"This is really a favoured land," said the boy. "You live in a pretty
place, you sheep." "Oh, yes! it's pretty enough here," said the big ram.
It was as if he wished to add something; but he did not, only sighed.
"If you go about here alone you must look out for the crevices which run
all around the mountain," he continued after a little. And this was a
good warning, for there were deep and broad crevices in several places.
The largest of them was called Hell's Hole. That crevice was many
fathoms deep and nearly one fathom wide. "If anyone fell down there, it
would certainly be the last of him," said the big ram. The boy thought
it sounded as if he had a special meaning in what he said.
Then he conducted the boy down to the narrow strip of shore. Now he
could see those giants which had frightened him the night before, at
close range. They were nothing but tall rock-pillars. The big ram called
them "cliffs." The boy couldn't see enough of them. He thought that if
there had ever been any trolls who had turned into stone they ought to
look just like that.
Although it was pretty down on the shore, the boy liked it still better
on the mountain height. It was ghastly down here; for everywhere they
came across dead sheep. It was here that the foxes had held their
orgies. He saw skeletons whose flesh had been eaten, and bodies that
were half-eaten, and others which they had scarcely tasted, but had
allowed to lie untouched.
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