“Yes!” he answered, and a sudden change lit his face, as I unprisoned the wrist. “Don’t scare me that way again,” he said, half impudently shaking his head at me.
It seemed best to desist from pressing the matter further, and pleasant relations were soon re-established between us; but the matter seated itself in a corner of my mind.
Our lesson was delightful, and time escaped more smoothly than we knew. Beelo glanced at the sky, and sprang to his feet. He sweetly smiled his thanks, seized one of Christopher’s great paws and vigorously shook it, asked me and Christopher to meet him at the same spot tomorrow at the same hour, and was darting away. I called him back, and led him to an opening through which the face on the cliff was visible.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing to it.
He caught his breath, stood rigid, and slowly turned his face up to mine.
“That on the cliff? It is nothing—only stone.”
“It is more,” I insisted. “It sits there, it looks down threateningly on the valley; it says as plainly as speech——”
“No, no!” cried Beelo, seizing my arm with both hands, and gazing up into my eyes. “It is one of the gods. The people invoke it—you may see the altar fire on the opposite cliff some night when there is a great storm and the sea is raging. The god brings fish to the king’s net.”
He broke off abruptly, and with alarm clapped his palm to his mouth. I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. His manner grew composed, and he darted away and disappeared.
On returning to camp I told Captain Mason of the adventure. He was deeply interested, and sat in thought.