Suddenly the funeral drum ceased in mid-note.
The village began to stir uncertainly, and a native burst, running, upon the clearing. He was crying something in an excited voice. A wail went up from those nearest him, and each ran off toward his house. A young lad sped toward the seated hunters.
When he arrived, he was panting. "A demon comes! It is in the air like a bird!"
The hunters glanced at Neju for leadership. Then, from a great distance, they heard a whirring like the beat of giant wings.
"Run!" Neju cried, and they scrambled to their feet.
"Separate and run!" Neju cried.
The other villagers were scattering toward the forest in all directions. Neju glanced around him. He saw a female stop, rush back, scoop up a child who had been playing with a polished bone. Then, almost as if by magic, the village was empty. The staked animals began to whine, and one of the corlieu at the far edge of the clearing gave a gigantic leap and disappeared into the tightly woven branches.
Then Neju turned to run and the sound of the air demon was nearer. But he had taken only two or three steps before he stopped, frozen, for a single instant. Then he turned and sped toward the Chieftain's lodge.
No one had warned the old Father.