The Tale of Little Huw and the Giants

by Mike McMillan

Little Huw was a shepherd boy, and kept the sheep on the lonely slopes of the high hills. I say a boy, but he was almost a man in age. He didn't have much growth to him, though, so they called him Little Huw - when he was around to be called anything. He mostly kept to himself, he and his black-and-white dog, Wag. (All sheepdogs have short names, so that they can be called across the wide valleys.) Wag would do anything for Huw, and Huw controlled him with his voice and his whistle and his gestures as if the dog was another of his arms.

They were strong arms, for all he was small, and he could hurl a slingstone hard enough and accurately enough to cripple or kill a wolf if it was bothering his flock.

On the day of which I tell, Little Huw was up in the hills as usual, pasturing the sheep in a valley sheltered from the wind. He sat on a rock, high enough up the slope to see them all, but not so high that the wind caught him in the face and made his eyes water. Every now and again he whistled to Wag to keep a sheep from straying out of the valley.

It was getting on for noontime, and he was just thinking of pulling his lunch out of his pouch, when he heard big thumping footsteps, and over the hill to his right came a giant with two heads. Little Huw was astonished, for he had never seen a giant. The giant didn't notice him, and while he was still wondering what to do, it scooped up a sheep from the edge of the flock as easily as Little Huw would pick up a rabbit, and made off with it.

Well, Huw couldn't be having with that. He whistled up Wag and they set off in pursuit.

The giant took big steps, but Huw took fast steps, and sooner rather than later they were coming up behind it. The sheep was struggling, and the giant was cursing in two deep voices, one out of each mouth.

Wag looked at Huw, and Huw gestured silently for him to go on round in front of the giant. The giant stopped when he saw the dog, and went to move around him, but Wag had been a herding dog since he was a puppy herding ducks in the farmyard. He wouldn't let the giant by.

The giant was too stupid to look around for the master of the dog, and Huw ran silently up behind him until he was close enough, then let fly a slingstone. It took the giant at the base of his left skull, and the giant stumbled and dropped the sheep.

The sheep bleated stupidly, picked itself up and ran from the dog, bashing into the giant's shin on the way. The giant was already tottering, and the blow unbalanced him and dropped him on the ground. He hit his heads on a rock outcrop and lay still.

'Hold, Wag,' said Little Huw, and the dog went after the sheep and controlled it, keeping it close by until his master said otherwise. Little Huw trotted up and examined the giant.

He was twice as big as a man (and had twice as many heads, of course), and he was roughly dressed in the skins of sheep stitched together. Giants have always been very fond of mutton, and this one had clearly stolen many rather than few, though never from Little Huw's flock before. The giant looked dead, but Little Huw pulled out his sharp knife that he used for trimming sheep's hooves and for slaughtering the odd one when he had to, and cut off both the heads, to make sure.

Over the sheepskins, the giant wore a fine belt, as fine as Little Huw had seen. He took it from the giant and put it on himself, for his trouble. It went four times round him, but round him it went, and he was pleased rather than sorry.

That was all the giant had, and as he was too large to move, Huw left him there, including the heads. They were large heads, and he didn't fancy carrying them back to the flock, which would be frightened by the smell of blood, in any case. Sheep are frightened by anything more than a buttercup, and sometimes by a good deal less.

Together, he and Wag got the sheep that had been stolen back to the flock, none the worse for the experience, and Wag gathered in the others that had strayed too far out. Huw counted them, and there were all of them, so he ate his lunch and admired his new belt, and then moved round to the other side of the valley to get the afternoon sun.

Now it happened that it was market-time soon after, and the lord that owned the sheep that Little Huw was minding sent his younger son out to choose some for the market. The lord's son would point, and Huw would whistle, and Wag would pull the sheep out of the flock and bring it to them. The lord's son had a dog, too, and it was a good enough dog. It held the sheep the lord's son had selected in a group away from the main flock, and would drive them in to the market in the town. The lord's son knew less about sheep than he thought, in Little Huw's opinion, but he saw no call to make a comment, and so they got on fine.

When they had finished, Little Huw asked if there was any news from town, and the lord's son said that surely, there was. The lord's elder son, his brother, had been riding out on the hills, and had come across a giant with two heads, and hadn't he killed it with only his dagger (for he had left his sword at home)? And hadn't he brought home the two heads to show, and wasn't he the hero of the town, now?

"And where was this," asked Little Huw, "and whenabouts?"

"Well, it was only last week, five days ago to be exact. And it was right out here in the hill country, not five miles west from this spot where we stand. You were just lucky, Little Huw, that you didn't meet such a monster yourself."

Now it was five days since Little Huw had killed his giant, and he had moved a mile a day east since then, to meet up with the lord's son where there was easy country for separating sheep out of the flock. He had a shrewd idea of what had happened, but he kept his thoughts to himself. The lord's son wouldn't have believed him. Besides, if the lord's other son was fool enough to make himself out a hero when he was none, that was his business, and none of Little Huw's.

The lord's son set out, riding his horse, and whistling the dog around the sheep. Little Huw started Wag rounding up the rest of the flock into a bunch again, ready to move them back to better pasture, and he was almost ready when he heard the lord's son riding back again, at a gallop.

"What is it?" said Little Huw.

"Little Huw, Little Huw, run if you value your life!" said the lord's son. "There's another giant, brother to the one my brother killed, but bigger rather than smaller, and he's chasing me at a fearful speed!" And he lashed his horse and rode on up the valley.

Well, Little Huw of course was not so afraid of giants as he had been, having killed one not a week before, and he couldn't just leave the sheep (though the lord's son had left his readily enough, it seemed). So he had Wag move the flock over to one side, and he hid behind a boulder on the other and waited to see this giant for himself.

The giant ran up, and it was as the lord's son had said, he was going uncommonly fast. He had three heads, this one, and was as big as three men. Huw had an idea, and he gestured Wag up onto another boulder opposite. He had taught Wag, for a game, to nod and shake his head on his signal, and used to amuse the other shepherds at the fairs with the trick, and now he thought how he could turn this to his advantage.

The sun was behind Wag, and as the giant came up, panting through all three mouths, Little Huw pitched his voice low and said, "Good day to you, Master Giant."

The giant pulled up. All he could see was the dog, and he spoke to him and asked, "Was that you?"

Little Huw made the signal, and Wag nodded his head. "Indeed it was," he said.

"I never knew dogs could talk," said the giant out of his middle mouth.

"No, you wouldn't, for usually we keep it a secret," said Huw, making the sign, and Wag shook his head from side to side. "But I'm curious to know, where is it you're going, and in such a hurry too?"

"Well, Master Dog," said the giant, "it's this way. Our youngest brother's been missing for five days; and my brother and me, we wondered where he was."

"That's serious," said Little Huw, and had Wag nod his head.

"Ah, there's more. I goes out looking for him, don't I, and there's his body without its heads, and him without his magic belt."

"Very bad, very bad," said Little Huw, and Wag shook his head.

"Truly," said the giant. "And when I track the blood of the heads, do you know what I find?"

"I do not," said Little Huw, and Wag shook his head again on the signal.

"The tracks of a horse, and that same horse that I was chasing just now," said the giant.

"I see," said Little Huw, and had his dog nod. "But tell me, for I'm interested - just what is magic about this belt of your brother's?"

"Well," says the giant, "it's thisaway. We had three magic things from our father, one to each of us, and they were these. Our youngest brother, because he was the weakest, got the magic belt, which when it goes around you makes you as strong again as you was, if you only wish it."

"Is it so?" asked Huw, and Wag nodded wisely.

"It's so," said the giant. "And to me, who was the slowest, he left his magic gaiters, which when they goes around your legs makes you as fast again as you was, if you only wish it."

"I noticed you were going mighty fast," said Little Huw, making the dog nod. "And what might your eldest brother have inherited?"

"Well, he, being eldest, got the best thing of all, a magic stick that will fight for you when you whistle it," said the giant. "And now, if I've satisfied your curiosity, Master Dog, I'll ask you to let me go where I must."

"With all my heart," said Little Huw, and he rose up from behind his boulder - which was behind the giant as well - and wished on the magic belt for strength. Then he slung such a stone at the back of the giant's middle head that the giant fell senseless on the ground. And truly, he found himself five times as strong as he usually was - as strong again as his own strength, for each time the belt went around. He cut off the heads, as before, stripped off the magic gaiters - they went six times round his legs, for the giant was very large - and whistled Wag to start moving the flock.

They caught up with the lord's son further up the valley, with his horse blown and lamed, and sweat on his forehead from fear.

"Little Huw, Little Huw, what of the giant?" he cried.

"Oh, he fell over on the rough ground," said Little Huw. "He never bothered me, and he won't bother you."

The lord's son looked at him askance, but when he saw how unconcerned Little Huw was, eventually he led the horse back down the valley the way Little Huw had come, and Little Huw went on towards the high pasture.

Now, the lord's two sons were very close in age. So it had always been rivalry between them, and though the younger son had boasted to Little Huw about his brother's feat in killing the giant, he was secretly envious, and only played it up to Little Huw because Little Huw was never in the town. So when he found the giant dead, and its heads cut off and left there, being no better a man than his brother he gathered them up and put them on his horse. Then he went back to town with the sheep he had come for (which his dog had kept from straying very far), loudly proclaiming that he had killed a bigger and a fiercer giant than had his brother.

Little Huw knew nothing of this, and would have cared nothing if he had known, for it was no part of his plan to be famous as a slayer of giants. He liked the high hills and the shepherding, not towns and fuss. But he was mindful of the third giant that the second one had mentioned, and kept an eye out, just in case.

He didn't see the giant, though, for he was in a different part of the hills when that giant followed his first brother's trail to his corpse; and then his second brother's trail, to his corpse; and then the horse's track and the track of the sheep to the town. And there he stood in the market square, while the people fled and hid in all directions, and the sheep brought in to market panicked and bleated and knocked over stalls. He called out with a fourfold voice from his four heads, "Where is the slayer of my youngest brother, the man who has stolen his magic belt? And where is the slayer of my second brother, the man who has stolen his magic gaiters?"

Now the lord, besides his two sons, had a daughter, and she was the only thing the two of them ever agreed on, for they were both devoted to her, and she to them. She was a brave lass (braver than her brothers), and she stood up from behind a cart and cried out, "It was my brothers slew your brothers, and they'll slay you, if my father doesn't!"

"Is it so?" asked the giant. "We'll see about that," and he whistled his magic stick, and it chased the girl out from her hiding place to where he could catch her, as neat as Wag would cut out a sheep. Then he scooped up the girl, slung her over his shoulder and took out for the hills.

The brothers were lying lower than most, and it took a little while to find them. They had both heard the giant's words - it had been hard not to - and they were pondering on the belt and the gaiters, especially the younger, who remembered that Little Huw had worn just such items when he saw him last. Fortunately for them, nobody else was thinking about where was the gear. But unfortunately for them, what they were thinking of was sending the brothers out after the giant, to rescue their sister.

Rescue their sister, they would be glad to do, for they loved her, as I have said. But kill a giant, they both knew they could not. Still, there was nothing for it but belt on their swords, and saddle a couple of horses, and set out after the giant. Their father had a market day to run. And besides, he was getting older, and they had proved themselves as giant-killers already, he said.

They rode along in silence for a while, then the younger brother burst out, "You never killed that giant, did you? Or you'd have his belt."

"No, I didn't," his brother admitted, "and you never killed one, neither, or you'd have his gaiters."

"It's so," the younger admitted. They rode on for a while longer, and then the elder said, "Well, who did kill them, then, if we didn't?"

"My guess," said the younger, "and it's a strong guess, is that it was Little Huw, the shepherd boy." And he told him how he had seen Little Huw with the belt and the gaiters, and gone back and found the giant killed, just where he had left Little Huw a while before.

"Well then," said the elder brother reluctantly, "I suppose it's to Little Huw we must go, with our caps in our hands, and ask his help in rescuing our sister."

"I don't think the two of us have ever agreed on so many things, all in one day, before," said the younger, and they spurred their horses into the hills in search of Little Huw.

They found him easily enough, for a flock of sheep moves slowly rather than quickly, and leaves quite a trail. He was sitting on a rock, with his belt and his gaiters about him, and he stood up when he saw them, and greeted them politely.

"Little Huw," said the elder, "we have wronged you, and now we need your help." And they told him what they had done, and that the giant had taken their sister.

Little Huw laughed when he heard their story, and they were angry. But they were so ashamed, and so frightened for their sister, that they didn't say anything, and Little Huw said, "I'll help you, but you must each do something for me."

"What's that?" they asked, worried, for they knew he could shame them before the whole district, and they would never lift up their heads again.

"Firstly, one of you must come with me, at least as far as the giant's tracks," said Little Huw. And the elder was so relieved he volunteered at once, in case the other condition was much worse.

"And secondly," he said, "the other must watch the sheep while I'm gone. Now let's be about it before it gets any later."

So the younger brother stayed with the sheep, and the elder rode back towards where they had left the giant's track. Little Huw wished on the giant's gaiters, and sure enough, he could run seven times faster than he could without them - as fast again as his own speed, for each time the gaiters went around. He kept up with the horse easily, and Wag, who ran all day over the hills herding the sheep, kept up with him, his tail fluttering in the wind.

They found the giant's track quickly enough, and Little Huw said for the elder brother to wait there for him, and he would bring his sister back. And he ran on into the hills.

By now it was early evening, and the light was beginning to fail. The giant's tracks were very clear, though, for the sheep had not grazed here recently, and Little Huw could tell by the crushing of the long grass where the giant had passed. He followed the trail up a deep valley, back into the high hills where he had never been before, and certainly not as it was getting dark.

As the valley went up, it narrowed, and the walls curved towards each other until they met overhead, and it was a cave. Now Little Huw knew, as everyone does, that giants live in caves, so he was hardly surprised at this. A fire was burning in the cave (he could smell it), and a sheep cooking over it (he could smell that, too). And he could hear a girl's voice and what sounded like the voices of four giants, but he knew from the description the lord's sons had given it was really only one. And they were arguing, the giant and the girl.

He crept closer to the cave mouth, so he could hear, and this is what he heard.

"And I tell you I don't care if that's the way you've always done it. That's no way to cook mutton, and if you're bent on ruining your dinner, well and good, but you shan't ruin mine."

"Girl, if you don't keep silent, I shall take that mutton off the fire, and I shall cook you instead of it, and do it the way I please."

"Nonsense. You'd never dare, for my brothers are coming to rescue me, and they'll make you pay for any harm you've done me."

"Will they, now?" said the giant. "Well, let them pay for this!" And he whistled.

The next thing Little Huw heard was "Thwack! Thwack!" and the sound of the lord's daughter screaming. He remembered what the second giant had said, and guessed at once what was happening. Sure enough, when he peeped around the corner, there was the magic stick, with the giant controlling it with whistles like Little Huw did Wag, and it was belabouring the lord's daughter with blows.

Now Little Huw could whistle, as well as any giant, or better, and when he saw the situation he set up a whistling of his own. For though the giant was big, as big as four men, Little Huw had the magic belt and the magic gaiters, and he was smarter than the giant, as well, and he wasn't afraid. The stick stopped beating the girl and hovered in the air, twisting this way and that in response to the two lots of whistles.

The giant stopped whistling, and let out a roar; and that was his mistake, for now Huw could control the stick by himself. There was no room to swing his sling in the entrance to the cave, but he picked up a rock and threw it with the strength of the magic belt, and it answered well enough. The giant took it in the eye, and roared again. Little Huw began whistling things that the giant had, and watching the stick to see which way it moved, while pelting the giant with rocks to keep his mind off any whistling of his own.

The girl, meanwhile, had grabbed up an abandoned mutton-bone, and slipped into the shadows at the back of the cave. The giant's four heads all pointed straight ahead, so he couldn't see behind him. Little Huw saw what she was doing and used the stick, which he could now control, and more rocks to drive the giant back towards her.

Just as the giant was pursing all his lips to whistle the stick away, the lord's daughter brought the knobbed end of the bone down on the back of one of his necks. He roared, and staggered forward. She jumped on his back, hanging onto one of his necks with one arm and beating him about the heads with the other.

By this time, Huw had got far enough into the cave to use his sling, and with his fivefold strength he drove a stone its own depth into one of the giant's foreheads. The stick cracked another of his skulls, and the muttonbone landed on a third. The giant fell forward, and the girl rolled off as his faces hit the fire. Her mutton-bone knocked the roasting spit loose at one end, and the heavy carcass on it drove it deep into the giant's back. With one last great roar, the giant died.

"That was well done," said Little Huw.

"Who are you?" asked the girl, all haughty. "Ugh - and get that dog off. I don't like dogs."

"Well then," said Little Hugh, "you needn't travel with one," and he whistled the magic stick to his hand, and Wag to his side, and wished on the magic gaiters, and ran off into the night.

He reached the girl's brother soon enough, and sent him to get her. The lord's son had been worrying that Little Huw would ask to marry his sister, and thinking he could hardly refuse, but he saw soon enough there was no chance of that. Little Huw didn't trust people that Wag didn't like, and much less people that didn't like Wag.

He ran back to the sheep, and relieved the younger brother and sent him to join the elder. "And what tale you tell of it," he said, "is none of my concern."

The tale they told of it was that their brave sister had slain the giant - which was nearer the truth than their own giant-killing claims; and that they had helped - which was not. She was ready enough to forget the shepherd boy and his dog and fall in with her beloved brothers. And ever after, Giantsbane was the name of all that family thereabouts, and they were regarded as great heroes.

But Little Huw had the magic belt, and the magic gaiters, and the magic stick, and his good dog, and a clear conscience, besides. And which was the most valuable, I'll leave to your judgement.

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