Pic and the Mammoth had passed around the crevasse and were putting it behind them as fast as they could when several shrill squeals rang out and startled them nearly out of their wits. Both stopped and looked back up the incline they had just descended. The sounds seemed to have come from the ice-blocks and hummocks at the top. Hairi’s mouth was wide open; his eyes were nearly popping from his head. Man and elephant stood rigid, listening, but all was now quiet. The squeals were not repeated.

“That voice,” said the Mammoth in an awed whisper. “How strange. It seems as though I had heard it before.” The two friends were still staring up the slide, when suddenly, without a sign of warning, a shaggy beast hove in sight at the top and shot down like a toboggan. It stood upright with feet spread far out. Had the creature’s legs been longer so as to elevate its center of gravity, it must have toppled over and tumbled ingloriously to the bottom. However, its legs were like four stout pegs. This made the weight hang low and the downward glide was completed right side up. As the newcomer coasted along the level, its speed slackened and gradually it came to a stop. This happened to be right in front of the two friends. Here it stood, motionless, with eyes shut tight.

“Wulli! My own Wulli! Where did you come from?” bellowed the astonished Mammoth, staring as in a dream at his partner, whose dramatic arrival had occurred so suddenly and unexpectedly.

The Woolly Rhinoceros did not respond. He had made up his mind that he was falling into that dreadful hole and would be dead when he struck the bottom. He seemed to be sliding dreamily through space, falling more slowly every moment instead of faster as he should have done. The end was surprisingly calm and peaceful, for he reached eternity without a jar. Then sounded sweet music—the voice of the one he loved best. His was a happy journey to the golden gates, too unreal to believe. He opened one eye. There stood Pic and the Mammoth in the flesh. He began to feel grave doubts. “Am I dead?” he inquired feebly. “If so, cover me with stones and do not let the hyenas eat me.”

He spoke in the hushed voice of a departed spirit; that made it funny. Pic forgot his surprise and laughed loudly. “What makes you think you are dead?” he asked, and laughed again.

“I fell in that awful hole,” simpered Wulli, still unconvinced. “Every bone in my body is broken, and yet, strange to say, I feel quite comfortable.”

“Why not?” Pic demanded. “You only slid down that hill and you are not hurt a bit. What brought you here?”

“Brought me?” Wulli shed his angel wings and opened his other eye. “I don’t know,” he replied. “My legs, I guess.”

“He must have followed us,” said the Mammoth, his surprise fast changing to joy as he realized that he was really looking upon the Woolly Rhinoceros. “It is wonderful that we three can be together again.”

“Four of us would be better,” Pic muttered sadly. On being thus reminded of Kutnar, Wulli assumed an air of the deepest gloom. He told of his affair with the Cave Beasts and how he had come upon the trail of the Hyena Man and the smell of blood.

“Whose blood?” groaned Pic. His face had become deadly pale.

“Kutnar’s,” Wulli replied. “Several drops were on the ground. A stone-stick lay near them.”

Pic’s knees trembled. He spread out his hands as though to save himself from falling. “Dead? I can’t believe it,” he said in a dazed sort of way. “Why should Gonch kill the boy? And yet—Agh, I am so afraid. We were closing in upon them and the miscreant may have murdered him to save himself. You saw nobody?”

“No,” answered Wulli.

“And there was not much blood?”

“Very little; almost none.”

“Strange,” muttered Pic. “The boy may be yet alive. Then there is the ax; that puzzles me. Why did not the traitor take it with him?” Thus he aroused hope in his own breast, but this soon changed to depression. The next moment he raged and cursed Gonch for killing his boy and finally gave himself up to the deepest despair. The two animals watched these changing moods, with much concern. “I do not believe that the boy is dead,” said Hairi trying to comfort him.

“Nor I,” added Wulli.

“Nor I.” This third voice was a mere squeak and it seemed to come from the ground.

“Who said that?” Pic looked up at his friends, then at the ice about him.

“I said it and I mean it,” squeaked the voice again. It came from a little rat-like animal which was sitting upon its hind legs a short distance away. Its white fur made it almost indistinguishable from the hard-packed snow. Pic was the first to see the little creature. He pointed to it. His friends stared as though they could not believe their eyes.

“Obi!” squealed the Woolly Rhinoceros.

“Wulli!” piped the midget in response.

The Mammoth’s trunk reached toward the squeaks, whereupon he who made them ran up the trunk and jumped off onto one of the huge tusks. Here he perched bolt upright looking first at the Rhinoceros then at the Mammoth, out of his small beady eyes.

“It is Obi,” said Hairi delightedly. “How good it feels to see him again.”

Obi the Lemming danced up and down like a good fellow. He loved to be appreciated and was now enjoying himself thoroughly. “You know that I go wherever the ice goes,” he replied in his thin voice. “Some think me good for nothing because I am so small; but let me tell you something, big Trog-man, friend of all animals. Your young one has run away but he is alive.”

Pic could scarcely believe his ears. “Alive? how do you know this?” he asked.

“I saw him.”

“Where?”

Obi pointed a stubby paw westward. “He was with a Trog-man who wanted to kill me. The boy had that piece of skin he throws stones with. He threw at me but he made a nice face and I knew that he meant no harm. The stone flew wide and so I got away.”

Glorious news! Pic grinned from ear to ear. He howled and danced for very joy. The world now appeared all sunshine, for Kutnar was alive. Hairi caught the spirit of his master and endeavored to imitate him, dancing up and down and shaking his tusks so violently that the Lemming was forced to jump off. He slipped on the ice and sat down with a bump. Pic laughed, Wulli squealed and Obi squeaked at the sight. Even the Mammoth forgot how to look sad. He got upon his feet again thereby throwing his friends almost into convulsions. His fall had ripped a large patch of wool from his trousers’ seat. He knew nothing of this, which made it all the more comical, seeing that the joke was on him. The whole world looked bright and gay just then. The crevasse was screamingly funny; the booming torrent, sweet music; and Pic solemnly vowed that the air had grown quite warm. Everybody agreed to all of this, simply because Kutnar was alive and now they could go on their way again with light hearts to look for him.

Finally when all were sufficiently quieted down to talk matters over, Pic turned to Obi and said, “Never will I forget the sunshine and comfort you have brought us. Some day I may repay this service. And now you must go with us and show the way?”

The Lemming was greatly disturbed by this latter suggestion. “Go with you?” he squeaked in a most solemn manner. “No, that would not be right. I just came from there. You have forgotten that a Lemming cannot go to the same place twice in one season.”

At this, Pic looked so disappointed, Obi really felt sorry for him. “It would be dreadful for me to go twice to the same place,” he explained. “I go wherever the snow and ice is but I would die if I covered the same ground twice. I really could not think of such a thing.”

Obi was a Scandinavian and a most conscientious little animal. He was a tireless rover but like the Mammoth and Rhinoceros, he preferred cold to warm weather and only ventured south when there was plenty of ice. He took his traveling very seriously as though it were a most important duty. Some animals believed it was he who arranged the winter season, for no matter when and where he appeared, there was sure to be ice and snow behind him. Seeing that his scruples forbade his accompanying the party to a region he had so recently visited, he did the next best thing, giving most careful instructions as to the route Gonch and Kutnar were traveling. “If you fail to find the way, ask any animals you meet and they will set you right,” he said; and then it was good-bye and good-luck to Obi and the party proceeded without him.

The line of journey was now changed to the west and slightly north. Apparently the Muskman had not continued in a straight line but had turned due west, thus avoiding the Pyrenees Mountains over which our friends were now traveling. The passage over these mountains was most difficult. Now it was up, up until they stood far above the clouds amid bleak wastes of ice and snow; then down, down into the almost bottomless valleys with their tangled shrubbery and swirling streams. So it went with constant repetition until the party covered more distance to the sky and back to earth again than they did in a horizontal line. The Woolly Rhinoceros in particular, found this sort of touring most trying. It was not so bad going up but the coming down part terrified him. He was no mountaineer and he lost his head completely whenever he realized that the ground beneath him was no longer within easy jumping distance. In such circumstances, he stopped and squealed like a big booby, too frightened to move either up or down. This failing soon made him a nuisance to Pic and the Mammoth who were managing fairly well and making no complaints. Finally when Wulli balked for about the fiftieth time, the Mammoth lost patience. The Rhinoceros stood in front of him, squealing “Oowee, oowee!” and blocking the way. He snorted impatiently, then seized Wulli’s tail with his trunk as though to drag him to one side, whereupon the Rhinoceros proceeded briskly onward. Hairi released his hold and the Rhinoceros stopped. The Mammoth took a fresh grip and Wulli responded by moving on once more. Most extraordinary! but Hairi asked no questions and held on to his partner’s tail, for he saw that it produced results. Pic who had been an interested spectator, finally remarked: “Wulli is afraid of falling. As long as you hold his tail, he will fear no more.”

This was quite true. A simple remedy but the cure was immediate and complete. The Rhino’s tail was but a bit of frayed rope and would not have withstood a fraction of his weight. Wulli’s new sense of security may have been fancied but what of it? The Mammoth held his tail and that was enough. From then on, they got along finely, sailing up and down without a hitch and whenever Wulli showed symptoms of balkiness, the Mammoth cured him instantly by taking a grip on his tail.

They met the Chamois and the Ibex and the Snow Grouse, one after another, and learned that they were following the right path. The two first-named animals knew the direction only in a general way but the Snow Grouse flew about a great deal and kept himself well informed as to what was going on. From him, Pic learned that a tribe of cave-men lived far to the east on that side of the mountains which faced the sea. By continuing due west, the party would pass along the southern or opposite side of these mountains. Here they would be protected from the bitter winds and could cross to the north side at the proper time.

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