The wonder stick

by Stanton A. Coblentz

Down and down, on a common impulse that had no need of words, that stealthy procession continued; down and down, with the alertness of mountain-sheep and the caution of prowling cats. When at times they paused and the apprehensive eyes wandered away from the rocks close at hand, the vision of all was fastened upon a glowing red, wavering patch beneath, from which the golden sparks darted and flashed....

At length, after a period impossible to compute, the first of the band reached the flat, open space at the base of the cliff. And there, without a word, he waited, while one by one his companions took their places at his side. Many minutes went by, and each moment the party silently grew, until scores of dim figures stood motionless in the moonlight. But it was long before Grumgra, convinced that the last of his followers had joined him, lifted his club in token of command, and, still speechless, started along the river bank in the direction of the crimson flames.

If the progress of the party had been by inches before, it was now hardly by half-inches. Crouching low beside the river, the warriors worked their way at a worm's rate among the rocks and through the underbrush, cautious not to disturb a pebble or rustle a leaf. At the distance of a dozen paces, one could have seen little more than a succession of vague shapes drifting phantomlike through the darkness....

After a few minutes, the foremost of the raiders emerged from a clump of bushes into a boulder-strewn open space. Directly across from him, the red fires flashed and beamed, brighter and more vigorous than before, with angry leaping tongues of flame that illuminated dimly the ragged rim of the woods. With the exception of an occasional jutting rock, there was no obstacle between. The men now stretched themselves full-length upon the ground, and, still clutching their clubs, began to creep with serpent-like contortions and convolutions toward the intended prey. As they made their painfully slow progress, sometimes dragging their hairy bodies through patches of mire and sometimes tearing and scratching themselves on the sharp stones, they caught occasional glimpses of a huge squat form indistinctly outlined against the fire—a huge squat form brandishing a gigantic club and shuffling slowly back and forth after the manner of a sentinel.

As yet, no other living thing was to be seen; but as the marauders drew near, the sound of heavy breathing became audible, a stertorous breathing that seemed to issue not from one source but from a hundred. And the prowling ones realized that, strewn somewhere around the fire, among the rocks and near the borders of the wood, their enemies lay in unsuspecting sleep.

It was at about this time that one of the beast-men—he who had been observed stalking like a sentry near the fire—seemed to become vaguely aware of danger. He was not quite sure; but he ceased to shamble back and forth and stood rooted in silence to one spot, his eyes fastened intently before him. From among the confusion of shadows, he thought he beheld one shadow that had not been there before—a creeping shadow that glided slowly, slowly toward him. But when he paused to stare at it, the shadow ceased to move—was it really there at all? or was it but some fancy that the bad spirits of the woods had put into his mind? Perhaps it was only the moonlight shedding a pale reflection on the rocks; perhaps merely one of the boulders he had not observed before. Minutes went by, and still nothing stirred—the world seemed empty except for the wilderness of rocks, the faintly shining river, the ragged line of the cliffs and the still more ragged line of the woods, with the yellow half-moon poised in the emptiness above.

Yet to that lonely watcher came the thought that living shapes were abroad in the darkness. The suspicious shadow had not ceased to disturb him, although it was now still and innocent-looking enough. At last, tentatively and with the caution of the prowling panther, he began to glide forward, inch by inch, his club held defensively before him. He had not more than five or six yards to cover, yet many slow seconds dragged by while he crawled through the flickering gloom. Still all lay unmoving and calm; the shadow had not stirred but lay before him, dark and irregular in contour as any boulder.

Straining his eyes in a blackness that told him nothing, the sentry suddenly reached out his club and prodded the doubtful shadow. Simultaneously, a terrified scream started from his lips—the object was soft and yielding before his touch!

As the startled beast-man leaped back, a huge form sprang up from amid the shadows; and through the darkness a huge club swung. And the beast-man's scream gave place to a moan, agonized and swiftly passing; and the great shape slumped to earth, and stirred no more.

Then all at once the gloom was peopled. A hundred figures darted forward, with long clubs swinging; and, at the same time, pandemonium burst forth from the obscure depths behind the fire. A chorus of screams, responsive to the screams of the stricken one, pierced the stillness of the night; then came a tumult of voices crying out in bewilderment, terror, and rage.