. “Would you like to see it?” I asked. “Just to look at, not to touch, of course.” Only Brother would.