“And I; oo-oo, my nose!” the Rhinoceros wailed. “Let us climb down again.”
So the two friends labored sideways down the steep terrace incline and were preparing to retreat along the main slope when a rustling sounded upon the rock-platform. There stood the Ape Boy watching them. His knees were bent forwards. His arms dangled with the palms of his hands turned backwards.
“Wait. Don’t go. Do come back.” He spoke so earnestly that the two animals paused. They saw him squat on the very edge of the terrace, perched like a bird with feet tightly gripping the shelving ledge. Each big toe was separate from its mates like a thumb. This peculiar arrangement enabled him to grasp the edge of the rock and hold himself securely anchored. No trace of red tongues or white clouds were to be seen about him. Hairi and Wulli made certain of this. They sniffed and sniffed but detected no alarming signs.
“What has become of the red animal with the bad, hot breath?” the Mammoth inquired.
At first the Ape Boy failed to understand, then his face expanded in an amused smile: “You mean fire and smoke. It is asleep now and I will not awaken it again if such is your wish.”
“It is,” declared Wulli emphatically. “I will not face it again.”
“I know,” the Ape Boy laughed. “All animals are afraid of fire. That is why I use it to fight them. The Cave Lion fears it too. Without it, I could never have driven him away. He could crush me with one blow of his big paw; but heat and smoke are too much for him.”
At this account of Grun Waugh’s discomfiture, the two animals were much interested.
“Tell us about him,” Wulli asked.
“And of yourself,” the Mammoth added. “Why do you live here alone?”