“His Fall Had Ripped a Large Patch of Wool from His Trousers’ Seat”
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.
