Sprawling at the peak of the boulder, he peered over, and there he saw his father beating and kicking and hurling Jud Lasher about on the sharp stones. He swung his fist like the scythe the farmer swung and slashed Jud’s head and swept him to the ground; then picked him up and raised him high in the air and hurled him flopping against a rock; and plunged down upon him.
His father was like a mad dog that Keith had seen worrying a sheep once. The froth streeled from his mouth and his teeth were gnashing; he snarled like a mad dog.
At last he shoved and knocked Jud over into the green pool, all misty now with dead weeds and brown fallen leaves. The pool was so shallow that Jud’s face was not covered and he threshed about, bawling, choking, begging for mercy.
But RoBards knelt on him and twisted his face round and held it under the water. Keith hardly knew his father; the look on his face was so strange.
The boy was so afraid of the great fear that filled the Tarn with a cold wind that he let go his grip on the rock and rolled and scuffled down the side of the boulder to the ground.
His father heard him fall. Forgetting Jud Lasher, he ran to Keith. The boy cowered, expecting to be beaten, but when his father drew near, his face was so charged with tenderness that he was surely a different man. The boy wondered who it was that had just been destroying Jud Lasher. RoBards knelt by Keith and felt about him to see if any of his bones were broken, lifted him and set him on his feet, and said in a hoarse tone:
“Run back to Immy and wait.”
Keith started to return and was slipping through a narrow cleft between two boulders when he heard his father’s voice and turned.
He saw Jud Lasher stumbling weakly from the pool on all fours. He was slimy and weedy as a green-brown snake. But his face was white, washed clean with water and terror.
When he sprawled at the edge of the pool and tried to rise, Keith saw his father move forward and set his foot on Jud’s hand; heard him say: