But the day passed without further sign of danger. The cañon depths remained unruffled and tranquil; no voice was to be heard from the thick, secluding woods, save the occasional grunt of a prowling beast or the querulous cry of a bird; no moving thing was to be seen except the waters that foamed impetuously from the gray rocks, and now and then an antlered shape that emerged shadowlike from the woods, and shadowlike vanished. By the time twilight fell, Grumgra was convinced that the beast-men had gone never to return.
And now, forgetting the foe altogether, he set about to look once more for Ru. But no Ru was to be seen among the throng by the fire, and no Ru could be detected even in the black cavern recesses; nor could anyone say where Ru had been seen; while of Wuff, likewise, there was no sign. Although the chieftain growled and grumbled a great deal, he could gain nothing by threatening Kuff and Woonoo and their fellow tribesmen; and finally, muttering that the following day should see the Sparrow-Hearted's end, he abandoned the quest and settled himself down to sleep.
It was sometime in the depths of the night that Grumgra awoke. About him on all sides sounded the rhythmic breathing of his people; between him and the cave entrance the fire, burning to a dull red glow, cast feeble shadows. Instinctively Grumgra reached for his club—although his alert eyes had beheld nothing suspicious, he was aware that not all was well. And as his fingers closed about the oaken cudgel, he caught sight of that which sent a howl of terror shivering from his throat. Just beyond the cave entrance there was a light—and the light was not that of the cavern fire!
In an instant, the place was in an uproar. Aroused by Grumgra's scream, the people staggered to their feet with confused cries. Then, panic-stricken, they surged without knowing why through the semidarkness, stumbling over one another, shoving one another to the floor, blundering against the walls like lamp-dazzled moths.
Yet at first there was nothing to justify their agitation—nothing, except the mutterings of Grumgra. "I saw a light," he mumbled, "—a light as big as a man's hand." But the light had disappeared; and where it had been there was only blackness.
"There are bad spirits about!" Grumgra called out, when at last he had collected his wits, and the confusion had begun to subside. "There are bad spirits about! Listen to me, my people! If you are very quiet, you may see the spirits!"
Frightened cries burst forth anew; but Grumgra, with a snarl, threatened whoever should speak again. Very quickly the threat took effect, and the people lapsed into silence.
A minute dragged by, a slow minute that seemed never-ending. The only sound was from the suppressed breathing of the multitude; among all those shadowy shapes, there was no movement. How long they would have remained thus petrified by terror no one can say; in another moment, someone might have broken down, and screamed out his fears; but before the moment could pass, there occurred the event for which Grumgra was waiting.
In the dark entrance of the cave, a flaring light burst forth, borne slowly at the height of a man's hand. And, by its sputtering, sallow illumination, a dim black form was vaguely visible.
For a second the watchers within the cave stood gaping in silence; then, as by an electrical impulse, the same horrible thought shot through scores of minds.