VIII
No matter how the Flamp compass was twisted, the needle pointed steadily to the mountains before them, and the children marched bravely forward. They were hungry and tired, but Tilsa would as soon have thought of asking Tobene to carry her as of turning back. As for Tobene, he put one foot before the other as firmly as he was able, and tried to forget the loss of his treasures.
The worst part of the journey was clambering over the hot rocks when the mountains were reached, and the travellers did at last lose their resolute cheerfulness, and had just sat down in the shade to have a good cry, when they suddenly heard the sound of singing. Not exactly singing; rather a melancholy droning, or chanting, as of a dirge. Listening intently, they could make out these words:
I'm not in the least in love with life;
I might be, p'raps, if I had a wife
To care for me in a wifely way,
Or a neighbour or two to say good-day,
Or a chum
To come
And give me the news in a friendly talk,
Or share a duet or a meal or a walk.
But all alone in the world am I,
And I sit in a cave,
And try to behave
As a good Flamp should, with philosophy.
I shan't last long, for the cave is damp,
And nothing's so bad for a Flamp
As cramp....
'It's the Flamp!' said both children together, fearfully.
The chanting began again, and Tilsa and Tobene jumped up and, following the sound of the voice, came to a wide and heavily-trodden path between two rocks. They plodded along it until, rounding a crag, they perceived immediately before them a yawning cave. Although the singer was out of sight, the noise made by him was now almost overwhelming and so dismal that the children were on the point of joining in the lamentation themselves.
A few steps more brought them in sight of the melancholy songster. Seated in a corner of the cave, with his massive head on his fore-paws, the picture of dejection, was the most enormous creature they had ever seen or dreamed about. He was rather like an elephant, but much more immense and without a trunk: a huge, ungainly, slate-coloured animal.
He did not hear them, but sat rocking to and fro in his corner, moaning lugubriously.
'Toby,' said Tilsa, who now was not in the least alarmed, 'can you cough?'
'I'll try,' said Toby, and he coughed.