_The Treachery of Yonyo_
It was an excited audience that made way before Ru as he steered
himself to land. Heedless of the waiting throng, he jumped into the
water as soon as the head of his craft struck the river bottom; then,
by means of strenuous straining and tugging, he pulled the catamaran up
upon the bank, lest it be borne away by the current.
In this task he was greatly impeded by the people that swarmed about
him, gibbering and shouting, gabbling incessant questions, staring at
the raft in wide-eyed curiosity.
"Do not touch it!" Ru felt forced to cry, in exasperation. "If you
do, the river-god will strike you down!" The threat proved effective;
the people at once backed away to a respectful distance, and stood
regarding Ru and his handiwork with a reverence that was a compound of
wonder and fear.
"Now do you not believe the river-god is my friend?" exclaimed Ru, when
at last the raft was safely beached. "Do I not speak truth when I say
that the river-god and the wind-god have done great deeds for me?"
Not a person had a word to say in reply; and, in the midst of an
impressive silence, Ru started away. There was none who raised a hand
or spoke a word to stop him; even the glowering Grumgra and the glaring
Zunzun seemed not less impressed than the others, and gazed after him
in a sort of stunned respect.
But there was one who did make bold to follow the retreating Ru. She
pursued him not directly but in a wide ambling curve, and her course
was not apparent; yet it was not many minutes before Ru, approaching
the edge of the woods, heard a light voice calling behind him, and
turned to find himself confronted by--Yonyo the Smiling-Eyed!
Truly, she deserved her name now if ever, for her face was like a burst
of laughter. Her large black eyes burned with brilliant fires beneath
beetling ridges; her gleaming white teeth shone merrily by contrast
with the tan of her face and the black of her dense, loose-flowing
locks; her manner was as simple and ingratiating as that of a child who
comes to crave a favor.
Ru, although he still felt anger against her, could not but be
impressed. He thought that he had never beheld anyone quite so
beautiful before; once again a strange, unaccountable feeling, half
tender and reverential, took possession of him; and he experienced
vague stirrings of a longing which he could not understand, and which
could be at once fierce and sweet.
"So the Sparrow-Hearted has worked wonders!" she exclaimed, not waiting
for the preliminary of a greeting. "Soon we will call you Ru the
Marvel-Worker! Zunzun will envy you--he has no marvel like yours! Tell
me, Ru, how did you do such great deeds?"
"I have told you already," he returned, eying her questioningly. "Have
I not told all the people about it?"
"But there are things you have not told them!" she cried. "I know there
are things you have not told them! Let me hear those things, Ru!" And
she flung herself down upon a clump of grass, and motioned to him
invitingly.
Therefore what was Ru to do but obey?
"Tell me all that you did!" she urged, smiling her most ingratiating
smile as he took a seat beside her. "Did the river-god and the wind-god
show you how to walk upon the waters? Or did you find out all by
yourself?"
"Do you not believe it was as I said?" he asked, regarding her gravely.
"Do you not believe I spoke truth?"
"I know you spoke truth!" she assured him, with what may have been a
trifle too much emphasis. And the smiles rippled across her face as she
proceeded: "But I wish the gods had not helped you so much. I wish you
had found out all by yourself how to walk upon the waters. That would
be a much bigger deed!"
"I did find out all by myself!" Ru found himself admitting; then
stopped suddenly, fearing he had said too much.
"Did you? Did you?" exclaimed Yonyo, clapping her hands delightedly.
"Tell me about it! Tell me!"
Confused and embarrassed, Ru did not know what to do except to confess
everything.
And so, beginning with how he had been saved by the drifting log in
the Harr-Sizz River, and how he had propelled himself across the lake
and later rescued himself from the man-eating savages, Ru gave Yonyo
a full account of his experiences as navigator. He dwelt at greatest
length upon the way in which he had made a raft by lashing two logs
together; and he spared no details in his description, particularly
since Yonyo hung eagerly upon his every word, questioned him when she
did not understand, made him repeat when she was in doubt, and all the
while regarded him with such wondering and admiring eyes that he felt
his adventures had been worth while merely in order to make this moment
possible.
When he had finished, she beamed upon him genially, and told him that
surely, after all, he was favored by the gods, for without the gods'
help no one could have done all that he had done. Her manner was so
affable that he felt again the old curious impulse to put his arms
about her and draw her close. But perhaps she did not know what was in
his mind, for just when he was about to act upon his desire, she rose
abruptly to her feet, and started tripping merrily away across the
fields.
"Let us go back to camp!" she called; and though he cried out his
objections, she danced away all the more swiftly. Not to be daunted
so easily, he set out in pursuit; but she increased her speed; and all
the way back she led him a gay chase, for women in those days were
fleet-footed and skilled in saving themselves by flight.
Immediately upon his return to the camp, he was waylaid by tribesmen,
who deluged him with questions; and while he was busy attempting to
answer, Yonyo disappeared among the crowd.
That evening, while Ru sat with his kinsmen before the camp-fire,
chewing at his scanty portion of meat and at some tough, uncooked roots
he had gathered, there occurred an event that brought Yonyo back to his
mind in no pleasant fashion. While scores of men and women munched and
munched contentedly and the sound of busy jaws mingled with that of the
crackling fires and jabbering tongues, the tall form of Grumgra was
seen to arise; and the thunderous voice of Grumgra lifted itself above
that of the multitude.
"One of our people has been telling us great lies!" he proclaimed,
wasting no time about coming to the point. "He has said that the
wind-god and the river-god showed him how to walk upon the waters. But
the wind-god and the river-god did not show him anything at all. One of
our people heard him say that he only tied two logs together, just as
we sometimes tie fagots. There is no magic in that at all. Is it not
so, Yonyo the Smiling-Eyed?"
And Grumgra nodded significantly toward Yonyo, before continuing:
"After the sun comes up again, I myself will show you how to walk upon
the waters. I will tie two logs together, and then one of you may go
across the river just as the Sparrow-Hearted has done. Who wants to be
the first to do that?"
Grumgra paused.... An utter silence fell across the assemblage.
"You may do it!" pronounced the chieftain, designating one of the most
stalwart-looking of his followers. "You, Kimo the Hairy Mammoth!"
Kimo shuddered; a frightened light flashed from his tiny black eyes.
But he answered not a word.
"Kimo will show you that the Sparrow-Hearted has learned no magic at
all," concluded the Growling Wolf. "He will walk across the waters very
easily--and after that we will punish the Sparrow-Hearted for telling
us lies!"
Titters and loud guffaws greeted this speech; and, from the scornful
glances in his neighbors' eyes, Ru perceived that his prestige had
dwindled toward the vanishing-point.
But it was not his prestige that troubled him now, nor even his
impending punishment--it was the treachery of her whom he had adored.
Could she actually have told Grumgra the secret he had confided for
her ears alone? If so, she was not to be forgiven! Without being able
to say why, he felt that a great wrong had been done him. And anger,
proportionate to his very helplessness, flamed to life within him. He
was gripped by a passion that was almost murderous, and he would have
been glad to strike out violently to relieve his overburdened mind and
wounded feelings.
Fortunately, it was not possible to strike out violently just then;
he had to content himself with clenching and unclenching his fists
furiously and kicking savagely at the unoffending soil. That night he
could not sleep, but stared out wide-eyed through the long hours at the
pale twinkling stars and the weird flickering firelight. When morning
came, his frenzy had spent itself; he felt little besides a great
weariness, and a disgust that was made up in part of his resentment at
the world, and in part of an insatiable vague melancholy. Yet he did
find the energy to move his lips in a whispered prayer--and, had one
drawn close, one might have heard an invocation to the river-god to
bring down vengeance upon his betrayers.
The last star had hardly been extinguished when the camp was astir.
Among the first to rise, Ru observed that gigantic figure which he
loathed above all others. He noticed apprehensively that Grumgra
appeared unusually cheerful this morning, and that, accompanied by two
or three of his henchmen, he set off toward the woods with a jauntiness
which bespoke no good design.
It was two or three hours later when Grumgra returned. His arrival
created a consternation equaled only by that which Ru had caused the
day before. Wading through the shallow water near the river bank, he
and his helpers were pulling a raft similar to that which Ru had made!
Similar, but not quite the same, for it was longer and the logs were
thicker, which made it more impressive and also more unwieldy; and the
vines and creepers that bound it were fastened in two places instead
of in four.
Mounting the bank, the Growling Wolf stood regarding his handiwork with
every sign of pleasure, while the vociferous multitude pressed close
to see. "Grumgra's magic is better than Ru's!" they cried, jubilantly.
"The river-god does great deeds for Grumgra! He has made a bigger
wonder than Ru can make!" And many were the exclamations of awe and
admiration at the cleverness of Grumgra.
"Now I will show what big lies the Sparrow-Hearted tells! Kimo the
Hairy Mammoth, you walk upon the waters!" ordered the chieftain,
pointing to the bulky form of the chosen one, who stood cowering in the
rear.
Urged by his companions, Kimo came slowly forward, although his knees
seemed unsteady beneath him, and terror shone from his eyes.
"Take this club," Grumgra continued, thrusting the long, straight limb
of a dead tree into Kimo's hand. "Take it, and push yourself to the
middle of the river! It is very easy--even the Sparrow-Hearted can do
it!"
But, at the crucial moment, the Hairy Mammoth stood hesitating, and
casting desirous eyes toward the forest. Had not strong arms restrained
him, he might have been tempted to make a dash for liberty and life.
"O chief," he pleaded, "the river-god wants to take me. I cannot swim
farther than a strong man can jump. Let some other--"
But Grumgra's club was raised like a challenge, and a foreboding scowl
came across the chieftain's face.
Understanding the strength of this argument, the unlucky one stepped
toward the waiting logs.
In the moment that elapsed before he had mounted the raft, the throng
was startled by an unexpected voice.
"Anger the river-god, and he will strike you down!" came the warning of
Ru, whose clear tones rang with the courage of desperation. "Terrible
is the punishment of the river-god!"
There was a moment's silence; several of the people shuddered; Kimo
again glanced longingly toward the inaccessible woods. But in an
instant there came the deep reassuring voice of Grumgra. "What is this
the Sparrow-Hearted says? Who would be stopped by the Sparrow-Hearted?
He speaks only empty words! And he who speaks empty words shall be
punished! Go, Kimo! Go out and walk upon the waters!"
Still trembling, Kimo stepped into the water, and hauled himself
clumsily onto the raft. Then, standing with one leg planted on each
log, he began to push his pole awkwardly and yet powerfully against the
river bottom. And the raft, responsive, slid slowly out into the waters!
Eagerly the people crowded forward to see, until, in the excitement,
not a few were shoved into the river. But no one seemed to notice; all
eyes were fixed upon the retreating figure. And Kimo, finding himself
perched safely upon the raft, appeared to regain confidence; he began
to push and paddle as if accustomed to manipulating rafts all his life;
and once or twice he even paused to wave to his gaping tribespeople.
Farther and farther into the waters he propelled himself; farther
and farther, until a stone thrown by the strongest man could not
have reached him; farther and farther, until he became but a vague
and minute black blur, with features no longer distinguishable, with
voice scarcely audible even when he shouted. Now he was approaching
the middle of the river, and the current was carrying him slightly
down-stream, yet he still struggled toward the opposite bank; now the
head of his raft was buffeted and turned by the waters, and he was
straining to keep it straight; now he seemed actually past the middle,
seemed actually to be drawing near the land beyond--when suddenly he
was to be seen no more.
There was a splash, a far-off, quickly muffled scream--and two logs,
bound together at one end but disentangled at the other, were floating
haphazard down the current. From just behind the logs came a series
of small splashes; then a hoarse cry, then another hoarse cry, like a
half-stifled call for help; then still feebler splashes; then suddenly
only silence, and the undisturbed wide current, and the two logs
drifting slowly down-stream.
The people gaped in amazement. For a moment they did not seem to
understand what had happened; then, as realization gradually came to
them, they uttered low cries of fear and horror. Their glaring eyes
were shocked and frightened; and first one and then another began to
pray to the river-god, until all had joined in a distracted chorus,
and there burst forth a tumult of pleas and groans and mutterings to
the god of the waters not to punish them for their daring, and not to
believe that they would willingly do him wrong.