“I do believe，” thought Jill， “that all the stories about giants might have come from those funny rocks. If you were coming along here when it was half dark， you could easily think those piles of rock were giants. Look at that one， now！ You could almost imagine that the lump on top was a head. It would be rather too big for the body， but it would do well enough for an ugly giant. And all that bushy stuff.I suppose it‘s heather and birds’ nests， really.would do quite well for hair and beard. And the things sticking out on each side are quite like ears. They‘d be horribly big， but then I dare say giants would have big ears， like elephants. And.o. o.oh！ .”
Her blood froze. The thing moved. It was a real giant. There was no mistaking it； she had seen it turn its head. She had caught a glimpse of the great， stupid， puff.cheeked face. All the things were giants， not rocks. There were forty or fifty of them， all in a row； obviously standing with their feet on the bottom of the gorge and their elbows resting on the edge of the gorge， just as men might stand leaning on a wall.lazy men， on a fine morning after breakfast.