Part 3

“Perhaps the little fat one knows,” the Ape Boy continued. “Do you?” and he held the flint in front of Wulli’s nose.

A spasm of rage seized the Rhinoceros on hearing himself addressed in such a disrespectful manner. “Oo-wee! No,” he squealed angrily.

“Never fear,” laughed his tormentor; “this cannot harm you. It is only a knife;” and he made a pretense of cutting the tip of Wulli’s horn.

The Rhinoceros could only glare at him who dared take such liberties. Never had he been so teased.

“We have had our fill of rocks,” he said coldly. “Where did you leave the little red animal. You say it is asleep.”

“Yes. Only when I blow in its face to feed it, will it awaken.”

“What does it eat?” Hairi asked.

“Sticks and leaves; the drier the better. Green ones make it sick.”

“How odd,” the Mammoth remarked. “A grass-eater and yet green things make it sick. Where does it sleep?”

“In the cleft—the Cave Lion’s path. He is afraid of it and will not return while it is there.”

“Then he stays away most of the time?” said the Mammoth.

“He comes here much more than I like,” the Ape Boy replied. “I often leave for food and water—and flints too. I leave my fire burning but sometimes it goes out. Then, like as not, I find the Cave Lion all settled here when I return. If so, I smoke him out again. He goes away growling and waits around for another chance.”

“To step in when you step out,” chuckled the Mammoth who was beginning to understand this novel see-saw arrangement.

“Exactly. You see there are not enough caves for everybody,—that is, men and animals. When a cave-man leaves his home, even for a short time, he is liable to find some animal occupying it when he returns. We have fierce battles sometimes. I cannot fight the Lion with a flint-ax. He is too big and strong; so I use fire.”

“Are you a cave-animal?” the Mammoth asked.

“Not a really true one. I live in a cave half of the time and am half animal so that makes me only half a cave-animal.”

“What is the other half?” inquired Wulli suddenly becoming interested.

“Man, I guess;” the Ape Boy looked thoughtfully at the ground and began twisting a stick with his toes.

“What is a man? Why is he not an animal?” the Mammoth demanded.

“I scarcely know, myself; but man is different. He walks on his hind legs, hunts, lives in a cave and——”

“The Bear does all that,” Wulli interrupted. “What else?”

“He uses fire—those red tongues and white clouds.”

“Polecats make bad smells. There must be something else.”

“He makes flint tools.”

The Rhinoceros had no reply ready for this statement, whereupon Hairi hastened to answer:

“Animals never crack rocks and they are proud of it. I am glad that I am not a man. They hide in caves and are ashamed to show themselves.”

“Flint-making is work to be proud of,” the Ape Boy retorted. “Were it not for that, men would be nothing but beasts.”

Haiti and Wulli both frowned. This last remark seemed to reflect upon themselves.

“So you think yourself better than us because you can crack rocks?” the Elephant sneered.

“Certainly,” was the prompt answer. “Men can rule the world if they will; but only with the flint can they do it. When once they learn to make proper weapons none can withstand them. They have not yet learned; but the time will come;” and the Ape Boy gazed at the blue sky like one inspired.

“Umph! Fine big words,” the Rhinoceros sniffed. “But these same men scatter and run like rabbits whenever we meet. I have no quarrel with them but they are not friends of mine.”

“Nor mine;” the Ape Boy scowled and said this with such emphasis that his visitors stared.

“You say first one thing and then another,” Hairi grumbled. “What do you mean? Are not the Trog-men your friends?”

The question aroused the Ape Boy as if by magic. His deep-set eyes blazed like two coals of fire. His lips parted in a snarling grin, fiercer than that of a mad wolf. Every muscle in his body swelled and quivered.

“I hate them,” was all he said; but every word reeked with loathing and contempt.

“Why?”

“They cast me out,” the youth fairly howled. “It is not enough that I make weapons for hunters and warriors. They would have me be a hunter and warrior too. Men hated me because I would neither hunt nor fight.”

“Can you not fight?” demanded the Rhinoceros scornfully. “Even a squirrel——”

“I can,” the Ape Boy cut him short.

“But I heard you say otherwise,” Wulli snorted.

“I can if I will,” the other corrected. “That is different.”

“Are you afraid to fight?”

“I have held my own against Grun Waugh these many days,” the Ape Boy replied simply. “Have I shown fear of the Mammoth and Rhinoceros?”

“No;” Wulli gave an emphatic grunt. “You have not; but I fail to understand,” and he looked thoughtfully at the ground as though at a loss what to say next.

“When I was young,” the youth continued; “none frowned upon my doing the work I like best—making flint tools and weapons. I could make them well—better than any grown man or woman—although I have always striven to do better. I did little else, but finally the time came when my people thought me big and strong enough to play a man’s part. They gave me an ax and dart and sent me forth with our best fighters.”

“That was right,” Wulli observed with an emphatic shake of his head.

“But I refused to fight.”

“Oo!” The Rhinoceros was greatly distressed.

“And I would not hunt.”

“Hunt what?”

“Animals; the Stag, Horse and other grass-eaters.”

“Um,” Wulli blinked stupidly. “But you refused to fight?”

“Yes, I refused.”

“What did your people say about that?” Hairi asked.

“They were very angry,” the Ape Boy replied. “Had not my father interfered, I would have been killed. But no longer would they permit me to live among them, so I was cast out to live alone, a renegade, enemy of men. Since I would not do just as they wished me to, they said that I was not one of them. I came here, to the only other home I had ever known; and here I have lived until you came, alone and without companions, man or beast.”

“Terrible,” Hairi sniffed, deeply touched by the last sentence of this narrative. “I nearly died of loneliness one cold season when the Tundr-folk went away and left me by myself. I have one good friend; no better can be found. Why not a second—yourself? The Mammoth, Rhinoceros and Ape Boy—we three could rule the world if we willed. Come; join us.”

“But I am a man,” replied the surprised youth. “Men would frown upon me as a beast and traitor.”

“Have they not already done so?”

The Ape Boy’s lips curled in a hideous snarl: “I hate them.” His distorted face expressed only contempt and loathing.

“And you will join us?”

“But you object to my flint-making,” protested the youth; and yet as a recluse and foe of men, he inwardly viewed the other’s suggestion with no little favor. “I cannot give it up. I would rather make flints and abide alone than put them aside for the Mammoth and Rhinoceros.”

“We do not object to your flint-making,” Hairi replied. “We merely cannot see why you choose to do it. Will you join us?”

The Ape Boy looked from one to another of the pair and hesitated. They were huge, superb creatures; his heart warmed.

“Why not?” a voice within him asked. “What friends more wonderful than the Mammoth and Rhinoceros, could a lone man wish? Forget those who drove you into the world an outcast and throw in your lot with this mighty pair.”

He hesitated. “But the Rhinoceros; are his wishes the same as yours? He has not yet spoken.”

“He and I think as one,” Hairi answered quickly. “Is it not so, Wulli?”

But the Rhinoceros failed to respond. Wearied by the conversation, he had fallen asleep with head hung low upon his ample chest.

The Ape Boy peered into his face and grinned: “Doesn’t he look odd that way; so big, fat and peaceful? We might do something; just to tease him; run away and hide. We can go down into the valley and be back in time to find him wondering what has become of us. He will be surprised when he awakens.”

“He may be vexed as well,” the Mammoth replied gravely. “Wulli is odd about some things; a bit too serious-minded. He might take offense.”

“Then we must make him change his ways. We will be gone but a short time. He can easily find us if he tries.”

Hairi yielded reluctantly, for a prank at his friend’s expense filled him with misgiving. The Ape Boy tip-toed to the edge of the terrace, then suddenly turned and came back.

“He might think we have fallen from the Rock, when he awakens. This will teach him better.”

So saying, he picked up a chunk of rotten wood—short and hollow through the center. This he jammed over the tip of Wulli’s horn firmly and yet so quietly that the sleeper merely groaned but did not open his eyes. He then hurried away with the Mammoth and both descended into the valley. They talked and tramped about, looking at this and that but taking no heed of passing time and the twilight fast gathering about them. Finally the Ape Boy turned and looked up at Moustier now dim and hazy above him in the dusk.

“It is growing late,” he said anxiously; “too late for us to find our way up in the dark. What shall we do?”

“I fear that we must stay where we are,” the Mammoth replied. “I know that I could never climb up there in the dark.”

“What if the Cave Lion returns?”

“Wulli can manage him alone, although I would not wish to have it so; but how are we to mend matters?”

Nothing more could be done so the pair proceeded to make themselves comfortable for the night. The Ape Boy snuggled up against the Mammoth’s warm coat and was soon asleep, which latter example his companion was not slow to follow.

All this time the Rhinoceros remained asleep upon the Rock of Moustier, unconscious of his own solitude. Oncoming night cast its first twilight shadows over the valley and highlands. The bats came forth from their hiding-places and fluttered about the cliffs and ledges on nimble wings. Not until the chirping of crickets and distant cries of night-roving animals heralded the fast-gathering dusk did he awaken, yawn and look about to find himself alone.

It took him but a moment to see how very much alone he was. As he gazed wildly about him, he saw that the Mammoth and Ape Boy were gone. He ran to one side of the terrace and looked down into the dark depths; not a sign. A quick dash to the other side produced no better results. The Mammoth had disappeared. Gloomy thoughts tormented the Rhinoceros; he became frantic.

“Oo-oo-oo! he has fallen from the rock or something terrible has happened. Hairi would not have left me alone unless——” He stopped, for at that moment he caught sight of the chunk of rotten wood firmly wedged on the tip of his horn. He gasped, sniffed and his brows contracted with terrible rage. For the second time, his glossy weapon had been the sport of others; once by the Ape Boy, now by——

“This is the Mammoth’s work,” he squealed, working himself into a frenzy. “He shall pay dearly when I meet him again.”

He strove to shake loose the offending object but it stuck tight in spite of all he could do. Wulli’s rage passed all bounds. It was too late for a descent or search for his missing companions. In a storm of fury at his own helplessness, he again stepped to the edge of the terrace and peered into the black depths. A single misstep might mean a fall and a broken neck. He shivered at the thought. The clammy night mists came floating about his ears. They enveloped the terrace in a hazy fog. He was cold, lonesome and beside himself with rage. A dark shapeless blotch on the rock-wall suddenly attracted his attention,—the grotto whose dark entrance offered him its shelter. With bitterness in his heart, Wulli backed away from the ledge into the gloomy hole. Here he stood stamping his feet until mind and body yielded beneath the strain and once more he fell into a sound sleep.

V

The first rays of the morning sun penetrated the grotto and awoke the sleeping Rhinoceros. For a moment he gazed about him, wondering where he could be. Voices sounded outside—whispers. Slowly his senses returned, and with them remembrances of the previous night’s unpleasant experience. Aha! so the Mammoth and Ape Boy had returned. Now for his part. With deadly calmness, he stepped to the mouth of the grotto.

A most unexpected sight met his gaze. The Mammoth and Ape Boy had not returned at all. In their stead, a fierce group sprawled upon the rock platform. Their backs were turned toward him; but Wulli knew them at once as the beasts of prey, the flesh-eaters of the caves. Stretched at full length, lay Grun Waugh the Cave Lion with a Lioness seated by his side. A little apart squatted the Hyena and Cave Wolf.

“A wonderful place,” the Lioness was saying. “None but an eagle would presume to choose a home so high above the valley.”

“None but me you mean, my dear,” Grun Waugh gently but firmly corrected.

“Yes, none but you, of course,” the Lioness replied. “Is the cave unoccupied?”

“Hagh-gh-h!” Grun Waugh turned his head away and licked his singed whiskers. “That miserable Ape Boy I told you of, has taken to coming here. Between the two of us—you and I—we should now be able to keep him and his little hot beast away.”

“We might choose another home,” said the Lioness; “one that requires less climbing. There is Sha Pell—a charming cave and empty too or at least it was when I last passed that way.”

“Full now,” the Wolf humbly ventured to remark. “A man has just moved in—a man blind in one eye. He looked sick to me.”

“A sick man you say—and blind?” the Hyena asked. “That interests me. There was a blind man, leader of the Ape Men whom I have often seen while waiting around their camp for scraps of meat and other good things. I remember him well. He was old. He had grey hair. I had hoped soon to know him better. And so he is sick. If my lord will excuse me, I will now take my humble leave and pay my respects to this man who lives alone in Sha Pell and who is old, sick and blind in one eye.”

He was slinking away when Grun Waugh stopped him.

“Hold!” he growled. “I will go with you. Man’s flesh would be a welcome change. There will be enough left for you when the carcass grows cold. Stay here, my dear,” he said to the Lioness. “You and the Wolf can have the Ape Boy for your portion—when he returns.”

The Hyena who had been listening to his master’s bidding with a thwarted hang-dog air suddenly raised his head and began sniffing vigorously in all directions. Finally his twitching nose pointed towards the grotto and held still. His ears stood erect. He burst into an uproarious mirthless laugh:

“Hee-hee, ha-ha, wah-ho!” The other three animals looked around to seek the cause of his hilarity and were amazed to see the head of a rhinoceros protruding from the mouth of the grotto.

A scene of wild confusion followed. Grun Waugh sprang snarling to his feet while the Lioness made ready to dash in when he gave the signal.

The Rhinoceros saw in a moment that he was the surprise of the party; that his presence was neither welcome nor expected. He settled back again into his refuge, with horn lowered, legs squared and fully prepared to give a good account of himself.

Grun Waugh snarled angrily as he observed how securely the Rhinoceros was placed. No way to overpower him by numbers. The grotto protected his flanks and rear. His horn guarded the entrance. The matter was one requiring serious thought. He ceased snarling. To him, the Woolly Rhinoceros was a well-known character; an animal to be treated with the utmost caution and respect. He closed his jaws so that Wulli’s suspicions might be lulled by the concealment of red mouth and threatening teeth. His great claws withdrew into their sheath-pads. In a twinkle, the Cave Lion, according to his own ideas, was transformed into a lamb; but his tail writhed and squirmed—a fact which had not escaped Wulli’s notice. Beasts with squirming tails were not to be trusted.

“Prrr, prr, prr: there stands our old neighbor the Woolly Rhinoceros,” he purred in his most friendly manner. “I never knew you could climb mountains. How did you get here?”

“We walked,” the Rhino replied in a chilly voice. His piggy eyes kept close watch and he refused to move an inch from his secure retreat.

“We?” Grim Waugh pricked up his ears and looked nervously about him. “Who? Where?” he asked.

The question reminded Wulli of the wrong done him the evening before.

“The Mammoth. He ran away and left me alone,” was his sullen response. “But my turn will come next. Wait and see.”

“Oho!” thought the Lion. “The Mammoth and this rascal have quarrelled.” Of course Hairi must be somewhere near. Grun Waugh had almost forgotten him, although fully aware of the friendship between the pair which did not meet with his approval. Either the Rhinoceros or Mammoth was a difficult proposition for the strongest flesh-eater to contend with. Combined, they were invincible. He saw that Wulli was cherishing some grudge against his partner and inwardly vowed that the breach must be widened at any cost. Once divided, the pair could be dealt with, singly, thereby insuring greater chance of success.

“Hagh! I am not surprised that you are vexed,” he said with an effort to instil a bit of sympathy into his voice. “No animal could endure what he says about you.”

This was going a trifle too fast. Wulli preferred fighting his own battles.

“Oo-wee!” he squealed; “I have not asked your advice. Fun is fun and hurts nobody.”

Grun Waugh saw that he must begin again. He caught sight of the wood-chunk on Wulli’s horn and took a shot at random:

“Hagh! even so. You could not find the heart to be angry even though somebody fastened a piece of wood on the end of your horn.”

The Rhino winced and bit his lips. He was hard hit. The shot had told.

“Perhaps the Mammoth meant no harm,” the Lion continued much pleased with the rapid progress he was now making; “but little things often hurt; the things he says about you.” Grun Waugh shook his head sadly and glanced at the sky.

“Umph; what does he say?” Wulli demanded irritably. “Nothing that I know of.”

Grun Waugh turned to his mates with an air of: “There, I told you so. He doesn’t know.”

The Lioness licked her lips and assumed an expression of mysterious wisdom. The Hyena leered and ducked his head. The Cave Wolf doubled up to kick at a flea on his neck as he always did when noticed by his superiors.

“It is not for me to conceal the truth,” the Cave Lion replied. “The Mammoth says that you are an inferior animal—a Moo Hoo. It seems a strange thing to say.”

“Inferior animal?” Wulli cried. “He never said that to me.”

“He would be a Moo Hoo himself if he did,” said the Lioness with a leer.

“Quite right, my dear,” observed Grun Waugh with an approving nod. “We must credit the Mammoth with some sense. He waits until the Rhinoceros is beyond his hearing when he speaks of the fat little creature he has made friends with.”

“And horned pig—do not forget that,” added the Cave Wolf; and once more be doubled up to claw the back of his head. The Hyena emitted a fiendish laugh; in fact all viewed these tributes to the Rhinoceros with the utmost good-nature; all but Wulli. He was simply furious. He remembered well that the Mammoth always treated him in a free-and-easy manner—but friendly too, so he had not objected. The remarks he had just heard might have sounded differently if delivered to him first hand; but they were absolutely insulting in the mouths of others. He bit the ground with rage. The Cave Beasts exchanged satisfied glances. Things were progressing finely. No need of pushing matters too fast.

“I suppose the Ape Boy too has been annoying you,” purred Grun Waugh. “None but his paw could have fastened that piece of wood on the tip of your horn.”

Wulli’s ears pricked up quickly then flopped down again. “Umph,” was all he said.

“Mischievous little animal—that Ape Boy,” said Grun Waugh. “He was even worse before he had his tail pulled off when he jumped around in the trees.”

“Ho-ho, haw-haw-haw!” howled the Hyena in fiendish glee. “Lost his tail; he-he! Now he has to stay on the ground.”

“And now he is pretending to be a man,” the Lioness sniffed. “Miserable ape-beast hiding in a man’s skin. Hagh-h! Who would associate with him?”

“Too bad that the Rhinoceros has such untrustworthy friends,” said the Cave Lion in a choking voice. “We like him personally but he chooses bad company.”

These remarks were coldly received. Wulli remained stubbornly on his guard and the terrible nose-horn ever covered his enemies ranged about the mouth of the cave. “You attend to your own affairs. I will manage mine,” was his grim response.

Grun Waugh ground his teeth. He longed to spring upon the Rhinoceros and tear him to shreds but hesitated to impale himself upon that terrible nose-horn. He bit his lips perplexed and wondered what course to pursue. His associates fidgeted uneasily. They were unaccustomed to seeing their leader at a loss before any mere grass-eating animal. The fierce King of Beasts felt that his honor and dignity were at stake. He must act promptly to clear himself in the eyes of his friends.

Grun Waugh nodded to those behind him and settled down until his chest and stomach touched the ground. He was about to give the signal for attack by dashing upon the Rhinoceros, when a faint thump, thump, sounded below the terrace. He pricked up his ears and glanced in that direction. The other Cave Beasts too had heard. They faced about and stood motionless, listening intently to the sound of heavy feet plodding up the slope. Suddenly a wind-puff wafted an odor to their nostrils, clear and unmistakable to all:

“The Mammoth! The Hairy Elephant! Here he comes.”

“To the ledge,” whispered the Cave Lion. “Hagh! Take your places quick, before he sees us.”

Without a sound, the four animals glided to the edge of the terrace and took positions commanding the Mammoth’s point of approach. Here they crouched low and watched the approaching Elephant without themselves being seen.

To Wulli, these queer actions were of no great interest as they did not seem to concern himself. However it might all mean some trickery to coax him from his refuge. “When in doubt, play safe,” was his motto for the time being, so he refused to budge.

His ears suddenly caught the sound of ponderous feet laboring up the slope. His nostrils swelled and sniffed in that direction as he waited with legs stiffly braced, tail rigid for the something about to happen. In a moment the peak of a great shaggy head thrust itself above the ledge followed by an uplifted trunk and long curling tusks rising higher with every step.

Like a flash, the sight of the Mammoth brought back to Wulli the memory of his wrongs. Once more the fires of wrath burned fiercely within his breast. He took a deep breath, lowered his horn and emerged from the grotto fully prepared and determined to give his partner a warm reception. Then his heart gave a great bound as a loud scuffling sounded upon the terrace—a bedlam of cries and rushing feet. He saw the Cave Beasts lying in ambush, rise from their places of concealment and dash upon the Mammoth. He heard the latter’s terrified bellows, the snarls of the Wolf, the Hyena’s laughing howl mingled with human cries and the roaring of lions.

Wulli looked down at his fore-feet much disturbed. The Cave Beasts seemed determined to interfere in his own personal affair. Hairi must be punished, of course, but this was his quarrel and one not to be entrusted to meddling strangers. The tumult was increasing in violence with every passing moment and still he remained motionless, debating within his mind what was to be done next.

VI