CHAPTER VII
That evening Grumgra chose a camping-place at the base of the cliffs several hundred yards down the river—the very cliffs he had roared at Ru for suggesting. Here, in little hollows and recesses of the rocks and under the protection of the beetling precipice, the people had no difficulty in lighting their fires and keeping them burning; and though once again a strong wind and rain came up, the storm did not beat directly down upon them, and they slept undisturbed until morning.
But there was at least one of their number—even excluding the sentinels—who could know but little sleep that night. Exhausted to a point almost past fatigue, Ru lay wide-eyed through the long hours, while all about him sounded the heavy breathing of his fellows, and to both sides the uncanny yellow fires wavered and blinked like the eyes of malignant giants. He was so stiff and sore that he could scarcely move; even to turn upon his bruised side caused him many a half-stifled groan; yet a continual torment of burning in his mutilated neck and breast made him writhe and twist incessantly.
But the anguish of his body was less excruciating than that within his mind. His physical injuries would heal and be forgotten; but deep within him, walled from contemptuous eyes, there was a wound that would not heal and would not be forgotten. That searing brand, so greedily applied by Woonoo, had scorched more than his skin and flesh; it had withered away at a stroke his very feeling of kinship with his people. Previously, when scoffed at or taunted, he had seemed to be cut off from them only for a moment; now it appeared to him that he was an alien—for all time an alien in the midst of his own people. There was no longer anyone in whom to confide, anyone in whom to seek refuge; even she of the dazzling eyes could see his misfortune and laugh; and neither she nor the others would care if he should vanish into the river or down the throats of the wolves.
But as he lay there in the firelight, moaning and moaning in unheeded agony, a furious resolve came into his mind, gripping him with such vehemence that for the moment he forgot his pain. It was a thought that was not new to him, yet in its present fury it seemed wholly new. As his people had mocked and derided him, so they should one day worship and applaud; as they had made him grovel at their feet, so they should one day grovel before him; and where Grumgra stood in club-wielding might, he should walk in power more absolute even than Grumgra's! Strange thoughts for one so beaten down and humiliated, for the outcast and the cull of the tribe! But even in this moment of despair he knew that he was master of that which his fellows could never command, for he could think while they could only act—and his thoughts should win him the world!
Nor were his plans confined merely to vague hopes. With the shrewdness of the practical dreamer, he was scheming for the hour of his triumph even in this hour of his defeat. First of all, there was the weapon which would strike at a distance, and which sometime, surely, he should learn how to make. Then again, there was the might of the fire-god—that very fire-god who had burned and tortured his flesh. If he had been able to master this great spirit, his troubles would have been spared him; if he could still learn to master it, he would have an ally more powerful than any club that was ever brandished. Just how to tame this elusive force he had no idea; but he promised himself that he would wait and watch until sometime, unexpectedly, the secret would open before him.
Several of Ru's fellows, awakening in the early dawn, thought they heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like an oath of service to the god of fire. But they only laughed at what they deemed the Sparrow-Hearted's ravings; and they amused themselves by prodding the puny one lightly with the points of sticks in order to see his anger.
That morning, when Grumgra gave the order for the march, Ru was scarcely able to stagger along with the tribe. His aching limbs were matched by his aching head; his body felt strangely hot although a cool wind was blowing; his trembling legs seemed in danger of collapsing. Like one in a nightmare, or like one suddenly grown old, he tottered through the gloomy forest aisles, feeling as if each step were to be his last. How he endured the long miles he never quite knew, nor how he withstood the mocking gaze of his fellows and the inquisitive eyes that constantly explored his throat and breast, as though his scarred flesh were an inviting sight. Only the fact that the tribe was burdened with many children, whose pace was slow and who could not be left behind, enabled Ru to keep within sight of his kinsmen. Even so, he had visions of being forsaken altogether, and of finding himself, in his helplessness, suddenly face to face with one of the fanged prowlers of the woods.
Perhaps eight or ten miles were covered that day—a good day's traveling, indeed! And when, in the late afternoon, Grumgra called a halt and chose a camping-place, Ru was so exhausted that he sank down with a thankful sigh, and began almost instantly to atone for the loss of two nights' sleep.
The following morning he awoke feeling much refreshed; and, having bathed in the stream, he helped himself liberally to chunks of dried buffalo flesh and of the venison that the women were roasting over the fire. This was his first repast in almost two days—and now, although his limbs were still sore and aching, he felt once more in an optimistic mood.
But as the tribe set out again through the woods by the banks of the interminable Harr-Sizz River, he became conscious that something was still lacking. His sense of exile had not left him; since his public humiliation two days before, scarcely a person had spoken to him; he could hear the people murmuring that he was in touch with evil spirits, and that a word from him might bewitch them. Even when the children, drawn to him by the force of old attraction, would approach with the smiling request for another tale of aurochs or bears, their elders would scowlingly order them away. And so Ru was lonely, more lonely than he had ever been before. He was filled with sadness to hear his fellows chattering merrily ahead of him or behind, while he trudged on and on all by himself; he longed vaguely for some companion, some particular companion all his own; and his craving, although he could not understand why, seemed always to settle about Yonyo—even she, the scornful and the heartless one, whom he was trying his best to forget.
But he could not forget her. More than once, when she passed him on the trail, it stung him through and through to see that she went by without even a disdainful glance; and more than once, when he saw her strolling gaily with Kuff the Bear-Hunter or Woonoo the Hot-Blooded, he was filled with an almost uncontrollable fury to rend and destroy. Had he but possessed the strength, he would have sprung pantherlike at these great tribesmen of his, and struck and struck till they lay stiff and lifeless before him.
But the feebleness of his limbs was an effective bar to his murderous impulses. Day after day went by, while Yonyo seemed to have forgotten his existence and Kuff and Woonoo openly vied for her companionship. Meantime he seemed to be still under a cloud, for no one would speak to him, even though, in his loneliness, he made repeated advances to his former companions. At night he was forced to sleep by himself in a solitary corner of the encampment, and by day he had to glide ahead of his tribesmen or behind them through the interminable lengths of the wilderness.
And now his only solace came from watching the bewildering and ever-changing panoramas—the tumbled ragged-white vistas of far-off snow-peaks, the dark, steeply curving slopes of the spruce and pine, the tumultuous blustering river with its bank of reeds or rocks, the tiny blue lakes that dotted the valleys like inverted bits of the sky, the massive cliffs and crags and the boulder-littered plains, with now and then a waterfall that came foaming from the heights with a crashing and roaring as of a god's voice. At times Ru's quick eyes would catch the flash of some moving thing, and he would stop short to watch the queer inhabitants of the wilds: the huge brown mammoth, with its grave high head and long curling tusks; the golden yellow double-horned woolly rhinoceros; the enormous, swiftly gliding red deer; or even the wild horses, bison, and cattle that browsed upon the river grass in peaceful bands. Somehow, although he could not say why, Ru was glad merely at sight of these creatures; and in his interest in them, and in his glimpses of the great hills and rushing waters, he found relief from that anger and despair with which his people had filled him.
After ten days had gone by, and the wounds in his body were almost healed, but the wounds in his heart were festering more painfully than ever, there occurred a series of events which brought a sudden end to his career as outcast.
Those events began with a curious discovery of Ru's. One evening he chanced to observe a woman cast a bit of bison tallow into the fire; and he noticed how the fat sizzled and sputtered with bright yellow flames much more brilliant than the normal wood fires. Like all his people, he had seen such a spectacle time upon time before; but always he, as they, had watched without eyes, and no thought of possible utility had ever occurred to him. But now, in a flash, it came to him that the fire-god loved tallow, fed upon it greedily, and would serve anyone who made him an offering of it. What if, in place of wood, one should try to burn old and dried-out fat? or, rather, wood prepared with a coating of fat?
No sooner was the thought in Ru's mind than he had begun to experiment. Selecting the long straight limb of a fallen tree, he greased it with a heavy layer of tallow he had cut from a recently slain bison. Then, cautiously and not without some fear of the fire-god, he thrust the end of the stick into the flames.
Two or three of his tribesmen, who were squatted idly on a mound of earth some paces away, grinned in apish amusement to watch this new antic of the Sparrow-Hearted. They were preparing to leap up and seize the greased stick from his hand by way of pleasant sport, when they fell back in amazement to see a brilliant deep-yellow flame spring up at the end of the pole. And, the next they knew, Ru was striding toward them waving a flaming brand that seemed like a threat from the fire-god himself.
They did not wait to learn more about that threat. With terrified squeals, they took to their feet, while Ru followed at his leisure with a smile of amusement and triumph.
Wherever he went, he was greeted with frightened screams and cries. The children ran howling from him; the women pressed back with shrieks and yells; the men stood growling and threatening at a distance, but drew hastily away whenever he strode too near; while many a feverishly moving lip framed prayers to the fire-god. From end to end of that camping-place—a wide glade in the heart of the forest—Ru stalked like an avenging demon. It filled him with a wild, exultant joy to see even the great Grumgra hold his distance, even Grumgra, the dreaded and the growling one; and his heart sang with fierce glee when Zunzun the Marvel-Worker—he who professed to be the fire-god's nearest friend—went tottering hurriedly away before the sputtering menace of the torch.
Rapidly and vigorously the brand continued to burn, with an energetic crackling and flaring, until it was less than half its former length, and the molten, scorching grease began to flow along Ru's fingers.
He was just about to throw down the brand and beat out the flames, when he beheld that which filled him with sudden madness. At one corner of the glade, shielded behind a mountainous boulder, sat Woonoo the Hot-Blooded; and in his huge hairy arms lay one whom Ru recognized all too well—Yonyo the Smiling-Eyed!
With a roar of murderous rage, Ru was upon them. His torch gleamed and wavered wrathfully; he forgot for the moment the torments of the melting fat; he was bent only on singeing and branding his rival. And Woonoo, taken off his guard, was aware only of a fire-brandishing fury that came dashing upon him out of the void, waving the yellow flames as if to sear him to cinders.
Without taking time for a second glance, time even to recognize the mad apparition as Ru, Woonoo squealed with terror, cast the startled Yonyo from him, and fled for the woods. Ru, pressing close behind, was forced to be content with flinging the torch after him and scorching the hair of his back.
A few moments later, Ru returned from the chase with a triumphant grin. Yonyo was still standing, as if dazed, beside the boulder from which she had been so rudely thrust; and, as Ru passed, she turned toward him with a smile that was almost friendly. But he seemed not to see; and, without so much as a glance in her direction, he strolled resolutely toward the center of the encampment.
Seeing that he was without the burning brand, the bolder tribesmen now came forward to meet him; and it was not long before even the more timid had ventured near. From their excited way of crowding about him and chattering, one might have thought Ru exceedingly popular. But he was not to be deceived by their effusiveness; resentment still rankled within him. And so he did not respond to their advances; he did not reply to their questions, did not explain his power over the fire-god; he seemed not to hear their friendly jests, their praise, their offers of companionship.
On the following evening, there occurred an event which added still further to Ru's newly won prestige.
It happened that, at the close of the day's migration, one of the men curiously explored the hollow of a tree trunk, and there discovered that rarest of all treats—a bees' nest filled with honey. Regardless of the stings of the infuriated insects—which, after all, were much impeded by the hairy natural covering of the people—some of the doughtiest of the tribe contrived to capture the entire treasury of sweets; and, laden down with their booty, which consisted of a mixture of wax, honey, squirming grubs and dead bees, they hastened away to camp to enjoy the feast.
So eager were all the people not to miss their share of this delicacy, and so greedily did men, women, and children swarm about the possessors of the prize, that all other pursuits were momentarily forgotten. Clamoring and shouting for a portion, smacking their lips hopefully or gustily licking long dripping fingers, the people pressed in a furious rabble about the fast-disappearing dainty, so rabid for a taste that one might have thought them engaged in a riot—and few remembered that no other food was being prepared, that no precaution had been taken against possible danger, that no fires were being kindled for the night.
Yet, while the tribal fires had been neglected, it would not be quite correct to say that no fires at all had been lighted. Screened from the gaze of the multitude behind a slight rise in the land, Ru sat patiently preparing a little fire of his own. And when at length the flames sprang forth with gusto, he began to ignite sticks of various kinds and sizes, all of which had been liberally greased.... But of this his kinsmen knew nothing. Like hungry vultures quarreling over a bit of carrion, they were still squirming and struggling about the honey.
Suddenly, when the pandemonium had reached its loudest, the participants were startled by a growl more savage even than of the dispossessed honey-seekers. In deep-voiced tones, half like the grumbling of an angry dog, half like the bellowing of a bull, there sounded a challenge so terrible that the blood of all ran cold and their paralyzed legs seemed limp and useless beneath them. And out of the forest there trotted a thick-set furry beast as large as a grizzly, with little brown eyes gleaming evilly, gigantic paws and large curving claws outspread, and monstrous glittering mouth gaping wide.
After the first glance, the people's paralysis left them. "A bear! A bear! A cave-bear!" they cried, mad with terror. And where, but a moment before, there had been a maggot-like, convulsive throng, there was suddenly nothing but a mound of honey-drenched earth. In a wild mob the fugitives raced for the trees, shrieking and crying in dread, dashing one another aside in their fury to reach shelter, then literally climbing over one another as they mounted into the protecting branches.
But his Majesty the Bear, having caused all this consternation, took little note of the results. With long greedy tongue he began to lap up the spilled honey; and, as befits a conqueror, he was so absorbed in consuming the spoils of victory that very soon he had quite forgotten the vanquished.
But the vanquished had not forgotten him. From their perches in the tree tops, they watched the marauder feasting; and, while they watched, they chattered angrily, made hideous grimaces, and shouted furious names at the enemy.
In the midst of their tumult of hoots and howls, an astonishing spectacle distracted their attention from the bear. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a short, slender figure flashed into view beneath them, waving a burning brand and striding toward the redoubtable beast!
The spectators gasped. Some muttered in amazement, some in alarm; one cried that Ru was out of his wits; others screamed that he had bewitched the monster, or that the bear would crush him like a rabbit. But all eyes were fastened steadily upon him as, still brandishing his torch, he pressed straight toward destruction.
In a moment he was well out in the open field, too far from the trees to seek safety in flight. And then it was that the beast became aware of him. With a snort of anger, Bruin turned to confront his foe; but his wicked little eyes burned with a light that was not altogether of menace.
Swinging his torch round and round in enormous circles till the flames hissed and sizzled threateningly, Ru strode on and on without a pause. In another moment, he was so near that the bear might have been upon him with a leap.
But the bear did not leap. Instead, he reared upon his great hind legs, looming taller than the tallest man and stouter than five men. Ominous mutterings issued from his cavernous throat; his huge lips curled in a defiant snarl; his gigantic paws were outspread as if to strike and crush.
Then, when Ru could feel the hot, foul breath upon him, he started forward with a shout and a rush, as if to throw himself upon the monster, as if to thrust himself straight into those powerful gaping jaws.
Ru frightens the bear with his torch
Ru frightens the bear with his torch
Ru frightens the bear with his torch
But the furry one did not wait for the onslaught. With a howl of terror, he turned and lumbered away into the woods; while Ru, pursuing him with the firebrand, at the same time motioned to his people to come down from the trees.