After several days’ journey, the three friends entered a broad valley bordered by low hills and gently rolling plains. This valley was too shallow to cause Pic and his comrades any serious concern. A clear view of the country was presented on all sides. No cliffs gave opportunity for hidden enemies to hurl down rocks or darts. No forests confronted them which might conceal cunningly arranged deadfalls or other traps. The slopes were bare except for coarse grass, sedge and rank growth. The Men of Kent seemed content that the prey for which they had striven so long and determinedly, should escape them at last. When the trio fled southward from the Thames Valley, they left their persecutors behind—presumably, for not a trace of them could be seen.

Pic felt no little surprise that the retreat of himself and companions was thus undisputed; but Hairi and Wulli showed no inclination to worry, so the matter passed from his thoughts. His fears subsided, his suspicions were lulled and he permitted himself a welcome feeling of security. All things pointed to an uninterrupted journey south and godspeed.

In the sheltered valley, the Mammoth and Rhinoceros found sufficient fodder to satisfy their wants. But grazing operations consumed much time. They reduced an otherwise rapid flight to a slow and orderly retreat. However, this mattered little. No unusual dangers had appeared and the three friends no longer considered themselves as hunted creatures fleeing through a hostile country. Even while passing through the Kentish Downs, they paid little attention to the narrowing, deepening valley and the mountains rising above them on both sides. Not until they found themselves in a narrow defile, did any one of the three realize that the broad valley had gradually resolved itself into a deep gorge flanked by almost perpendicular walls. This gorge terminated in a cleft or pass, beyond which spread a vast, gently-rolling plain—the fertile lowlands of the Kentish Weald. The pass was the sole means of reaching the open country unless the trio saw fit to retrace their steps and climb the valley slopes for a wide detour eastward. This latter course seemed a needless waste of time and effort considering the end to be attained. The straightest and shortest route was by all odds the best. It lay before them, so they kept on.

The Mammoth and Rhinoceros began to feel cramped for space to maneuver their big bodies. No longer did they graze their way along. They appeared more interested in the gorge itself than the food it contained. Their attention became devoted to scenery entirely—to the steep, forbidding walls which hemmed them in; the rock-strewn heights above their heads and the narrow cleft in front.

As they approached this latter, all three instinctively slowed up; just why Pic could only imagine. What an ideal spot for—yes, for what? A wave of apprehension suddenly swept over him. No chill wind blew down the gorge; but his hands and feet were become quite cold. He stole a furtive glance at his two friends. Hairi was stamping his fore-feet, flapping his big ears and otherwise acting strangely. Wulli was turning his head from side to side, testing the air with deep, noisy sniffs.

“This place seems to be growing too small for us,” said Pic, trying to appear calm; “Hairi is so big, he may never get through that hole.” He grinned a sickly grin that flashed up and died down again before the words were out of his mouth.

“It smells queer too,—this place does,” was Wulli’s disquieting response. “I wish we were somewhere else. Don’t you smell anything?” he suddenly asked his giant partner.

Hairi raised his trunk and made a thorough examination. His nose-tip swept the heights on both sides and ahead of him, like the nozzle of a hose. He lowered it at last, looked at Wulli and nodded gravely. Both animals came to a sudden halt.

“Why do you stop?” Pic inquired in studied surprise. “We must go on.”

“Such strange odors,” the Mammoth replied. “The smell of men——”

“Men?” Pic felt as though ants were crawling up his back.

“Oomp! Yes—men,” Hairi replied. “How strange; I thought we had left them far behind.”

“There may be a few, hidden in a cave somewhere among the rocks,” said Pic with a forced smile. “Have no fear.”

“A few? No, many,” snorted the Mammoth. “I smell them everywhere; on both sides and before us. The air is rank with their foul odor.”

“It is; he says right,” Wulli added. “The Trog-men are all about us. I smell nothing else.”

Cold sweat dampened Pic’s forehead. The moment called for a keen eye and clear head. He stepped in the lead of the party and looked about him. In his friends’ powers of smell and hearing he had unbounded faith. He mistrusted the sharpness of their eyes but considered their ears and noses infallible. He now watched the Mammoth who had raised his trunk a second time and was pointing it to the heights on his right. The Ape Boy looked in that direction. He dimly saw dark faces peering from behind the rocks which lay strewn along the high ground back from the edge of the gorge. Hairi’s trunk swung to the left;—more rocks and more faces peering down. Pic glanced behind him in dismay. What he saw, made his heart sink.

A wall of smoke filled the valley from height to height, greedily licked up the dry grass and sedge. Bright tongues of flame flashed from beneath. The meadows were afire.

Pic felt like a rat caught in a trap. The blazing meadows cut off all retreat. His enemies held the heights on both sides; but he could see none of them in the gorge itself; none in the pass. The trio must either go forward or retrace their steps through the wall of smoke and fire. The latter choice gave little hope. Neither the Mammoth nor Rhinoceros would face the things they most dreaded—red tongues and white, curling clouds. One glimpse of the terror behind them, and they would break loose in a wild stampede. The Ape Boy looked wildly about him. Advance or retreat—which? He must act quickly, for his friends were becoming more and more alarmed.

Thus far the two animals suspected nothing of the danger in their rear. They stood cowering with fear of the threatening human odors and the rocks which hemmed them in. In a moment, their thoughts would turn to the valley behind; their only chance of escape; and then—

“All is clear ahead,” Pic whispered. “There lies our safety. I can see through the cleft to where green pastures await us. Our foes lie concealed far back upon the heights. They must come much closer if they would stone and spear us. Move on and through before they cut us off.”

Thus encouraged, Hairi and Wulli set their great bodies in motion. Pic led the way, fully expecting to see a rush of dark figures hurrying to intercept them. But nothing of the sort occurred. Heads and faces appeared in plenty from behind every rock,—but no bodies. No hoarse cries arose amid a rush of hurrying feet. The heads craned eagerly forward and the faces stared down at the advancing trio; but they did nothing more and made no sound. The stillness of death was in the air. What did it all mean?

Pic was sorely perplexed. The strange inaction of his enemies was more terrifying than the din of battle. Perhaps he but led his friends into some hidden death-trap. His eyes searched the pass ahead,—the jagged walls, then the ground strewn with tree branches, fresh dirt and grass; and as he looked, his heart leaped almost to his throat.

“Hold!” he muttered in a low, fearful voice. “Not another step or we are lost.”

At that moment, the Mammoth turned his head to seek the meaning of a new and terrifying odor coming from behind. He saw a wall of red tongues and white curling clouds sweeping down upon him.

“Aree, owk, owk; run, run!” he screamed in a frenzy of fear. He and the Rhinoceros were about to dash forward in a wild stampede, when Pic sprang in front of him with ax upraised; his face threatening and terrible to see.

“Stand back!” he yelled. “For your lives stand back;” and the flat of his blade smote the uplifted trunk a resounding blow such as the great Mammoth had never known. Hairi reared back amazed. The blow had struck his most sensitive spot; but the insult delivered by a mere pygmy rankled more deeply than an open wound. With a scream of rage, he raised a ponderous fore-limb to crush the author of such an indignity, when the Ape Boy pointed to the ground almost beneath his feet.

“See! The pit; it is there.”

The Mammoth saw and shrank back in an agony of dread. The Rhinoceros cowered by his side. Both were terrified, stunned by this new horror.

“Stand Back! For Your Lives, Stand Back!”