Ru hides from the sabertooth
In an instant the contest was over. Barely in time to beat the spring of the lithe body and the thrust of the murderous fangs, the pursued dashed up the nearest tree and swung himself out of sight in the foliage. And the pursuer, with hair-raising screams and yelps of baffled rage, slid agilely about at the base, at times rearing its massive form against the trunk as if to dare the ascent, at times peering upward with blazing, evil eyes as of a cat that covets an inaccessible robin.
Never before had Ru beheld such a beast. Wolves, bears, rhinoceroses, hyenas, he had learned to fear and to fight; but never had he heard his tribesmen even tell of a terror such as this which, half lion and half tiger, was prowling at the foot of the tree. Still wide-eyed with horror, as the screams of the beast sent chill shivers down his spine, he drew himself up into the highest branches; then, although he knew that he was secure for a time at least, he continued to shudder as if the fanged one were even now springing at his throat.
For a long while he could still make out the tawny form among the vague shadows beneath; and when those shadows began to deepen and twilight slowly settled over the world, Ru did not know whether or not his foe still lay in wait for him.
But he did not desire to take any chances; he held resolutely to his fastness in the tree tops, determined to remain there until morning. Even had there been no sabertooth, he could not have entrusted himself to those perilous woods in the dark. Here among the branches it was not likely that any night marauder could reach him; and though it was most uncomfortable to balance himself on his lofty pinnacle, and though he was obsessed by continual fears of falling, yet he found it possible to huddle up safely in a crotch of the boughs and even to secure some sleep. He was surprised to find that the experience—although he knew it to be his first of the kind—did not seem exactly new to him; he felt almost as if he had come back to an old home, as if he had slept countless times before among the tree tops, had rocked and swung in the same wind-blown couch, had known that the same green leaves were above him, had stared down fearfully into the same blackness where shadowy terrors prowled.
But while he could not have explained why, Ru knew that every sound and sight of that interminable night seemed familiar. The tigerish scream from far off when some great beast pounced upon its prey; the shrill and horrible death-shriek of some slaughtered creature; the hooting of some owl-like bird, and the lonely plaint of some roaming wolf; the mysterious shadows that occasionally went streaking across the open space beneath, and the glowing, ghostly eyes upturned now and then as if staring malignantly at him—all these seemed as things known and feared in lonely vigils long ago, known and feared in some half-remembered dream. And lying in a clinging heap among the branches, with ears alert for every sound, and eyes searching the darkness for every flash and glitter, Ru thought of his people slumbering securely beside their camp-fires; and as he remembered how comfortably they rested on their earthen couches and how little they need fear slashing fangs and claws, the heart within him was envious and sore.
By the first dreary morning light, his eyes began to explore the ground for trace of his saber-toothed assailant. But there was no sign of the cat-like monster. Was it lurking in ambush somewhere just out of sight? or had it wearied of waiting and gone off in search of easier prey? Ru had no way of knowing, and felt by no means certain that the beast had left; but after he had hesitated for many minutes, and the full light of day streamed from above, his hunger and impatience and sheer discomfort combined to decide for him.
Warily he began the descent, inch by inch, with motions so cautious that not a leaf was ruffled—still no sign of a possible foe. At length he had reached the lower branches and stood perched there in uncertainty, ready to fling himself back into the tree top at the first hint of danger. But no such sign appeared; only a few buzzing gnats and now and then a murmuring bee broke the stillness of the woods; and his senses brought him news of nothing threatening.
At last, choking down his visions of huge fanged jaws and ambushed tawny forms, Ru released his hold on the tree and slid silently back to earth.