A few moments afterwards, the grey-haired man appeared at the entrance, armed with a spear.
"Back, Mummolin!" cried he.
The huge animal reluctantly obeyed; and not until the old man had threatened it with his spear, did it retreat growling.
"Your dog ought to be killed, and hung up nine feet over your door, until it fell to pieces," said Ekkehard angrily. "It nearly made me fall over into the lake," turning round, and beholding the lake lying at his feet, from the perpendicular height.
"In the Heidenhöhlen the common laws have no force," defiantly replied the old man. "With us, 'tis--keep off two steps, or we split your skull."
Ekkehard wanted to go on.
"Stop there," continued the stranger, barring the passage with his spear. "Not so fast if you please. Where are you going to?"
"To the old man of the Heidenhöhle."
"To the old man of the Heidenhöhle?" angrily repeated the other. "Have you no more respectful term for that personage, you yellow-beaked cowl-bearer?"
"I know no other name," replied Ekkehard somewhat abashed. "My greeting is, neque enim."