In the distance, made plain by the brilliant light of the sun, he saw a tremendous castle with many-turreted immense sides. It shimmered and danced in the brilliant light, like a mirage conjured by a fevered mind. Yet he knew, without being told, that it was real--as real as the three tiny men who regarded him with passionately intent though oddly frightened eyes from a few feet off. But sight was not the only sense of which Jenkins had the full use. He was aware of an odd, rumbling sound in the distance, as of thunder, yet not quite thunder. He noticed that the gnomes had also heard the sound, for their eyes turned from their intent regard of him, to the castle perched on the mesa in the distance. He could not see their eyes now, yet he was aware that they held fear--cold, numbing fear--fright so great it binds the entrails, makes a stone statue of a man, even a dwarf. They held their poses even after the dying sounds of the strange rumble had passed in the distance. When Jenkins spoke, it took several seconds for them to bring their attention to him: "Where am I and who are you?" Their answering voices were childish pipings, making even less sense of a confused situation: "I am Loti ..." said the smallest, who wore a fringe of beard from his forehead all the way around a pointed, slat-like chin. "I am Gaino," said the second. He had a hooked nose so long it almost touched his chin. "I am Mikas," said the third, who had a round face, a bulbous nose whose color was that of a ripe tomato, flapping pointed ears too large for his face, and a pair of perfectly round eyes. "Yeah? But where am I?" Jenkins persisted. "In the land of Gnat," all three piped in unison. Slowly the brain-fog was clearing for Jenkins. The miracle of his landing safely was still not quite clear, nor could he understand the presence of these odd beings. But as reason returned to Jenkins, it told him something had happened which would perhaps be unexplainable. He pointed toward the castle and said: "Who lives there?" "Lucretia ..." they answered again in unison. Now there's a familiar name, Jenkins thought, while at the same time a horrifying idea occurred to him. If it were Lucretia Borgia, he thought, then he might be dead. Suddenly, there was a spine-chilling roar, a vast crashing in the underbrush close by, and a tremendous boulder sailed by and disappeared over the lip of the chasm. Its crashing echoes could be heard for a long time afterward. When Jenkins recovered his balance, the gnomes had disappeared. Jenkins' eyes narrowed in search of them, but after one look at the thick underbrush, he turned aside and began to search for a path leading either through the brush or down the steep sides of the cliff. There wasn't much choice, he discovered. In fact, there was no choice at all. * * * * * "Ho-ho!" a stentorian voice bellowed, seemingly from at his very heels. "Look what we have here!"