The three friends crossed a stream which flowed into the Vézère from the
west and continued up the border of the valley, over meadow and rock-land
and through almost impenetrable thickets. Finally the Mammoth halted and
gazed at the limestone cliffs above his head.
“This is the place,” he said. “If you look closely, you will see a dark
hole in the rock.”
Pic looked and saw. His curiosity rose to a high pitch. “Wait here while
I climb up,” he directed and then set his ax-handle between his teeth.
“Ha-ha, wa-ho!” laughed a voice from on high.
Hairi and Wulli jumped. Pic gazed along the face of the cliffs.
“What was that? It sounded like a man’s voice. Perhaps a man is in the
cave.”
All three held still and listened, but the cry was not repeated.
Pic again made ready to ascend. He gripped his ax between his jaws and
started off.
The approach to the cave was but a pile of broken rocks and easily
scaled—particularly by one inured to ascending almost perpendicular
walls; and so Pic made rapid headway to the top. As he neared the cave, a
foul odor greeted his none too sensitive nostrils. The rocks were strewn
with freshly-gnawed bones.
“The owner of that grotto must be a big meat-eater,” he thought as he
examined the wreckage. “And such mighty jaws.” Some of the big limb-bones
were bitten in two. One in particular, a bison thigh, was minus the lower
end. It had been chewed off, as the tooth-marks plainly showed.
“Ha-ha,” the uncanny laugh rang out once more. Pic braced his feet and
stood on the defensive. A hideous face leered down upon him from the
cave-mouth. Another and yet others crowded forward from behind until a
dozen or more big-eared heads were gathered awaiting his coming.
Pic lowered his ax and laughed back: “Ha-ha;” but he was wise and
advanced no farther. He knew these creatures well enough and now felt
ashamed because they had so startled him. The cave was a den of hyenas;
cowards at heart except when at home as now where they were fully
prepared to fight any and all intruders.
There was nothing left for Pic but to go back and rejoin his friends.
This he proceeded to do without delay. When the Mammoth and Rhinoceros
became advised of how matters stood, they were much disturbed.
“Why should a few hyenas frighten you?” Wulli snorted in disgust. “Only
yesterday I walked close by a whole pack of them.”
“Were they in their cave?”
“No—out in the meadow eating a dead ox,” replied the Rhinoceros.
“That is different,” said Pic. “Now they are at home. You might go up
yourself and drive them out if you can.”
Wulli glanced up the slope and cocked his head thoughtfully. Such a
climb would more than tax his fullest powers. “Hyenas never stay at home
nights,” the Mammoth now remarked. “If we wait here until dark, they will
come out; then you”—looking at Pic—“can climb up and find the treasure.”
This sounded reasonable, so the three waited. The hours dragged slowly by
and it seemed as though night would never come; but it did, of course.
As the sun finally sank behind the cliffs, Pic and his companions saw
dark figures emerge from the cave, one by one, and seat themselves on the
rocks about the entrance. The brutes laughed and growled noisily but not
a single one of them showed any inclination to descend.
“They will not come down while we remain here,” said Pic as his comrades
began to stamp their feet and show other signs of impatience. “They do
not need to see; they smell us. Hyenas have sharper noses than any other
animals I know of.”
“Particularly for dead things,” said the Mammoth.
“And sick ones, too,” the Rhinoceros added. “Once when I had a sore on
my hind leg, I thought they never would stop following me around; nor
did they until I was well again. I have seen droves of them trailing
after sick animals that they could have killed without trouble, had they
courage and sense enough to do it. One cannot have a tooth-ache but these
beasts will soon know of it.”
“If you were only sick now, you might persuade the lot of them to come
down and follow you,” said the Mammoth. “How is your health at this
moment?”
“Good,” Wulli was obliged to admit. Hairi despaired.
“He might only pretend to be sick,” Pic suggested. “Perhaps the hyenas
would not know the difference.”
“I am willing to try anything,” said the Rhinoceros. “What shall I do and
how shall I do it?”
In a few moments, Pic mapped out a plan of strategy as follows: He
and Hairi would withdraw and hide somewhere within earshot while the
Rhinoceros remained where he was. At a pre-arranged signal—the caw of a
crow—Wulli was to feign mortal illness. The details and manner of so
doing would be left to him. However it was important that he drag himself
down the valley and draw the hyenas after him. In the meantime, Pic would
steal back, enter the empty cave and secure the treasure. It sounded
simple. All three conspirators were confident of success. Wulli, the star
performer was the most impatient to begin.
“Be sure to act as though you were terribly ill,” were Pic’s final
instructions. “The sicker you seem, the faster will they follow. Groan,
squeal, make all the noise you can; the louder the better. Now if we are
all agreeable, let us begin.”
Pic and Hairi thereupon marched off in the darkness making all of the
noise they could, so that the hyenas would know of their departure. The
Rhinoceros was left behind. After waiting for several minutes,—which
seemed to him, hours—the night silence was broken by a distant cry—the
caw of a crow. At the sound, Wulli emitted a piercing wail and followed
it with loud, deep groans. In a moment, the rocks above him bustled with
activity—snarls, growls and the clatter of clawed feet. The hyenas were
descending the slope. Pic’s clever scheme was bringing quick returns.
As he saw the dark figures coming towards him, Wulli set himself in
motion; staggering, reeling, stumbling along the foot of the cliffs
and ever continuing to vent his bodily anguish with piteous groans and
squeals.
A mass of dark figures streamed down the slope to the valley and followed
after him. Their ears told them that a fat rhinoceros could be had for
the taking—a terribly sick rhinoceros or they were very much mistaken.
Having no doubts about the matter and not suspecting any double-dealing,
they trailed leisurely after him like a flock of sheep. They were in no
particular hurry. Judging from the cries they heard, the Rhinoceros would
be in proper condition for them within a reasonably short time.
For some distance, the forlorn procession continued in this manner. Only
Wulli’s despairing cries broke the stillness of the night. “They surely
must be far enough from that cave now,” he said to himself. “Oo-wee; it
is about time to stop. I wonder how long I am supposed to entertain these
brutes.”
He selected a spot at the base of the cliffs where he could set his back
to the rock and have foes to watch on three sides only; then flopped
down heavily upon his haunches and groaned. The hyenas squatted in a
semi-circle about him. Apparently the artful Wulli now observed them for
the first time. “Will any of you help me,” he wailed. “Oo-wee! I am so
sick! Cannot you see?”
“Are you too sick to fight?” inquired a sympathetic voice.
“Not quite,” replied the Rhinoceros cautiously. “I can still poke with my
horn a bit; but I fear I am going to die. My insides hurt terribly. They
have not held food for a week. Please stay with me,” he whined piteously.
A chorus of rude “Ha-has” greeted this touching appeal. “Trust us to
stay,” growled one of the brutes nearest him. “We will be with you to the
end; then you can be with us.”
At this merry quip, all ha-haed again.
Wulli began to weary of his task. Acting was not his specialty;
furthermore he was growing tired and sleepy. He closed his eyes and
nodded. The hyenas crowded up closer, thinking their turn was coming,
whereupon the Rhinoceros was compelled to bestir himself with his moaning
and groaning until they fell back to their proper places.
They were queer, uncanny brutes—these hyenas. Their stock of patience
seemed inexhaustible. They could sit around and wait all night if
necessary. The idea of attacking a full-grown living rhinoceros was
contrary to their training. No hurry at all, but it behooved Wulli to
keep things moving.
[Illustration: THE TIME CAME WHEN WULLI FAILED TO RESPOND]
The hours passed. For the Rhinoceros, they were an eternity of tortuous
effort to keep awake and play his part. Time and time again, his eyes
closed, his head drooped and the hyenas moved up closer; and each time he
came to with a start on sensing the nearness of his ghoulish visitors.
Then his despairing cries took a fresh spurt and the hyenas backed off,
only to return when he again became quiet.
But the time finally came when Wulli failed to respond. His admirers
crowded forward, amazed at his wonderful hold on life. His cries were
stilled so they hitched up closer, discreetly refraining from any
unseemly haste. They could hear his hard breathing and knew him to
be still alive although the end must be very near. For such a sick
rhinoceros, he had lasted unusually long, they thought; not that they
felt impatient; but even a second must not be wasted when once it was
time to commence.
One of them—a coarse, unmannered individual without proper hyena
training—reached out and tried his jaws on the Rhino’s rump. It was not a
real bite—a mere touch of the teeth; but his fellows resented this taking
an unfair advantage and growled angrily. Even these sounds failed to
arouse Wulli. Things were looking dark for him. Even hyenas had limits.
One and all crowded up closely with their noses touching those portions
of his body on which they planned to begin operations—and still, he slept
on.
Suddenly the hyenas pricked up their ears. The faint crashing of brush
and thump of ponderous feet could be heard coming up the valley. All
arose and slunk slowly away in the opposite direction for a score of
paces and then sat down again. Their eyes accustomed to the darkness,
made out a great, towering figure coming rapidly towards them.
The newcomer was the Mammoth. With his two friends gone about their
business and himself wearied by his long wait, he had followed the
Rhinoceros and come upon him and the hyenas in the nick of time.
Suddenly he perceived a dark mass, half-seated, half-lying on the ground.
His heart almost stopped beating. He recognized his partner’s form and
was filled with sinister foreboding. He was in the presence of death. At
that moment, Wulli heaved his fat sides, uttered a deep sigh and began
to snore. Hairi breathed again. He recognized the symptoms. His friend
merely slept.
Having thus assured himself that no harm had come to the Rhinoceros and
that he was only exhausted, the Mammoth lay down beside him to secure his
own night’s rest. Undecided just what course to pursue and unwilling as
yet to give up all hope, the hyenas seated themselves in a semi-circle
about the pair and waited.