The Leader of the Cave Hyenas Brings News
“I have not yet told all,” the giant bone-breaker resumed. “The Hyena Man—our friend, if I may be so bold to say it—is now doing even better. Already he has set upon the Ape Man.”
Grun Waugh licked his flewed lips as though anticipating a feast. His purring became a gargle. He gave an attentive ear to the balance of Crocut’s thrilling account to the accompaniment of Scrag’s nose-racking snores. The Ape Man meant Pic. All flesh-eaters called him that and hated him most cordially into the bargain. Grun Waugh hated him worst of all, for it was whispered among beasts that this Ape Man, when a boy, had dethroned their royal monarch, the Lion. None dared speak such words aloud, but it was no secret that the puny Trog-boy had once driven Grun Waugh from the Grotto of Moustier and, having taken possession, had successfully resisted repeated attempts to dislodge him. It was only fair to explain that this same Trog-boy had not acted in an entirely honorable manner. He had employed fire as his chief means of defense, and, of course, fire was a thing that no beast, however brave and strong, could contend with.
Crocut explained that the stranger had not attacked the Ape Man directly, but it would seem that he had done even better. He had robbed him of his whelp and was now fleeing southward. The whole valley was in an uproar over the matter. Already the Ape Man had hurried off in pursuit, riding upon his friend the Mammoth. If they caught the Hyena Man, it would go hard with him. It was unfortunate and Crocut wished that the fugitive might in some way elude his pursuers, but the Mammoth was swift of foot, and there was no telling what might happen.
Grun Waugh leaped to his feet and gave vent to a thunderous roar. “And so the Mammoth and Ape Man are pursuing the Hyena Man,” he said fiercely. “Meddlers! We will follow and chastise them for interfering.”
Crocut wilted. He hung his head and looked about him as though seeking an avenue of escape. It began to look as though there might be some fighting, and, of course, he wanted to keep clear of that. “In your absence, I——” he began, and then held his peace, for Grun Waugh’s cold green eyes were directed full upon him.
“You will go with us, of course,” said the Cave Lion, biting his moustache and thereby displaying his huge canine teeth. “You began this, and now you must see it through. Come, Scrag.”
The prodigal son yawned and stretched his limbs; then with a wry face stood erect and wiped the sleep from his one good eye. Crocut groaned inwardly. Although a bone-breaker of the first order, he aimed at all times to be numbered among the spectators whenever there was fighting to be done. However, the Cave Lion had spoken, and there seemed no way out of it. And so, under his guidance, the three hurried down the river bank to the Dordogne, where they picked up the Mammoth’s trail and followed it across the stream to the southland beyond.