Then Baby Jane fancied she heard Sammy and the colonels calling out their troops in proper style, and a moment later there was a dull, steady sound, as of the sea on a distant shore or of five thousand galloping beasts. In her imagination this sound came steadily on. What! Was it imagination? She had been fancying so long she could hardly tell. For a long minute she strained her ears eagerly. Then a faint night air came up from the plain, and suddenly the sound grew real and distinct. It was no fancy. Her army was coming!
The others had heard it too, and they huddled together, hoping that none of the Black Mountain band would wake and hear it. No one stirred.
'The sound has stopped!' whispered Mary.
'They have reached the foot of the mountain, and are climbing,' whispered the Bear.
With her heart thumping in her chest, Baby Jane listened without breathing. The silence was as dead as if the two armies upon the mountain were boulders of its own rock. Minute after minute went by....
A deafening roar rang out. The sound of bodies hurled to the ground. A rushing sound—and the Lion came flying out of the darkness. He seized Baby Jane in his mouth, and, turning sharp round, raced for the pass.
But now the whole Black Mountain army was awake, roaring, yelling, screaming, trumpeting, and the Lion found a close rank of them barring his way. With poor Baby Jane over his shoulder, he flung himself against them. He went hurtling through, and the dark pass was open before him; but, alas, even as he reached it he stumbled on to his knees. A hundred great paws and talons had struck at him as he went through, and he was broken somewhere.
But instantly he got up again, and pushing Baby Jane behind him in the narrow path, with a cliff on one side and a deep stream on the other, he faced the Black Mountain army alone. He had far outstripped his own regiments, and the Bear and Mary had been lost in the scrimmage.
In twos and threes the horrid beasts of the enemy flung themselves upon him. To Baby Jane, crouching behind him, every fight was alike, and she could not count them. There was a silence, a threefold snarl, and a scrambling rush; and then the Lion rose high and struck as many blows as there were assailants. At each blow the rock shook on which they stood, and the walls of the ravine rang with the deafening crash. Each damaged beast was swept into the deep stream and carried away. But out of many hundred assailants one now and then would get in a blow, and the Lion himself was damaged and broken in many places.
