CHAPTER XXVI
Ru's ascension to leadership was followed by six or eight days of intensive activity, during which the cave buzzed with excitement.
First of all, Ru solved the food problem by showing the people the secluded cave entrance which he had found; and through this, unobserved by the beast-men, they passed daily into the woods, returning always with roots and nuts enough to ward off immediate starvation. Meanwhile Ru labored assiduously at the construction of bows and arrows, which he made in an isolated little nook of the cavern, while Yonyo kept watch to see that no tribesman approached. And several hours each day he devoted to training the chosen ten in the use of the "wonder stick." He found not only that he had eager and imitative and hence capable pupils, but that his own skill vastly improved with practice, so that he was soon able to direct an arrow with accuracy to almost any desired spot. This art his followers, likewise, were not slow in acquiring, and he knew that the time for the encounter with the beast-men could not be far off.
The interval between the burial of Grumgra and the battle of the "wonder stick" was marked by two important events. To begin with, there was the disappearance of Wuff. The young wolf, who had been growing manifestly restive of late and at times distinctly ill-tempered even toward his master, at last found the summons of his kind to be stronger than the appeal of human companionship. Standing with Ru one evening near the rear cave entrance, he started forward with sudden alertness and with wildly gleaming eyes as a long-drawn, doleful call sounded from far away out of the twilight. The next moment he had answered that call in high-pitched notes of his own—and then suddenly he vanished. Ru waited for a while, whistling softly to the animal, but Wuff did not come back; nor did he come back on the next day, nor on the day that followed. And Ru sighed regretfully, and realized that he had lost a friend.
The second event was of a more personal nature. It concerned his courtship of Yonyo—and its successful culmination. Standing proudly before the tribe in Grumgra's old place beside the fire, he announced one evening: "Yonyo the Smiling-Eyed is my woman. Is it not so, Yonyo?"
Yonyo came sedately forward, and admitted that it was so—and there was no one who had anything more to say, although Woonoo the Hot-Blooded and Kuff the Bear-Hunter did scowl furiously and mutter angrily under their breath. Ru, however, did not heed them, but proceeded forthwith to perform a little ceremony which the tradition of the tribe made necessary. Taking a sharp bit of flint, he cut a sudden gash in Yonyo's left arm; then, while the blood gushed forth and she bit her lip to keep back a groan, he made a similar wound in his own arm, muttered a prayer to the god of the cave, and let a drop of his blood flow into the released blood of Yonyo and mingle with it. And thus was their marriage solemnized.
Then, with Yonyo's hand tucked in one of his hands and his club gripped in the other, he led his bride away with him into their secret nook among the shadows.
After they had disappeared, an excited chattering burst forth among the tribespeople, for never had so quiet a wedding been known before. The older and more experienced folk predicted that not many days would pass before Ru would be beating Yonyo with his club and taking another woman.
But soon they forgot all about Ru's marriage in contemplation of a more momentous event.
Curious throngs would gather daily to watch their chieftain and his chosen ten at practice with the "wonder stick"—and an atmosphere of dread anticipation filled the cavern, gradually rising to a pitch of apprehension that compelled prayers from the lips of the more fearful-minded and put the others in a constant state of shuddering excitement. For the people realized that the "wonder stick" was to be the ultimate test not only of Ru's power but of the tribe's chances for very life.
Ru himself understood this fact not less clearly than any of the others. He knew that the failure or success of the weapon would decide his own future and that of his people; and he looked forward to the approaching conflict with something of the sensations of a general who knows that a single defeat will mean disaster, a single victory win him an eternal crown.
Recognizing how much was at stake, he planned his campaign with the most careful forethought. When at length the chosen day arrived, he led his ten followers down the cliff in the early dawn, when the first tinge of gray was barely beginning to touch the cliffs. All had been carefully trained in the use of the "wonder stick"; and each man carried one of the weapons and eight or ten flint-tipped arrows. Confidently they stole from the cave, while the other men stood by in a glowering silence and the women poured forth encouragement, advice, and tears; stealthily and without a sound, each a shadow against the dark rocks, they made their precarious way along the ledges and to the base of the precipice.
Having reached the floor of the cañon, they crept forward a few dozen yards with Ru at their head; then, following orders which had been drilled into their heads beforehand, each concealed himself behind a boulder. And, until the daylight shone full upon them, not a sound nor a motion came from any of that watching band.
The beast-men meanwhile were unaware of their presence. The invaders could see the hideous black forms swarming about the brink of the river, could see them dipping into the water with hoarse gibbering and hissing laughter; they could watch some sucking in long thirsty draughts, some chewing greedily at great bones, some casting logs into the blazing fire, and some snarling and quarreling like embattled dogs.
Suddenly, leaping up from behind his rock with waving arms, Ru let forth a shrill and blood-curdling scream, the battle-cry of his tribe—"Oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow!" And at the same time his followers darted into the open, brandishing their bows high in air and joining in Ru's ferocious howl. And the watchers on the cliff above took up the call, so that it seemed like the roaring of a multitude.
The beast-men, startled, ceased their screeching and jabbering, and stared as if thunderstruck at their unexpected foes. For a moment they seemed unable to utter a sound; then confused low cries of surprise and fear broke from their lips.
Headed by Ru, the assailants were meanwhile striding forward. And the hairy, growling throng, unorganized and terror-smitten, appeared uncertain whether to charge and overwhelm the intruders or dash for safety to the woods.
But when Ru and his followers were within a hundred yards of the nearest beast-man, a tall befeathered individual stalked forth from the crowd, beating his chest and growling pugnaciously. In his enormous right hand was a club nearly as tall as himself; above his thick eyebrow ridge was a ghastly painted streak of red; his teeth, chiseled to a point and stained black, gaped like the fangs of some gruesome monster. At his side, encouraged by his boldness, shambled a dozen of his fellows, their forms gigantic and stooping, their evil little eyes staring out from thickets of black hair. All snarled and angrily swung their clubs, while behind them their people pressed, gibbering at a distance, as if expecting Ru's tiny band to turn and flee.
But they did not turn and flee. Some, indeed, did tremble and draw back a pace; but there came the reassuring, commanding voice of Ru: "Now, now is the time!" And instead of taking flight, they hastily adjusted the arrows to their bows.
Still the feathered one stalked onward, side by side with his mighty companions. The space between them and Ru had been cut in half; in another instant the invaders would feel the touch of their clubs.
"Now, now is the time!" repeated Ru. And the bows were drawn back by powerful hands, then furiously recoiled. There came a sudden whizzing sound—and an amazing thing befell.
Howling with agony, two of the beast-men stopped short, clutched at long sticks protruding from their chests, staggered, and fell to earth while the blood spouted from new-made wounds.
Their fellows, startled and aghast, halted and turned with bewildered cries to the smitten ones. But even while they gaped and hesitated, there came another whizzing sound, and one of the men screamed, dropped his club, and wildly clutched a crimson wrist; while another, reeling as the blood burst from the split arteries of his neck, gave out a series of horrible gasps and gurgles, and toppled helplessly to earth.
Again came the battle-cry of the Umbaddu—"Oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow!"—taken up by the watchers on the cliff, and repeated in a long-drawn, furious chorus.
And while the uninjured beast-men, rooted to the spot by terror, gaped stupidly at their foes, they heard once more that mysterious whizzing sound—and still another of their number shrieked with pain, and fell to earth with a long reddened stick protruding from between his ribs. And this time the stricken one was the feathered giant!
A low moan of horror and dismay sounded from the watching ranks of beast-men. And rising to a deep-toned dreary monody, it seemed like the mourning of a multitude.
Simultaneously, louder and more insistent than before, there rang forth that terrorizing battle-cry, "Oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow!"
Then came another ominous whizzing, and another beast-man fell with a scream. And brandishing his bow high above his head, Ru started forward with a great leap; while after him dashed his followers in a yelling band.
The beast-men screeched with terror. Those nearest the charging squad dropped their clubs, wheeled about, and dashed pell-mell toward their frightened fellows.
It was as though they had touched a spark to dry straw. The flight turned into a panic; in all directions the beast-men began to scamper, howling and bellowing with fear, tumbling over one another in mad haste to escape, scattering and running like stampeding sheep. Into the concealment of the woods they vanished, men, women, and children in an insane mob, until in a moment the last of them had been lost to view.
And Ru, following with hoots and screams of triumph, knew that the battle had been won. The beast-men would not return; the "wonder stick" had made the new cave secure for his people....
High above him, from the throng on the cliff, there still sounded that tremulous, victorious chorus, "Oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow, oo-ow...."