_The Conflict_
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.