“I can’t fight old Hungry Hawk,” answered the little Mountain Goat. “He’s too strong for me.”
“Dear, dear, dearest me!” cried the poor distracted Elephant, “then how can we save my little bunny friend?”
“I can help you climb the mountain,” answered the little Mountain Goat.
“Me?” enquired the big animal. “How could you help a great big elephant up this steep, right-up-and-down, mountain, I should like to know.”
“That won’t be so hard,” answered the little Mountain Goat. “Give me your lasso.”
Throwing the loop over his horns, the little Mountain Goat started to climb up the mountain side. First he jumped to a ledge of rock, then scrambled up sideways, then sideways the other way, then another jump, and perhaps two, and then a scramble.
After working his way up almost as far as the length of the long rope, he braced his forefeet against a rock and called down: “Pull yourself up with your trunk!”
Well, sir, that’s just what that big kind anxious Circus Elephant did. He took hold of that rope with his trunk and up he went, hand over hand—I mean trunk over trunk—just like a fireman, and by and by, pretty soon, not so very quick, he stood beside the little Mountain Goat.
“Good for you,” exclaimed that plucky little animal, as the Elephant took out his big pocket handkerchief to wipe his forehead. “You came up all right. Now wait here while I climb up higher.” Up and up went the little Mountain Goat, now sideways, now straight; now the other way sideways, then a jump and a scramble, or a scramble and a jump, or two jumps, or two scrambles till, by and by, not so pretty soon, but after a while, he called down; “Come on, pull yourself up!”
Then up went the big Circus Elephant trunk over trunk—now slipping and sprawling, or sprawling and slipping till, by and by, after a while, out of breath, with a dusty smile, he stood by the side of the little Mountain Goat.