CHAPTER XVI
More than a week was consumed in the passage of the river. After the first day, Ru abandoned his work as self-constituted ferryman, which threatened to become endless; he found it simpler to train several of his young tribesmen in the task of ferrying, and to devote himself to the construction of new rafts. Even in this pursuit, he was not now without assistants; indeed, he became something of an overseer or director, while it was his fellows who did the actual work. With their aid, he produced a fleet of ten rafts—several of which were superior to the first two, since they were composed of as many as three or four logs lashed tightly together. It was these larger craft that bore what may be termed the "freight" of the tribe: the flint implements, and the scanty remains of the provisions.
As for the people themselves, they were transported one by one, some of the younger folk shouting with joy, some of the less reckless shivering and frightened, a few of the children shrieking and crying, one or two of the older women wringing their hands or beating their breasts at the thought of crossing to a land from which they might never return. Yet of actual casualties there were very few; now and then, indeed, a passenger did fall into the river, but never with fatal results; now and then someone was bruised or injured in the excitement of landing, but always the wounds were trivial and soon forgotten. And, on the whole, the people crossed confidently enough, for did not Ru say a prayer to the river-god every time a new raft was launched? and did they not know that his magic was powerful to protect them?
Yet, during the time of the passage, the fortunes of the tribe were fast ebbing. There was now an encampment on each side of the river, and on each side a daily hunt was held, although usually without result, except when one of the hunters chanced to slay some small creature with clubs, or with pebbles from his rabbit-skin pouch. And now the tribe dined mostly upon roots, herbs, and berries, supplemented by a sort of paste which the women made from the bark of a tree ground up with beetles, grubs, and grasshoppers. But these were the rations of famine—and as the days went by and no relief appeared in sight, the complaints and wailings of the hungry throng grew more desperate and louder.
Only in the words of Ru could they find any hope. "Do not be sad, my people," he would say. "The river-god has told me that after we have all crossed we shall go to a land of plenty." And his evident cheerfulness served as a prop for the people's drooping spirits.
But Ru, more than any of the others, had reason to be cheerful. Was not this his moment of triumph? Did not the people look at him with wondering eyes, as they once had looked only at Grumgra and Zunzun? Did they not call him the Eagle-Hearted? and did he not overhear them murmuring that he was a magician, an enchanter more powerful than the Marvel-Worker himself?
Even Yonyo, he was not sorry to learn, seemed to share in the general awe at his deeds. Ever since that memorable day when he had threatened her with his club, she had kept at a safe distance from him, and he was still too angry with her to seek her as his deeper desires urged. Yet at times, when suddenly he would look up from some absorbing task and with quick gaze would isolate her from amid the throng, he would catch in her eyes a light he had never seen there before—a light almost fond, almost tender, yet tinged with just a little of distant admiration. And seeing that which surprised and delighted him, Ru pretended to have noticed nothing at all, but held himself more firmly aloof from her than ever.
Indeed, he found himself indulging in wiles that matched her own! When he beheld her strolling in his direction, he would turn aside and pretend not to have seen; when she called to him, his ears would be closed and he would not hear; when she stared in his direction, he would merely stare back as though through a wall of stone.
Thus matters continued for many days—continued, indeed, until the people had almost completed the passage of the river and only a score remained on the northern bank. Among these, in addition to Ru, were Grumgra and Zunzun; also Yonyo, who seemed determined to remain on the same side of the river as Ru; also Kuff the Bear-Hunter and Woonoo the Hot-Blooded, who had apparently made up their minds to stay where Yonyo stayed. Evidently the withdrawal of a majority of the people had meant a relaxing of restraints; for, before the last of the tribe had attempted to cross, there occurred a little drama that added unexpected variety and flavor to life.
Early one morning Ru was propelling himself down-stream on a small raft he had constructed for his own exclusive use, when he was startled by a series of shouts, groans and horrible oaths arising from a thicket near the river bank. Alarmed, he ceased paddling and stood still to watch. The shouts and oaths continued, in tones still more ferocious, punctuated suddenly by the shrill cry of a woman—a cry he could not fail to recognize!
Not a second did he waste. Leaving the raft to drift as it would, he plunged into the water and hastily swam the few yards to land; then, drawing himself up upon the rocky bank, he paused for an instant to listen again.
The cries had died down to a confusion of mutterings and snarls, like the grumblings of angered beasts; and through the intervening tangle of foliage a sound as of heavy breathing came to his ears.
Picking his way warily through the thicket while the muttering and snarling gave place to a savage howling, Ru found himself approaching a little open space where great shadowy forms were to be seen in violent motion. Cautious as a panther stalking its prey, careful not to rustle a twig or a leaf, he crept forward inch by inch. His thin shoulders were bent far down; his fingers at times touched the ground; his watchful eyes glittered with uncanny alertness. Meanwhile the shouts and screams grew louder and louder, each moment more frenzied and terrible—and again there came the shrill call of a woman!
As that cry rang forth, Ru stole forward to a tiny break in the bushes. Still unseen although able to see all, he peered out upon the grassy floor of a small glade—and what he viewed held him as speechless as if he had confronted a ghost.
Writhing and twisting furiously on the ground, two men were in deadly conflict. Their deerskin mantles had been torn from them; their clubs lay beside them on the grass; their huge hairy bodies were bent and convulsed in desperate battle. Gripping one another with a python-like hold, each seemed bent on tearing his adversary to bits; their long arms clutched and pulled at resisting sinews, their great jaws snapped, their stout legs frenziedly kicked and strained. Over and over they rolled, first one on top and then the other, a contorted, swift-moving mass of muscle and black hair; over and over, muttering and groaning, their hands and faces streaked with red, the ground beneath them dotted with red blurs; over and over, over and over, so fast the eye could hardly follow their motions as crooked fingers tugged at bleeding throats and chests, and wolfish crimson teeth cut and slashed.
It was long before Ru, staring out from his green hiding-place, had recognized the combatants. But finally, when there came a lull, and both contestants momentarily relaxed their efforts, he distinguished the blood-smeared faces of two of his tribesmen: Woonoo the Hot-Blooded and Kuff the Bear-Hunter! And seated at the opposite edge of the thicket, watching the fight with calm detachment, he beheld another whom he well knew—Yonyo the Smiling-Eyed!
Evidently she had not seen him, and he himself was so absorbed in watching the struggle that he scarcely noticed her. Even as he espied her, the fighters began to grapple with renewed energy, coming to a clinch that threatened a swift, fatal ending. Now, as the two men writhed on the ground, Kuff on top, Woonoo beneath, the long stout fingers of the Bear-Hunter fumbled for the neck of his foe; now they were closing over Woonoo's throat, closing and pressing down with fiendish fierceness. The little eyes of Woonoo were bulging out of his head, his tongue was lolling from his great, wide-open mouth, he sent forth a series of gasps and half-stifled groans, and his arms and legs twitched convulsively.
And, but for a timely interruption, the story of Woonoo would have been over.
Just as the murderous fingers were tightening about the doomed man's throat, Ru, forgetting himself, uttered a low excited cry.
Kuff, looking up in alarm, released his hands from the prostrate Woonoo. But Ru had withdrawn instantly into the thicket; and many seconds passed while Kuff stood staring at the shrubbery for sight of the intruder. During the interval, Woonoo clutched at his throat, and began slowly to recover; he groaned, stirred a little, and sucked in the air in long-drawn agonized gulps; then, casting bloodshot eyes at his adversary, he began to creep abjectly away, first crawling on hands and knees like a prisoner escaping, then rising and tottering toward the edge of the woods. But Kuff did not seem even to notice him; his attention was still concentrated upon the unknown foe among the bushes.
Yonyo, meanwhile, had sat watching with an air of utter indifference; neither when Woonoo was vanquished nor when he escaped did she show any sign of emotion. But as the gory form of the defeated one went slumping away into the bushes, she seemed suddenly to realize that she might be something more than an observer.
Convinced at last that there was no enemy in hiding, Kuff had turned to garner the fruits of victory; and with tiny eyes that twinkled wickedly, he stood gaping toward Yonyo. Never too prepossessing, with his huge squat figure and apish countenance, he was particularly hideous now; on his shoulder was a great newly healed scar that added to the natural ferocity of his aspect; on his face were long streaks of blood, while his thick black hair was blood-matted, mud-caked and disheveled, and little crimson patches stared from a hundred places on his unclothed body.
But evidently he had already forgotten his wounds. His thick lips expanded into an unpleasant grin; his eyes, staring from his head like two inky little berries, were fastened upon Yonyo with evil relish. Not a word did he speak, but slowly, as if under some irresistible fascination, he started toward the watching woman.
And slowly, as if she too were under an irresistible fascination, she began to back away. A little cry, half of repugnance, half of fear, trembled from her lips—then, almost before she could turn to flee, the great form of Kuff had come plunging toward her, and she was helpless in his devouring arms.
She felt herself clutched to the hairy breast; she felt powerful fingers tightening about her; to her nostrils came the acrid reek of sweat, and all things grew dark before her eyes. She scarcely heard the raucous breathing, scarcely felt the pain of the gripping hands, the terrible pressure of the huge convulsive body. Blindly, with an instinctive revulsion, she attempted to resist, but her efforts were the flutterings of a thrush in the talons of a hawk.
Yet all this took place in a second, perhaps in the fraction of a second—as suddenly as the great arms were thrust about her, so suddenly were they released. Startled and bewildered, she went reeling to the ground, while there came to her a glimpse of an immense squat form whirling about, and she heard an infuriated snarl. Even as she staggered and fell, she saw two new adversaries ranged face to face—Kuff and Ru the Sparrow-Hearted!
For a moment the two men stood confronting one another like stags ready for combat. Angry fires shot from their eyes; suppressed growls issued from their curling lips. The heavy arms of Kuff were spread apart as if to seize and crush his rival, and the fists were clenched savagely; the left arm of Ru was at his side, but in his right there hung threateningly—a club! And with a howl of rage Kuff recognized it as his own club—his own, which Ru had snatched up from the grass!
Seconds passed.... The mutterings of the rivals rose in a challenging crescendo. Then, with a stride, Ru crossed half-way over to his foe. The club leaped to the level of his shoulders; a yell of fury came to his lips; there rang out a still more ferocious answering yell. And, in a blind frenzy, Ru started forward again, while the club was lifted yet higher and swung.
To Yonyo, watching from where she sat huddled on the grass, it was not apparent just what had happened. She saw the club descend; she heard the scream of the smitten Kuff; she watched him lunge violently for the weapon, and knew that his fingers closed over it; then there seemed to be only two figures frantically writhing. Each, she could see, was clinging to the club, each struggling to wrest it from the hands of his adversary. But, disabled though the Bear-Hunter was, Ru was still no match for him; he battled desperately, but in vain.... Slowly, slowly Kuff was winning his second triumph. At last Ru lay on the ground, convulsed and panting; at last he seemed to be crushed by the great bulk of his rival, and his fingers were releasing their feeble hold on the club—while into the beady eyes of Kuff there came a bestial light as one hand reached for the throat of the Sparrow-Hearted.
Why it was, Yonyo did not know, but at this crisis she screamed. Her cry was long-drawn and shrill as if she herself were in peril; the very forest seemed to stand affrighted, and the red dripping hands of Kuff were momentarily halted in their gruesome work.
As if in answer to her scream, there came an angry bellow from the woods. And before either she or the fighters could do more than gasp and stare, they heard a crashing in the brush, and saw a tall familiar figure glowering before them.
"Grumgra!" murmured Yonyo, in amazement.
For a moment the chieftain uttered not a word. He merely stood gazing with a half-scornful grin at Yonyo, at the two blood-smeared combatants, and at the disordered glade with the red-streaked grass torn up and crushed. But Kuff, like a small boy detected in a prank, released his grip on Ru, and, rubbing his bruised shoulder, arose to his feet with a sheepish grimace. Immediately afterwards, Ru also arose, while glaring at Kuff with eyes that were like a snarl.
Now there was heard another rustling from the shrubbery, and the stooping form of Zunzun the Marvel-Worker emerged. Disregarding the others, Grumgra turned to him, and, in a growling voice, declared: "It is as I said, Zunzun, when I heard the noise. They have been fighting. They have been trying to kill each other. It is all about a woman!"
A malicious light came into Zunzun's shrewd little eyes. "Fighting about a woman!" he muttered. "That is against your orders, O Grumgra!"
"It is against my orders!" echoed Grumgra, turning threateningly upon Kuff and Ru. "Who is it that started to fight against my orders?"
An awed silence greeted his words. "You, Ru," he thundered, after a moment, "why did you start to fight with Kuff?"
"It was not I that started it," pleaded Ru. "First there was Woonoo the Hot-Blooded—"
The very mention of this hated name brought fury to the heart of Kuff. "It is so! It is so!" he broke in, excitedly. "Woonoo the Hot-Blooded tried to take my woman! She would have been mine, but he wanted to take her! So we fought, and I tried to kill him! I won her from him! Now she is mine!"
"I am not yours!" flung back Yonyo, defiantly.
"Quiet!" howled Grumgra, turning hotly upon the Smiling-Eyed. "Can any woman say which man she belongs to? Is that not for me to say—me, Grumgra, the father of the tribe? Can I not give any woman to any man I want?"
Utterly subdued, Yonyo went creeping away toward the shadow of the thicket.
"But she is mine! I won her! I won her!" insisted Kuff, glaring malevolently at the chieftain, while the hair upon his back bristled.
"I have said there shall be no more fights about women!" bawled Grumgra. "And you know how I shall punish you!"
There came a murmur of dismay from Kuff and Ru, and a low cry of fear from Yonyo.
"O chief, it is a wise rule you have made," said Zunzun, addressing the Growling Wolf in a mincing voice. "In the days when your father Rung the Roaring Cataract was our leader, there were many fights about women, and many of our men lost their lives. But ever since the day when your club slew Rung, you have had a better way. Not many of our men have fought about women since then. For it does them no good."
"It does them no good!" reiterated Grumgra. And for an instant he paused and leered hungrily at Yonyo, who shrank from his gaze as from a blow. "When two men find a woman worth fighting about, it is well that the woman should belong to me! Is it not so, Zunzun?"
"It is so," acknowledged the Marvel-Worker, nodding sagely. "Such, O chief, is the wise rule you have made!"
"Not too many women have come to me in this way," recounted Grumgra, regretfully. "No more than there are fingers on one of my hands. But now it is time to find another."
And with eyes wickedly shining, he started toward his intended victim. "You are good to look upon, Yonyo," he muttered. "Good to look upon—"
Yonyo shuddered, and cried out again in fear. Like a cornered beast, she pressed far back into the thicket.
But her shrinking seemed only to whet Grumgra's desire. "Come here, O Smiling-Eyed! Come here!" he commanded, with a growl. "I will not hurt you!" And he darted forward with great strides, his hairy arms outspread to grasp his prey.
There could have been but one sequel, had it not been for Ru. "Stop, Grumgra! Stop! Stop! Stop!" came an imperious cry.
The chieftain turned about with an oath. And Ru, raising his right hand commandingly, solemnly declared: "The river-god will not let you touch Yonyo! If you do, he will punish you!"
And while Grumgra stood glaring at him in bewilderment and rage, Ru lifted both hands skyward and burst into fervent prayer: "O river-god, punish Grumgra! Do not let him go near the Smiling-Eyed! If he does, you must not let him cross over your waters! You must sink him in the middle, down where the fishes fly about with their sharp little teeth and it is dark and cold. And you must never let him come up again—never, O river-god, unless he will not go near the Smiling-Eyed."
On and on in this vein Ru rambled, waxing more heated in his pleas, more furious in his demands for Grumgra's punishment. And Grumgra, still watching in bewilderment, seemed uncertain what to do. At first he growled and grumbled a bit, then fell into a staring silence; then, while Ru still importuned the river-god, his great lower jaw sagged and his mouth gaped wide; then by degrees an expression akin to anxiety crossed his face; and from anxiety he passed to fear, and from fear, by slow gradations, to actual terror, until at length his legs seemed to be unsteady beneath him and his frightened little eyes half bulged out of his head.
"I will do as you want!" burst forth Grumgra, as Ru reached an emotional climax. "Only ask the river-god not to take me when I cross!"
Whereat he mumbled a little to himself; then, without so much as a glance toward the cringing Yonyo, he reached for his club and went stalking away into the shadows of the wood.