By this time, half a dozen spectators had gathered to watch the sport. With titters and chuckles of raucous mirth they encouraged Kuff and Woonoo, meanwhile joining in boisterously by jeering the Sparrow-Hearted with every evil-sounding name at their command. And after a minute one of the more audacious spirits, not to be satisfied with mere words, picked up a pebble and ostentatiously flung it at Ru, who was now standing waist-deep a dozen yards from shore, undecided how to attempt another landing.
With a splash, the pebble disappeared in the water just to Ru's rear. And a chorus of gleeful shouts broke forth as Ru turned with a start to see what had happened. Immediately several of the men, quick to seize upon ideas, profited from the example; and in another instant Ru was the center of a little shower of missiles. Most of them vanished into the water without effect, but one of them struck his arm with a painful thud, to the immense amusement of his tormentors; and so many stones were whirling through the air and splashing in the water that Ru took the one obvious course, which was to make with all possible speed toward the center of the stream.
But his withdrawal lent additional zest to the amused chorus on the bank, as well as additional speed to the stones that pursued him. So insistent was the bombardment that he had to press on and on through the deepening torrent, until at length the bottom slipped from beneath him and he had no choice except to swim.
But his tribesmen did not seem to know when they had had enough of a joke. Although by this time Ru was so exhausted that he could barely keep afloat, the mood of entertainment that possessed the spectators was far from satisfied. Not realizing or not caring what grave results threatened, they continued to pelt Ru gleefully, following him along the bank as he drifted down-stream, and all the while jeering him to their hearts' content.
Ru meantime was engaged in what promised to be a life-or-death struggle. Again and again he felt the powerful swirling torrent breaking over him, and only with an effort lifted his head for a reviving breath. Again and again he swallowed huge gulps of the muddy water, and heard a muffled roaring like a death-threat in his ears; while, in his terror, he had visions of huge strangling arms reaching out for him from the depths and dragging him down as he had once seen a stag dragged down by the quicksands.
He heard no more the gibes and taunts of the mob on the bank, heard no more the splashing of the stones; he was waging a desperate fight against the current, which was narrower here and much swifter than where his tribe had crossed—and the current was winning the battle. His panting heart was straining in vain, his tugging muscles pulled feebly against the gigantic body of the water; his bulging eyes were staring in a last agony at the vague, rushing shore; louder and louder dinned the drumming in his ears, more insistent the force of that pounding, suffocating fury that broke over his head; he floundered and lunged, rose again and sank, slowly rose again and sank, while over him came a maddening, baffling longing for air.... Then strange lights and shadows were wavering about him, something dark and formless was bearing down upon him—and, the next he knew, his fingers were clinging to some great and solid object.
Opening his eyes, he felt himself returning by degrees to life, and realized that he was gripping the floating trunk of a dead tree, which was bearing him swiftly down-stream toward an unknown expanse of blue water.
CHAPTER IX
Lost!
Not yet recovered from his shock and exhaustion, Ru climbed with difficulty onto the gnarled upper surface of the drifting tree trunk and lay there at full-length, his hands clutching a projecting broken-off limb, his feet trailing behind him more than half in the water. He was still too weak to think of swimming to the bank; and while he lay on his new-found craft, gradually regaining his strength, the current was carrying him steadily toward the unknown blue expanse.