CHAPTER XVIII
On the following morning Ru overheard an interesting conversation. Seated in the hollow of a great boulder, he caught the muttered words of Grumgra and Zunzun as they conferred on the opposite side of the rocks. And unhesitatingly he crouched down so as not to be seen and not to miss a syllable.
"But why not kill him the easiest way?" Grumgra was saying. "One blow of my club—"
"That would seem better," came the suave interruption of the Marvel-Worker. "But would it be? I too want to be rid of him, for has he not laughed at my wonders? and does he not try false wonders of his own? But let us not be too much in haste. If you kill him now, the people will not believe our story about the bear. They will guess that you have been fighting with the Sparrow-Hearted, and will ask why you did not kill him at once. And how they will laugh then! They will whisper that the Sparrow-Hearted is stronger than you!"
"I will wring the Sparrow-Hearted's neck!" growled the chieftain, stung by Zunzun's hateful suggestion.
"Not yet. Not yet," cautioned the Marvel-Worker. "We will wait, and will think of some way. Maybe we can push him off the high rocks—or else the god of the fire or the storm may help us. Let me use my magic—it has broken the bones of bigger men than Ru."
"Go, use your magic!" muttered the leader, fiercely. "But use it soon! No man can strike Grumgra and live! The air I breathe is not sweet while Ru stays alive!"
"But do not forget," resumed Zunzun, in soft, persuasive tones, "the Sparrow-Hearted has his wolf to fight for him. I do not know what bad spell he has worked over it, but we cannot go near him while it lives. Why did we not kill it long ago?"
"I will kill it now!" vowed Grumgra. "This very day it will taste my club!" And his words were punctuated by low throaty mutterings and a gnashing of teeth.
"Grumgra speaks great wisdom," the Marvel-Worker approved....
And that was all that Ru remained to hear. Fearful of detection, he slipped slyly away, and disappeared without a sound into a dense thicket.
All that day, while the tribe pursued its leisurely course through the forest, Ru watched cautiously for sign of some trap or ambush. But, somewhat to his surprise, he went his way unmolested. He did notice, however, that Grumgra seemed bent on keeping his promise with regard to Wuff; several times the chieftain approached the wolf with club dangerously poised. On each occasion Wuff showed his teeth and growled, yet seemed not unaware of his peril; he always managed to leap out of range of the descending club—and all that Grumgra succeeded in doing was to knock some holes in the earth, while Wuff, confronting him just out of reach, would derisively snarl and snarl.
Thus frustrated, Grumgra glowered with increasing fierceness as the hours went by; and the people, watching him at a distance, were secretly mirthful at his futile efforts.
But, except for the baffling of Grumgra, nothing happened all that day. It was not until late at night that the chieftain made his first determined effort at vengeance.
Long after Ru had fallen asleep, he awoke with a start. The night was clouded and starless; on both sides of him the camp-fires were smoldering to a crimson glow, and he could only dimly distinguish the huddled figures of the sleepers and hear their rhythmic breathing. All was as it should be—there was no sound or shadow to give alarm. Yet, for some reason, a shiver of fear shot through him. Without knowing why, he shuddered; and, as he did so, there came a low growl to his left—and he saw the two glowing eyes of Wuff. Vaguely he could make out the form of the wolf standing beside him, and as if by instinct he knew that the animal's hair was bristling.
At the same moment his eyes were startled by a sudden movement, and he saw a huge shadowy shape creeping along the ground. But he had no time to wonder what it was. Almost before he realized what was happening, Wuff had vanished. Ru was aware of a slim form catapulting through the air—then there came a howl that set the whole camp astir. And, with furious suddenness, the huge creeping shape sprang up, and towered to monstrous proportions. It lifted enormous arms, and swung a colossal club—and a small four-legged form, leaping through the air, nipped the giant on the elbows; then as suddenly withdrew; then once more darted forward and nipped the giant on the shins; then with lightning rapidity disappeared; then for a third time charged and slashed the calves of the giant's legs. The club-wielding one, thus assaulted, shrieked and bawled in leonine rage and thrashed madly at the air; but in the darkness he was half-blinded, and the strokes of his club were wild and uncontrolled; while his foe, gifted with better sight, continued to lunge and cut and then to vanish, with movements so incredibly rapid as constantly to elude the grasp of the huge clutching fingers.
In a minute, the struggle was over. The great figure disappeared at a run, to be lost among the crowd of his awakened fellows; while Wuff, slinking back to Ru's side, licked his chops contentedly and sank down to resume his interrupted sleep.
When morning dawned, it was observed that the body of Grumgra was reddened with half a dozen new-made slashes. But no one dared refer to the wounds in Grumgra's hearing; and there was much whispered comment that everyone knew better than to make public.
Meanwhile Ru noticed that the people kept at a greater distance from Wuff than ever before. As for himself, he looked upon Wuff with a new affection. Reaching down and stroking the wolf's fur, he murmured gentle words into the creature's ear: "Good Wuff! Good Wuff! You have saved my life! You would not let Grumgra come upon us in the night, would you, little wolf? You would fight for me as no one else would! You are the best friend I ever had!"
And Wuff, hearing these words, stood listening patiently and with eyes that shone steadily and brightly; and Ru swore to himself that his comrade understood.
From that time forth, Ru would never leave Wuff far from his sight; and his vigilance, both for his own sake and for that of his four-footed friend, was never for a moment relaxed.
But a day or two later there came a diversion of so exacting a nature that it required the full attention of Grumgra and Zunzun as well as of Ru himself, and left them little leisure for thoughts of vengeance.
By this time the tribe had been following the southern trail for possibly four or five months. No record, of course, could be kept of the days that passed, and it was impossible even to estimate the distance traversed; but when the people had left their cave it had been late spring, and now the leaves on the trees had commenced to turn yellow and brown; and the days, intensely warm for a while, had begun to be varied by a refreshing coolness at night and in the early morning. No one could be sure as yet whether they had exchanged their own land of bitter winter for a warmer region; but there were those who whispered that it had been colder than this in their old cave at the season of falling leaves; and even the confirmed grumblers admitted that they had entered a fairer country than they had left. Not that the scenery was as majestic, for there were not the same white-banded glaciers and overshadowing mountains—but the world about them seemed less harsh and unfriendly. The storms that came trumpeting out of the thunder-laden skies did not seem as severe as those they had known of old; the woods, flowering with vines and bushes unknown before, offered abundant nuts and succulent fruits they now tasted for the first time; while here and there were wide grassy meadows through which they could travel more easily and with greater safety than through the forest.
Best of all, to their minds, was the fact that now, for the first time since leaving the cave, they had an abundance of animal food. Deer of a hundred species browsed among the woods; bison and wild boars and cattle were becoming plentiful; occasionally they would catch sight of a galloping herd of horses, and the mammoth and the rhinoceros offered tempting if inaccessible prey. There was the corresponding drawback, of course, that dangerous carnivores were becoming numerous; not infrequently they crossed the tracks of bears, hyenas, and wolves, and once or twice they caught glimpses of the rare but dreaded sabertooth. Yet, perhaps because easier prey was to be found, the tribe was not much molested; it lost only two children and one old man to the wild beasts in the course of several months. And after they had held one or two successful hunts, and every member of the tribe had feasted and gorged to capacity, they were all in a more cheerful mood. They murmured that they had reached a land where they might halt and make their home.
The Umbaddu hunters were successful
The Umbaddu hunters were successful
The Umbaddu hunters were successful
Whether or not they remained permanently, it was necessary to find some resting-place before long. They could not wait until the last leaves had dropped from the trees, until the cold winds and the snow should overtake them; no man could say how severe the winter here would be. To delay too long might be to perish. So Grumgra had given orders that if anyone discovered a promising-looking hollow or cave entrance, they should all pause and examine it.
At first there was no sign of the hoped-for cavern. No retreat large enough to shelter even a bear could be discovered among the rocks; in vain the people searched the hillsides and the cliffs; in vain they hunted along the banks of rivers and in the heart of the woods. Dark prophecies could be heard from the mouths of the disgruntled, as the days went by and the tribe was still forced to wander; and even the more cheerful grew silent again, and a somber expression would come into their eyes when they heard mention of the elusive cave. Slowly and relentlessly the autumn was advancing: brilliant red and yellow patches were springing up like gaudy reminders in the woods; the underbrush seemed all aflame; and from time to time there sounded the querulous calls of the southward-winging wild geese. Now the people were increasingly aware that winter could not be far behind. As if to lend fuel to their misgivings, Grumgra and Zunzun would hold whispered conferences every evening; and every evening, before the camp-fire, the Marvel-Worker would go through a series of furious incantations, and from his lips would come frenzied prayers to the gods of the flames, the woods, and the caves.
It was when the gold and scarlet of autumn were burning their fiercest that Wuff had his two encounters with Grumgra; and it was at about the same time, likewise, that the long migration of the Umbaddu came to an end.
A day or two after Grumgra's unsuccessful midnight attack, the people found themselves following the loops and meanderings of a narrow river that reminded them of the Harr-Sizz. Through deep wooded gorges, under beetling rocky cliffs and around the base of forlorn hills they kept close to the stream for many miles, until at length they went trailing into a ravine similar to that which they had left months before. On both sides of the stream, the craggy cañon walls shot precipitously to a height of hundreds of feet; here and there a scraggly bush or tree clung precariously to a limestone ledge, but for the most part there was no vegetation; and the innumerable successive strata, twisted and bared as before some gigantic dissecting knife, had a ruggedness that brought thoughts of home to the hearts of the people.
But what they particularly noted was a small ragged patch about a third of the way up the cliff. In excited little groups they gathered, all pointing up to it at once, and all exclaiming, "A cave! A cave! See! A cave!"
What cries of relief and gladness now poured from their lips! Some jubilantly yelled and shouted; some sank down upon the ground, and uttered fervent prayers; some flung their arms about the shoulders of their neighbors and thankfully embraced them; some merrily leaped up and down, executing fantastic dances of their own invention; some merely turned to their kinsmen, and eagerly chattered and chattered.
But, as of one accord, they all halted beneath the cave entrance and waited for Grumgra to give that all-important command which they knew he must give.
No sooner was all the tribe assembled than the chieftain, all the more impressive and hideous because of his crimson new-made cuts and gashes, shouldered his way sullenly to the center of the crowd. The people made haste to open a path before him; and an expectant silence overcame them all when, lifting his club regally, he signified that he was about to speak.
"We think we have found a cave, but we do not know," he began, in his characteristic bellow. "Maybe there is no cave at all. Or maybe it is not big enough for us to live in. Or maybe there are great rocks that will fall and kill us; or else the roof may be too low. Or wild beasts or wild men may be there already. And so we will have to send someone to find out. He who goes in may never come out again—but someone will have to go. Who will be the one?"
There was a moment's silence; each man peered furtively at his neighbors, and several deliberately squeezed out of sight amid the throng.
"Then I must make someone go!" decided Grumgra. And his eyes, scanning the crowd, chanced to fall upon a slim hated form.
A look of malevolent relish lighted his apelike face. He had the expression of one who had just hit upon some brilliant, sinister scheme. "Ru the Sparrow-Hearted," he bawled, "you be the one to go into the cave!"
Sighs of relief and titters of amusement issued from the throats of a hundred auditors. And Ru, coming forward with features compressed to a stoic rigidity, quietly declared: "I am glad, O chief, that you think me brave enough to go. It shows that you would do great honor to me."
Grumgra growled, and the club swung menacingly above his shoulders. "I do not honor the Sparrow-Hearted!" he snarled; then stopped short in confusion, for Ru, with a scornful laugh, had already slipped out of sight among the multitude.