After this Baby Jane's cavalcade trotted steadily on, and the Mountains rose higher and higher into the sky before them. It was hard to think that they were inhabited by bad creatures, for they were very beautiful. From rounded foot-hills of olive velvet, embroidered with glowing red-stemmed, black-capped pine trees, broad cliffs flanked by pinnacles, all of black marble veined with white, rose, step by step, to the snow-clad heights piled up against the sky like thunder-clouds passing away.
They had wondered why they had met none of the enemy; and now they saw the reason, for up the foot-hills a never-ending line of beasts was winding among the pine trees and disappearing into a great cleft in a marble cliff. With the Bear leading, and now all on foot, the little party calmly joined in the procession, and such was their air of self-possession that nobody suspected them in the least. To be sure, Baby Jane was shaking in her bearskin on finding herself walking among these terrible creatures, but she kept close against the Bear. It was Mary and the Rabbit who really were in danger, but the Black Mountain Band evidently had something important on hand and had no thought of eating for the moment.
By-and-bye, keeping in the stream of animals, they passed into the great pointed cleft in the face of the cliff. For some little way it ran like a tunnel, but then it grew higher and wider, how high and how wide they could not tell, but in the dim light from the entrance they could follow huge marble pillars up and up until they were lost in darkness a hundred yards above their heads, and the blackness in the depths of the cavern was faintly jewelled with thousands of pale green eyes—it seemed to be an infinite distance.
Along the wall near the entrance ran a ledge about ten feet high, and up and down this a gigantic Leopard prowled restlessly, as if he were in a cage.
At length, when the stream of shadowy creatures had ceased to flow through the entrance, he came to a stop in the middle of the ledge, and, raising his head, cried in a horrible, snarling voice:
'What news of those tame sheep in the plain?'
'Meaning us!' whispered the Rabbit behind his paw.
'Nobody seems to know anything. I'd better give him a little news myself'; and then, to the horror of Baby Jane, he stood up and snapped his fingers to attract the Leopard's attention. For some moments the Leopard's eye, roving over the dim assembly, did not catch the little figure. The Rabbit gave a shrill whistle between his fingers, and shouted 'Hi, Mister!'
Then the Leopard turned his head haughtily towards the little beast, and the many thousand green eyes in the depths of the cavern also turned slowly altogether upon the impertinent animal, whom no one had eaten merely because he was thought to be the big Bear's supper.
'Here you are!' squeaked the Rabbit, 'extry special news from our own correspondent'; and then he struck a fine attitude, and went on: 'Disguised as a duck-billed platypus, coolly I strolled into the enemy's camp. I thought they were the most trumpery tadpoles that ever I saw until I met their generals. They were ten times worse. First there was that girl Baby Jane, funniest thing you ever saw! Those freckles on her nose, oh my!'