“Come on, then, and turn your axe. Don’t be afraid to strike with the handle. It is a trick being played upon us.”
“Take care, herr—take care!” said Melchior, in an excited whisper, as a couple more pieces were thrown, to shiver against the stones.
“Yes, I’ll take care,” said Dale angrily, as he pressed on. “Hold your axe handle in front of your face, Saxe.”
At that moment there was a rushing sound, and the goat darted by them, startling all for the moment; but Dale went on, and now reached the second angle.
He was in the act of passing round, when the same great hideous face came into view, with the eyes rolling and the great mouth opened, showing crooked blackened teeth. It was so hideous that Dale stopped short, with his blood seeming to curdle; and when he recovered himself and looked again, the face was gone.
“You saw!” whispered Saxe.
“Yes, I saw. What is it?—a gorilla?”
At that moment a hideous, bellowing roar came echoing down the ice grotto, sounding so low and inhuman that it needed all Saxe’s determination to stand fast.
“What are you going to do?” whispered the boy.
“Act like a man, sir,” said Dale firmly. “Here, Melchior, can you explain this—a hideous face, like that of some deformity—a dwarf?”