_The Migration Ends_
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.
[Illustration: _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.