“Owk, the Cave Lion,” said the Mammoth, suddenly remembering what he was there for. “Where is he? How did you come here?”
“I live here,” was the answer. “I have lived in this valley ever since I can remember. Do you see that cave?”—the Ape Boy pointed to the dark opening in the rock-wall,—“It is mine. I sleep there.”
“Then we have come to the wrong place.”
“Yes and no. The Cave Lion lived there too but that was when I was away. When the cold weather came, I had to find shelter, so I drove him out.”
Hairi and Wulli pricked up their ears at this. Of all animals, Grun Waugh was a tough customer, as they well knew. As experts they took no small pride in their ability to tame him. But lo and behold! here was a puny Trog Boy who spoke of ousting him from his den as though that were a simple matter indeed.
“Drove him out, did you?” the Rhinoceros snorted. “Oo-wee! How did the Cave Lion like that?”
“He was angry,” replied the Ape Boy with a bland smile; “Arrah, so angry! He absolutely refused to be driven away at first; but I was determined that he must go. The air became so cold, I had to find shelter. You would not expect me to stay there with him in it, would you?” he demanded.
By this time Wulli’s professional pride was deeply wounded.
“We came to rid that den of its owner, Grun Waugh,” he said. “But now that he is gone, you who can manage the brute so easily may serve our purpose even better.” In spite of his endeavor to appear calm, Wulli’s voice jerked perceptibly.
The Ape Boy set his jaws tightly together and glared at the Rhinoceros.