“Never fear,” laughed his tormentor; “this cannot harm you. It is only a knife;” and he made a pretense of cutting the tip of Wulli’s horn.
The Rhinoceros could only glare at him who dared take such liberties. Never had he been so teased.
“We have had our fill of rocks,” he said coldly. “Where did you leave the little red animal. You say it is asleep.”
“Yes. Only when I blow in its face to feed it, will it awaken.”
“What does it eat?” Hairi asked.
“Sticks and leaves; the drier the better. Green ones make it sick.”
“How odd,” the Mammoth remarked. “A grass-eater and yet green things make it sick. Where does it sleep?”
“In the cleft—the Cave Lion’s path. He is afraid of it and will not return while it is there.”
“Then he stays away most of the time?” said the Mammoth.