All came to a stop and looked up. On the opposite side of the gorge, about fifty feet above the level on which they stood, a cavity opened in the face of the limestone wall,—a mere hole, but one of Nature’s landmarks built to endure for a thousand generations—the Cave of the Neander Gorge.
“And now my work is done,” said the Pied Raven. “The mountain and cave are there; the stone rests in the entrance. I leave them to you. Good-bye and good-luck.”
With a bound, he was high in the sky soaring westward before any one of the trio realized that their goal was reached and that their guide had taken his departure.
“Strange that he chose to take his leave without seeing the treasure,” said Pic as he watched the dark speck disappear in the distance.
“He might have helped us further,” the Mammoth sighed. “The cave is beyond our reach. Only a bird could get up there.”
“Up, yes,” laughed Pic who had been studying the cliffs above the cave. “But why not down? I can reach it from the top.”
The rock fell sheer and smooth from the dark hole; but above it, sharp corners and crevices suggested the possibility of a descent from the plateau above; a venture which appealed strongly to Pic. It was no easy matter to reach the cave but well worth the trying.
After a brief search, he discovered a cross-cleft which made it a simple matter for him to descend to the level of the Düssel. The stream was now frozen over sufficiently to bear his weight. Hairi and Wulli stood still and watched. They saw him cross the ice, moving diagonally up-stream to where a portion of the great rock-wall had crumbled and fallen, thereby forming a rugged incline or causeway from base to summit. Pic ascended this causeway with no great difficulty. He reached the top, and then proceeded downstream along the heights until he stood almost directly over the cave some one hundred feet below him. He waved his arm and shouted to his friends on the opposite crest; then slowly and with a skill born of long experience, he began the perilous descent, clinging to every projecting corner that gave him a secure hold. He held his ax-handle between his teeth, thus leaving both arms free. To the Mammoth and Rhinoceros, he appeared like a fly crawling down the face of the rock.
He reached the cave at last and leaped down to the threshold, ax in hand all ready to do battle with any who might resent his visit. But no fierce enemy leaped forth; no sound came from within. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim inner light, he saw that the cave was a small one and unoccupied except for a pile of something lying in one corner.
“An eagle’s nest,” he muttered. “The Mammoth was right. Only a bird would choose such a place for his home.”