The Trivium, who had discovered a mound of pebbles which needed counting, followed no more, but stood at the edge shaking his fist, shouting horrible threats, and promising to rouse every demon in the mountains.

“What a nasty fellow,” gasped Milo, who was having great difficulty just getting his legs to move. “I hope I never meet him again.”

“I believe he’s stopped chasing us,” said the bug, looking back over his shoulder.

“It’s not what’s behind that worries me,” remarked Tock as they stepped from the sticky mess, “but what’s ahead.”

“Keep going straight! Keep going straight!” counseled the voice as they continued to pick their way carefully along the new path.

“Now step up! Now step up!” it recommended, and almost before they knew what had happened, they had all taken a step up and then plunged to the bottom of a deep murky pit.

“But he said up!” Milo complained bitterly from where he lay sprawling.

“Well, I hope you didn’t expect to get anywhere by listening to me,” said the voice gleefully.

“We’ll never get out of here,” the Humbug moaned, looking at the steep, smooth sides of the pit.

“That is quite an accurate evaluation of the situation,” said the voice coldly.

“Then why did you help us at all?” shouted Milo angrily.

“Oh, I’d do as much for anybody,” he replied; “bad advice is my specialty. For, as you can plainly see, I’m the long-nosed, green-eyed, curly-haired, wide-mouthed, thick-necked, broad-shouldered, round-bodied, short-armed, bowlegged, big-footed monster—and, if I do say so myself, one of the most frightening fiends in this whole wild wilderness. With me here, you wouldn’t dare try to escape.” And, with that, he shuffled to the edge of the pit and leered down at his helpless prisoners.

Tock and the Humbug turned away in fright, but Milo, who had learned by now that people are not always what they say they are, reached for his telescope and took a long look for himself. And there at the rim of the hole, instead of what he’d expected, stood a small furry creature with very worried eyes and a rather sheepish grin.

“Why, you’re not long-nosed, green-eyed, curly-haired, wide-mouthed, thick-necked, broad-shouldered, round-bodied, short-armed, bowlegged, or big-footed—and you’re not at all frightening,” said Milo indignantly. “What kind of a demon are you?”

The little creature, who seemed stunned at being found out, leaped back out of sight and began to whimper softly.

“I’m the demon of insincerity,” he sobbed. “I don’t mean what I say, I don’t mean what I do, and I don’t mean what I am. Most people who believe what I tell them go the wrong way, and stay there, but you and your awful telescope have spoiled everything. I’m going home.” And, crying hysterically, he stamped off in a huff.

“It certainly pays to have a good look at things,” observed Milo as he wrapped up the telescope with great care.

“Now all we have to do is climb out,” said Tock, placing his front paws as high on the wall as he could. “Here, hop up on my back.”

Milo climbed onto the dog’s shoulders. Then the bug crawled up both of them and, by standing on Milo’s head, just managed to hook his cane on the root of an old gnarled tree. With loud complaints he hung on doggedly until the other two had climbed out over him and pulled him up, somewhat dazed and discouraged.

“I’ll lead the way for a while,” he said, brushing himself off. “Follow me and we’ll stay out of trouble.”

He guided them along one of five narrow ledges, all of which led to a grooved and rutted plateau. They stopped for a moment to rest and make plans, but before they had done either the whole mountain trembled violently and, with a sudden lurch, rose high into the air, carrying them along with it. For, quite accidentally, they had stepped into the callused hand of the Gelatinous Giant.

“AND WHAT HAVE WE HERE!” he roared, looking curiously at the tiny figures huddled in his palm—and licking his lips.

He was an incredible size even sitting down, with long unkempt hair, bulging eyes, and a shape hardly worth speaking of. He looked, in fact, very much like a colossal bowl of jelly, without the bowl.

“HOW DARE YOU DISTURB MY NAP!” he bellowed furiously, and the force of his hot breath tumbled them over in his hand.

“We’re terribly sorry,” said Milo meekly, when he’d untangled himself, “but you looked just like part of the mountain.”

“Naturally,” the giant replied in a more normal voice (but even this was like an explosion). “I have no shape of my own, so I try to be just like whatever I’m near. In the mountains I’m a lofty peak, on the beach a broad sand bar, in the forest a towering oak, and sometimes in the city I’m a very handsome twelve-story apartment house. I just hate to be conspicuous; it’s really not safe, you know.” Then he looked at them again with hungry eyes and wondered how well they’d taste.

“You look much too big to be afraid of anything,” said Milo quickly, for the giant had already begun to open his mouth wide.

“I’m not,” he said, with a slight shiver that ran all over his gelatinous body. “I’m afraid of everything. That’s why I’m so ferocious. If the others found out, I’d just die. Now do be quiet while I eat my breakfast.” He raised his hand toward his gaping mouth and the Humbug shut his eyes tightly and clasped both hands over his head.

“Then aren’t you really a fearful demon?” Milo asked desperately, on the assumption that the giant had been brought up well enough not to talk with a mouthful.

“Well, approximately yes,” he replied, lowering his arm to the vast relief of the bug: “that is, comparatively no. What I mean is, relatively maybe—in other words, roughly perhaps. What does everyone else think? There, you see,” he said peevishly; “I’m even afraid to make a positive statement. So please stop asking questions before I lose my appetite altogether.” Then he raised his arm again and prepared to swallow the three of them in one gulp.

“Why don’t you help us rescue Rhyme and Reason? Then maybe things will get better,” shouted Milo again, this time almost too late, for in another instant they would have all been gone.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” said the giant thoughtfully, lowering his arm once more. “I mean, why not leave well enough alone? That is, it’ll never work. I wouldn’t take a chance. In other words, let’s keep things as they are—changes are so frightening.” As he spoke he began to look a bit ill. “Maybe I’ll just eat one of you,” he remarked unhappily, “and save the rest for later. I don’t feel very well.”

“I have a better idea,” said Milo.

“You do?” interrupted the giant, losing any desire to eat at all. “If it’s one thing I can’t swallow, it’s ideas: they’re so hard to digest.”

“I have a box full of all the ideas in the world,” said Milo, proudly holding up the gift King Azaz had given him.

The thought of it terrified the giant, who began to shake like an enormous pudding.

“PUT ME DOWN AND JUST GO AWAY,” he pleaded, forgetting for a moment who had hold of whom; “AND PLEASE DON’T OPEN THAT BOX!”

In another moment he’d set them down on the next jagged peak and, with panic in his eyes, lumbered off to warn the others of this terrible new threat.

But news travels quickly. The Wordsnatcher, the Trivium, and the long-nosed, green-eyed, curly-haired, wide-mouthed, thick-necked, broad-shouldered, round-bodied, short-armed, bowlegged, big-footed monster had already spread the alarm throughout the evil, unenlightened mountains.

And out the demons came—from every cave and crevice, through every fissure and crack, from under the rocks and up from the mud, stomping and shuffling, slithering and sliding, through the murky shadows. And all had only one thought in mind: destroy the intruders and protect Ignorance.