The BFG
Journey to Dream Country
After the mad frobscottle party was over, Sophie settled herself again on top of the enormous table.
‘You is feeling better now?’ asked the Big Friendly Giant.
‘Much better, thank you,’ Sophie said.
‘Whenever I is feeling a bit scrotty,’ the BFG said, ‘a few gollops of frobscottle is always making me hopscotchy again.’
‘I must say it’s quite an experience,’ Sophie said.
‘It’s a razztwizzler,’ the BFG said. ‘It’s gloriumptious.’ He turned away and strode across the cave and picked up his dream-catching net. ‘I is galloping off now,’ he said, ‘to catch some more whoppsy-whiffling dreams for my collection. I is doing this every day without missing. Is you wishing to come with me?’
‘Not me, thank you very much!’ Sophie said. ‘Not with those other giants lurking outside!’
‘I is snuggling you very cosy into the pocket of my waistcoat,’ the BFG said. ‘Then no one is seeing you.’
Before Sophie could protest, he had picked her up off the table and popped her into the waistcoat pocket. There was plenty of room in there. ‘Is you wishing for a little hole to peep out from?’ he asked her.
‘There’s one here already,’ she said. She had found a small hole in the pocket, and when she put one eye close to it, she could see out very well indeed. She watched the BFG as he bent down and filled his suitcase with empty glass jars. He closed the lid, picked up the suitcase in one hand, took the pole with the net on the end in the other hand, and marched towards the entrance of the cave.
As soon as he was outside, the BFG set off across the great hot yellow wasteland where the blue rocks lay and the dead trees stood and where all the other giants were skulking about.
Sophie, squatting low on her heels in the pocket of the leather waistcoat, had one eye glued to the little hole. She saw the group of enormous giants about three hundred yards ahead.
‘Hold your breaths!’ the BFG whispered down to her. ‘Cross your figglers! Here we go! We is going right past all these other giants! Is you seeing that whopping great one, the one nearest to us?’
‘I see him,’ Sophie whispered back, quivering.
‘That is the horriblest of them all. And the biggest of them all. He is called the Fleshlumpeating Giant.’
‘I don’t want to hear about him,’ Sophie said.
‘He is fifty-four feet high,’ the BFG said softly as he jogged along. ‘And he is swolloping human beans like they is sugar-lumps, two or three at a time.’
‘You’re making me nervous,’ Sophie said.
‘I is nervous myself,’ the BFG whispered. ‘I always gets as jumpsy as a joghopper when the Fleshlumpeating Giant is around.’
‘Keep away from him,’ Sophie pleaded.
‘Not possible,’ the BFG answered. ‘He is galloping easily two times as quicksy as me.’
‘Shall we turn back?’ Sophie said.
‘Turning back is worse,’ the BFG said. ‘If they is seeing me running away, they is all giving chase and throwing rocks.’
‘They would never eat you though, would they?’ Sophie asked.
‘Giants is never guzzling other giants,’ the BFG said. ‘They is fighting and squarreling a lot with each other, but never guzzling. Human beans is more tasty to them.’
The giants had already spotted the BFG and all heads were turned, watching him as he jogged forward. He was aiming to pass well to the right of the group.
Through her little peep-hole, Sophie saw the Fleshlumpeating Giant moving over to intercept them. He didn’t hurry. He just loped over casually to a point where the BFG would have to pass. The others loped after him. Sophie counted nine of them altogether and she recognized the Bloodbottler in the middle of them. They were bored. They had nothing to do until nightfall. There was an air of menace about them as they loped slowly across the plain with long lolloping strides, heading for the BFG.
‘Here comes the runty one!’ boomed the Fleshlumpeater. ‘Ho-ho there, runty one! Where is you splatch-winkling away to in such a hefty hurry?’ He shot out an enormous arm and grabbed the BFG by the hair. The BFG didn’t struggle. He simply stopped and stood quite still and said, ‘Be so kind as to be letting go of my hair, Fleshlumpeater.’
The Fleshlumpeater released him and stepped back a pace. The other giants stood around, waiting for the fun to start.
‘Now then, you little grobsquiffler!’ boomed the Fleshlumpeater. ‘We is all of us wanting to know where you is galloping off to every day in the daytime. Nobody ought to be galloping off to anywhere until it is getting dark. The human beans could easily be spotting you and starting a giant hunt and we is not wanting that to happen, is we not?’
‘We is not!’ shouted the other giants. ‘Go back to your cave, runty one!’
‘I is not galloping to any human bean country,’ the BFG said. ‘I is going to other places.’
‘I is thinking,’ said the Fleshlumpeater, ‘that you is catching human beans and keeping them as pets!’
‘Right you is!’ cried the Bloodbottler. ‘Just now I is hearing him chittering away to one of them in his cave!’
‘You is welcome to go and search my cave from frack to bunt,’ the BFG answered. ‘You can go looking into every crook and nanny. There is no human beans or stringy beans or runner beans or jelly beans or any other beans in here.’
Sophie crouched still as a mouse inside the BFG’s pocket. She hardly dared breathe. She was terrified she might sneeze. The slightest sound or movement would give her away. Through the tiny peep-hole she watched the giants clustering around the poor BFG. How revolting they were! All of them had piggy little eyes and enormous mouths. When the Fleshlumpeater was speaking, she got a glimpse of his tongue. It was jet black, like a slab of black steak. Every one of them was more than twice as tall as the BFG.
Suddenly, the Fleshlumpeater shot out two enormous hands and grabbed the BFG around the waist. He tossed him high in the air and shouted, ‘Catch him, Manhugger!’
The Manhugger caught him. The other giants spread out quickly in a large circle, each giant about twenty yards from his neighbour, preparing for the game they were going to play. Now the Manhugger threw the BFG high and far, shouting ‘Catch him, Bonecruncher!’
The Bonecruncher ran forward and caught the tumbling BFG and immediately swung him up again. ‘Catch him, Childchewer!’ he shouted.
And so it went on. The giants were playing ball with the BFG, vying with each other to see who could throw him the highest. Sophie dug her nails into the sides of the pocket, trying to prevent herself from tumbling out when she was upside down. She felt as though she were in a barrel going over the Niagara Falls. And all the time there was the fearful danger that one of the giants would fail to catch the BFG and he would go crashing to the ground.
‘Catch him, Gizzardgulper!’ …
‘Catch him, Maidmasher!’ …
‘Catch him, Bloodbottler!’ …
‘Catch him! … Catch him! … Catch him! …’
In the end, they got bored with this game. They dumped the poor BFG on the ground. He was dazed and shattered. They gave him a few kicks and shouted, ‘Run, you little runt! Let us be seeing how fast you is galloping!’ The BFG ran. What else could he do? The giants picked up rocks and hurled them after him. He managed to dodge them. ‘Ruddy little runt!’ they shouted. ‘Troggy little twit! Shrivelly little shrimp! Mucky little midget! Squaggy little squib! Grobby little grub!’
At last the BFG got clear of them all and in another couple of minutes the pack of giants was out of sight over the horizon. Sophie popped her head up from the pocket. ‘I didn’t like that,’ she said.
‘Phew!’ said the BFG. ‘Phew and far between! They was in a nasty crotching mood today, was they not! I is sorry you was having such a whirlgig time.’
‘No worse than you,’ Sophie said. ‘Would they ever really hurt you?’
‘I isn’t ever trusting them,’ the BFG said.
‘How do they actually catch the humans they eat?’ Sophie asked.
‘They is usually just sticking an arm in through the bedroom window and snitching them from their beds,’ the BFG said.
‘Like you did to me.’
‘Ah, but I isn’t eating you,’ the BFG said.
‘How else do they catch them?’ Sophie asked.
‘Sometimes,’ the BFG said, ‘they is swimmeling in from the sea like fishies with only their heads showing above the water, and then out comes a big hairy hand and grabbles someone off the beach.’
‘Children as well?’
‘Often chiddlers,’ the BFG said. ‘Little chiddlers who is building sandcastles on the beach. That is who the swimmeling ones are after. Little chiddlers is not so tough to eat as old grandmamma, so says the Childchewing Giant.’
As they talked, the BFG was galloping fast over the land. Sophie was standing right up in his waistcoat pocket now and holding on to the edge with both hands. Her head and shoulders were in the open and the wind was blowing in her hair.
‘How else do they catch people?’ she asked.
‘All of them is having their own special ways of catching the human bean,’ the BFG said. ‘The Meatdripping Giant is preferring to pretend he is a big tree growing in the park. He is standing in the park in the dusky evening and he is holding great big branches over his head, and there he is waiting until some happy families is coming to have a picnic under the spreading tree. The Meatdripping Giant is watching them as they lay out their little picnic. But in the end it is the Meatdripper who is having the picnic.’
‘It’s too awful!’ Sophie cried.
‘The Gizzardgulping Giant is a city lover,’ the BFG went on. ‘The Gizzardgulper is lying high up between the roofs of houses in the big cities. He is lying there snuggy as a sniggler and watching the human beans walking on the street below, and when he sees one that looks like it has a whoppsy-good flavour, he grabs it. He is simply reaching down and snitching it off the street like a monkey taking a nut. He says it is nice to be able to pick and choose what you is having for your supper. He says it is like choosing from a menu.’
‘Don’t people see him doing it?’ Sophie asked.
‘Never is they seeing him. Do not forget it is dusky-dark at this time. Also, the Gizzardgulper has a very fast arm. His arm is going up and down quicker than squinkers.’
‘But if all these people are disappearing every night, surely there’s some sort of an outcry?’ Sophie said.
‘The world is a whopping big place,’ the BFG said. ‘It has a hundred different countries. The giants is clever. They is careful not to be skiddling off to the same country too often. They is always switchfiddling around.’
‘Even so …’ Sophie said.
‘Do not forget,’ the BFG said, ‘that human beans is disappearing everywhere all the time even without the giants is guzzling them up. Human beans is killing each other much quicker than the giants is doing it.’
‘But they don’t eat each other,’ Sophie said.
‘Giants isn’t eating each other either,’ the BFG said. ‘Nor is giants killing each other. Giants is not very lovely, but they is not killing each other. Nor is crockadowndillies killing other crockadowndillies. Nor is pussy-cats killing pussy-cats.’
‘They kill mice,’ Sophie said.
‘Ah, but they is not killing their own kind,’ the BFG said. ‘Human beans is the only animals that is killing their own kind.’
‘Don’t poisonous snakes kill each other?’ Sophie asked. She was searching desperately for another creature that behaved as badly as the human.
‘Even poisnowse snakes is never killing each other,’ the BFG said. ‘Nor is the most fearsome creatures like tigers and rhinostossterisses. None of them is ever killing their own kind. Has you ever thought about that?’
Sophie kept silent.
‘I is not understanding human beans at all,’ the BFG said. ‘You is a human bean and you is saying it is grizzling and horrigust for giants to be eating human beans. Right or left?’
‘Right,’ Sophie said.
‘But human beans is squishing each other all the time,’ the BFG said. ‘They is shootling guns and going up in aerioplanes to drop their bombs on each other’s heads every week. Human beans is always killing other human beans.’
He was right. Of course he was right and Sophie knew it. She was beginning to wonder whether humans were actually any better than giants. ‘Even so,’ she said, defending her own race, ‘I think it’s rotten that those foul giants should go off every night to eat humans. Humans have never done them any harm.’
‘That is what the little piggy-wig is saying every day,’ the BFG answered. ‘He is saying, “I has never done any harm to the human bean so why should he be eating me?”’
‘Oh dear,’ Sophie said.
‘The human beans is making rules to suit themselves,’ the BFG went on. ‘But the rules they is making do not suit the little piggy-wiggies. Am I right or left?’
‘Right,’ Sophie said.
‘Giants is also making rules. Their rules is not suiting the human beans. Everybody is making his own rules to suit himself.’
‘But you don’t like it that those beastly giants are eating humans every night, do you?’ Sophie asked.
‘I do not,’ the BFG answered firmly. ‘One right is not making two lefts. Is you quite cosy down there in my pocket?’
‘I’m fine,’ Sophie said.
Then suddenly, once again, the BFG went into that magical top gear of his. He began hurtling forward with phenomenal leaps. His speed was unbelievable. The landscape became blurred and again Sophie had to duck down out of the whistling gale to save her head from being blown off her shoulders. She crouched in the pocket and listened to the wind screaming past. It came knifing in through the tiny peep-hole in the pocket and whooshed around her like a hurricane.
But this time the BFG didn’t stay in top gear long. It seemed as though he had had some barrier to cross, a vast mountain perhaps or an ocean or a great desert, but having crossed it, he once again slowed down to his normal gallop and Sophie was able to pop her head up and look out once more at the view.
She noticed immediately that they were now in an altogether paler country. The sun had disappeared above a film of vapour. The air was becoming cooler every minute. The land was flat and treeless and there seemed to be no colour in it at all.
Every minute, the mist became thicker. The air became colder still and everything became paler and paler until soon there was nothing but grey and white all around them. They were in a country of swirling mists and ghostly vapours. There was some sort of grass underfoot but it was not green. It was ashy grey. There was no sign of a living creature and no sound at all except for the soft thud of the BFG’s footsteps as he hurtled on through the fog.
Suddenly he stopped. ‘We is here at last!’ he announced. He bent down and lifted Sophie from his pocket and put her on the ground. She was still in her nightie and her feet were bare. She shivered and stared around her at the swirling mists and ghostly vapours.
‘Where are we?’ she asked.
‘We is in Dream Country,’ the BFG said. ‘This is where all dreams is beginning.’