The interior was filled with a dry, stringy rot, just
the right thing for making a spark "live."
Then came a real difficulty. It will be better appreciated when the
men's childish nature is borne in mind. Their patience was terribly
strained in their attempts to make the sparks fly into the tinder.
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.
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