“Well, no,” sez the Giant, “I heard of him only, and that was all. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” sez he. “I have command of a third of the birds of the air, and it’s likely some of them may know something about him, and if they do I’ll soon find it out for you,” sez he.

So with that he blew a whistle, and immediately from all corners of the sky the birds begun for to gather, and very soon they were all round the castle, making the sky dark. Then the Giant put it to them did they know anything of—

“The Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall,

The greatest Giant over them all,“

or where he lived.

But no, they said they heard tell of him only, but none of them ever reached where he lived.

“Well,” sez the Giant, sez he to Jack, “it’s bad enough. But I’ll tell you what,” sez he. “I’ll give you a pair of nine-mile boots, and with them you’ll reach an older brother of mine who lives a long ways off entirely, and he has command over half the birds of the air, and maybe he could do something for you.”

Jack thanked him, and putting on the boots he started away and travelled on, and on, and on, nine mile at every step, till late at night he reached the Giant’s older brother’s castle away on a very lonely moor, and going in he saw the Giant sitting by the fire. The Giant got up and he says,—

“You’re welcome Jack, the King of Ireland’s son, for I haven’t seen the face of a Christian for six hundred years. You stopped at my brother’s house last night,” sez he.

“I did,” sez Jack, all the time wondering how he knew him, or where he stopped last night, but he said nothing.

Then the Giant put Jack beside the big fire, and cutting down two quarters of a rat that was hung in the smoke of the chimney, he roasted them, and Jack and he ate a quarter a piece, and then they went to bed, everyone of them on a harrow, with a goatskin under them and another over them; and Jack slept well and sound for he was very tired, and got up as fresh as a butterfly in the morning, and when they had eaten a good breakfast of the other half of the rat the Giant asked Jack where was he going.

“Well,” sez Jack, sez he, “I might tell you how far I come, but I can’t tell you how far I am going,” and he ups and he tells this Giant the whole story too.

“Well,” sez the Giant, sez he, “it’s bad enough, but I’ll do all I can to help you. I heard tell of the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall, and that’s all I know about him; but I have command over half the birds of the air, and it’s likely some of them may know something about him, and if they do I’ll soon find out.”

So he took out a little whistle and blew it, and in a minute the sky commenced to darken with great flocks of birds flying from all corners, and they all gathered round the Giant’s castle. Then the Giant, he put the question to them, if any of them in their travels had come across the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall,

“The Giant of Band-beggars’ Hall,

The greatest Giant over them all.“

But none of them had ever come across him. They had heard tell of him, they said, but that was all.

“Well, it’s bad enough,” sez the Giant to Jack, “but there’s one other remedy yet. I’ll lend you a pair of nine-league boots; and I have a brother lives a day’s journey from here, by them, who has command over all the birds of the air, and maybe he’ll be able to help you.”

So off Jack set in the nine-league boots, and late that night he reached the third Giant’s house. When he went in, he saw the Giant sitting by the fire, and he got up and welcomed Jack.

“You’re welcome, Jack,” sez he, “the King of Ireland’s son, for I haven’t seen the face of a Christian for the last nine hundred years. You slept at my brother’s house last night.”

Then he sat Jack down by the fire, and reaching up the chimney he took down a rat that was hanging in the smoke, and roasting it on the fire, himself and Jack made a hearty supper of it. And they went to bed, each of them lying on a harrow, with a goat-skin over them and one under them. And Jack slept well and sound, and got up in the morning, as fresh as a butterfly. And after they had made a good breakfast on another rat, sez the Giant, sez he,—

“Jack, may I ask you how far you intend going?”

“Well,” sez Jack, sez he, “I may tell you how far I come, but as to how far I’m going it’s more nor I could tell.”

So he starts and he tells the Giant the whole story, and he then asked him if he could give him any information as to where the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall lived?

“Well, no,” sez the Giant, sez he, “I heard tell of the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall, but that was all. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” sez the Giant. “I have command of all the birds of the air, and I’ll call them together to see if they would know anything about him.”

So the Giant blew a whistle, and in a minute the sky was darkened by all the birds of the air gathering together from all corners. And when they were all gathered over the castle the Giant put it to them—Did any of them know anything of

“The Giant of Band-beggars’ Hall,

The greatest Giant over them all.“

But, lo and behold ye, not one of them knew a thing about him; they had heard tell of him, they said, but none of them ever reached to where he lived.

Poor Jack got into bad heart at this intelligence.

“What will I do now,” sez Jack, sez he, to the Giant, “for I’m done now, out and out?”

“I don’t know, Jack,” sez the Giant. “But hold,” sez he, “on second thoughts there’s one eagle that isn’t here. He flies everywhere over the whole known world, and only comes here to see me once in seven years, and I’m expecting him to-day, for it’s just seven years this day since he was with me before. Wait till we see, when he comes, if he has any tidings of him; and if he hasn’t I don’t know what you’ll do.”

And sure enough, that very evening they saw the monstrous big eagle—the like of it, for size, Jack never saw before—coming in a thunder-cloud, darkening the very sky with its wings; and when the Giant saw this, sez he,—

“Now, Jack,” sez he, “it will not do to let you be seen by the eagle, for he would eat any human being he would see, especially now, when he is coming home ravenous after his big fly.”

So he sewed Jack up in a big leathern bag, and hung him by the side of the chimney. And as soon as the eagle had come, the Giant welcomed him and asked him if there was any news.

“No,” sez the eagle very sharp, “where would I get news? I’m dead with hunger,” sez he; “and get me something to eat at once. It will be better for me than gossiping news with you.”

So the Giant went and fetched in a bullock and twelve lambs; and the eagle fell to at once and ate them, bones and all; and he then put his head into his wings and went asleep at once. And the Giant went to bed, too; and Jack was still in the leathern bag, listening to and watching all that was going on. It was late the next morning when the eagle awoke after his big feed. When he did he called for breakfast, and the Giant fetched him in another bullock and twelve lambs, and he ate these up quickly, bones and all; and when he had finished he stroked down his breast with his beak, and flapped his wings two or three times.

“Now,” sez he, “I’m myself again.”

“Do ye know,” sez the Giant, sez he to him, “do ye know, or have ye met in all your travels, the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall?”

“What would I know about him?” sez the eagle. Then, sez he, “I was there once, but I’ll never go there again, for it’s away out of the world entirely.”

“Well,” sez the Giant, “he was here lately, and he left that bag to be sent to his place, and he is to behead me if I don’t get it there.”

“Well, I’ll not take it,” sez the eagle.

“Very well, then,” sez the Giant, “I suppose I must wait on my fate.”

At last, after some time, the eagle sez, sez he,—