Little Tom sat down on the big cylinder, waiting to see what would
happen and wondering what tortures lay before him. Resolutely, he said
to himself that he would not scream, no matter if the spectres should
tear him into little pieces.
Suddenly, the cylinder under him moved and shook so that he nearly fell
off; but he caught hold of the chain and lay quite still, stretched out
to his full length. Then he saw something bright, and directly above him
move, and the giant tooth of a great wheel bent over and caught him by
the coat. Tom thought that his torture was about to begin, but he
resolved that he, would not give up easily; so, bravely grasping the
tooth itself, he pulled himself up with all his strength until he sat
astride the great wheel.
Now, he felt easier, but the wheel started to move carrying him still
higher. In a moment, he was lifted high above the great cylinder and saw
another wheel, with other great teeth approaching, which fitted closely
into the notches of the wheel on which he sat and, with powerful force,
turned it up and up. He was afraid that he would be caught between the
two, so climbing over his wheel, he worked his way back to the cylinder;
but this was also moving, so that he could not stand upright on it. As
his eyes had by this time become accustomed to the darkness, he saw
about him in every direction, wheels, levers, teeth and cylinders.
Everything was moving and turning around. Poor little Tom was suddenly
snatched by a great metal talon which almost tore out his shoulder and
he was terribly pinched, squeezed and pressed.
Setting his teeth so that he would not cry out, he drew his dagger and
cut away a piece of his coat, which was already caught between the two
cylinders, and sprang blindly to one side, not knowing where he would
land. His hand touched an upright steel post which he grasped firmly
and, climbing upward, he reached a great globe that seemed to stand
quite still. Here he felt safe for the moment, but he knew that this was
not the end of his tortures.
Close to the globe was a large, metal vessel, to which he clambered and,
working his way to the top, where it was fastened, sat down to rest. He
hoped that this would not move. From his safe perch he looked below him
into the tangle of wheels and teeth and levers, where everything was
rustling, growling, and whirring. From all this he had barely escaped
with his life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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