Its muzzle was turned downward and inward, until the bearded chin almost touched its chest; while the tips of its horns, instead of being thrown back upon its shoulders--their usual position when the animal stands erect--were, elevated high in the air.

Moreover, its short tail, held upright and jerking about with a quick nervous motion, told that the animal meditated mischief.

Even at so great a distance the spectators could perceive this: for the forms of both the ibex were so clearly outlined against the sky, that the slightest motion on the part of either could be perceived with perfect distinctness.
The new comer, when first observed, appeared to be approaching by stealth--as if he intended to play the cowardly assassin, and butt the other over the cliff! Indeed, this was his actual design, as was discovered in the sequel; and had the other only remained for six seconds longer in the attitude in which he had been first seen, his assailant would no doubt have at once succeeded in his treacherous intent.
We are sorry to have to say that he _did_ succeed--though not without a struggle, and the risk of being himself compelled to take that desperate leap which he had designed for his antagonist.
It was probably the voice of Caspar that hindered the immediate execution of this wicked intention; though, alas! it only stayed it for a short time.

Caspar, on seeing the treacherous approach, had involuntarily uttered a cry of warning.

Though it could not have been understood by the imperilled ibex, it had the effect of startling him from his dreamy attitude, and causing him to look around.