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The speaker was Zibe Turner, a creature who would pass for a Calaban. A monster he was except his legs, which were short and slim, giving him a dwarfish appearance. So he was a monster dwarf, if such a term is allowable. His head was immense in size, covered with long unkempt hair. His shoulders, arms and trunk would become a giant.
A look at his face showed a low forehead, black, restless eyes, wide apart, flat nose, and large mouth. Like Calaban he could be called "hag-seed," or the son of a witch and a devil. His moral nature was as misshapen as his body. His mind was degraded, yet keen in plotting mischief and violence. His affections were debased.
Preston went to the steamer Calaban which was to land them at Buenos Ayres. They found that there was some confusion about their luggage and boxes, and it took them the better part of a day to get the tangle straightened out, and their stuff stored together in one hold.
But if the circus man could have seen the "clergyman" at that same time looking over letters addressed to "Hank Delby," and signed "Wayland Waydell" he would not have been so confident. Mr. Preston bade good-bye to his friends, the gangplank was hauled up, and a hoarse blast came from the whistle of the Calaban. "Bless my pocketbook!" cried Mr. Damon. "We're off!"
I don't care a bit whether Don Giovanni is a Calaban or an Antinous All the same," she laughed, "had I better tidy my hair or does it not matter?" The tourists were all filing out of the castle now, and as the porter locked the doors, the princess shook hands with the little American. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said, "you have been real kind.
"Yep, off t' git dat big, giant orchard plant," chimed in Eradicate. "Hush!" exclaimed Tom, who did not like the use of the word "giant" even in that connection. "Don't tell everyone our business, Rad." "Dat's right, Massa Tom. I clean done forgot dat it's a sort of secret. I'll keep mighty still 'bout it." The Calaban swung out into the river and began steaming down the bay.
It seemed that the slight fire was about all the excitement destined to take place aboard the Calaban, for, after the blaze was so effectually quenched, the ship slipped along through the calm seas, and it was actually an effort to kill time on the part of the passengers.
Prospero's description of Calaban applied to him: "Abhorred slave which any print of goodness will not take Being capable of all ill." The words of Saint Paul to the sorcerer fitted him: "O full of all subtlety and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness."
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