The game continued day after day. It was only when the man laid a trap for him by making a wide detour on the sandbar that Warruk discovered that it was he who was being sought by the lone wanderer. After that he was more cautious than before. He followed the scent only when it was several hours old. But at night, when his pursuer was asleep, he stole up noiselessly to look upon him and to ponder, for the blazing fire prevented an attack; he had not forgotten the stinging brands with which he had been showered not so long before.
There came the night, however, when the fire died down. The opportunity had arrived and he crept up for the fatal spring.
It was then that Oomah, awakened by the hideous cackle of the woodrail, saw the blazing eyes. And before the Jaguar had time to realize that the man-creature had been aroused from his slumber, he heard a sharp twang and a fiery pain darted through his shoulder taking him so completely by surprise that he turned and fled with a scream of terror. Truly, this new enemy was beyond all understanding. His deadly sting reached out far, even into the blackness of night. Against it he, the king of the untrodden wilderness, could not hope to contend.
As he rushed madly through the undergrowth the pain in his shoulder spread rapidly and a heaviness made itself felt in his limbs. What if the creature hurling shafts of fire that could wound him so sorely should pursue? With the intense agony of his hurt, and the first signs of a coming numbness, he could not hope to give battle or even to escape further injury. No! At least not until he had had time to recover from the surprise and the confusion of the onslaught; until he had quenched his burning thirst, and until the pain had subsided. Then he would even up the score. No more watching, no more stalking! Hereafter, the mere sight of man would be the signal for his own destruction.
Warruk reached the river’s edge near the rapids where the water rushed with a seething fury through a narrow channel between the sandy banks. In the center of the roaring flood was a rock, his rock, where many an hour had been spent basking in the hot sunshine. It was his only abode, his one place of safety and to it he would go.
Without hesitation he plunged into the maelstrom. The rushing water swept him back, again and again, but each time the struggle was renewed with increased determination; and each effort carried him a few yards nearer the goal. Just as it seemed the coveted spot had been attained, the breakers sought with increased fury to drag him down; but he fought back, inch by inch, and at last one massive foot touched the rough surface of the stronghold.
With a frantic tenacity that sapped the last vestige of his fast vanishing strength he dragged his weary body onto the rock and lay down, cushioning his great head upon his forepaws. Tremor after tremor passed over him, but they were not from the chill of the night nor from the drenching of the water. The pain had gone and a drowsiness had taken its place. Here, where he had rested before, he would sleep again. The bright stars shimmered overhead; a gentle, lulling breeze fanned his face; below, the water roared and hissed in impotent rage for he had conquered it and was out of its reach.
It all spoke of the freedom of the wilderness, and of the joyousness of life. Not knowing death, Warruk did not fear it. But, knowing sleep as a reviver of spent energy, he welcomed its coming to relieve the heavy numbness that was penetrating to his very bones. It came, swiftly; the deadly poison prepared by Oomah was completing its ghastly work, was inducing the sleep; but not the normal, restful slumber that comes between sunset and sunrise but the sleep that is everlasting and without awakening.
Agoo reached the village of the Patocos after a week’s rapid journey through the forest. He had been sent by the Cantanas to look for Oomah. The twigs snapped from the undergrowth by the hunter as he walked along guided him unfailingly to the last camping site and from there a beaten trail led to the village.