So Ru reflected—but he did not spend much time on fruitless reveries. The problem before him was a practical one; and, with all the practical sense at his command, he set about to solve it. In constructing his new craft, the one important step would be to lash the two logs firmly together—and how could this be accomplished? Fortunately, Ru recalled how members of his tribe, in carrying fagots from the woods, had long been accustomed to bind them together with the tough stems and tendrils of creeping plants; and, moreover, he had long ago learned just what plants were most useful for such purposes and where to find them. So it was a matter of but an hour to go browsing through the woods, and, with the aid of flint implements, to cut off fibers enough to bind as many logs as need be.
Late that afternoon, as the Umbaddu huntsmen, laden with their meager trophies, returned gloomily from the chase, they were startled by an extraordinary sight. Coming out through a clump of bushes onto the river bank, they paused with exclamations of wonder and fear—in the midst of the waters was a spectacle such as no eye had ever rested on before since the world's beginning. Was that a man standing on a little platform in the center of the river, standing in one place and yet moving slowly down-stream, while pushing and pushing with a long pole? Was it a man, or was it a god? For what man had ever been able to stand on the waters without being drowned?
"The bad spirits of the river! The bad spirits of the river are coming after us!" cried some of the more superstitious. Hysterical with dread, they flung themselves down on the ground, and began to pray frantically. At the same time, some of their fellows fled shrieking back to the woods, and some merely watched and trembled—and all the while that terrible figure on the river kept drawing nearer, nearer. At length it was no longer a vague black blur, but had taken on definite outlines. And, strange to say, those outlines were familiar! The watchers were amazed to see the hairy limbs and deerskin robe of one whom they recognized.
Or, if their eyes bore false reports, could their ears also deceive them? Was that not a well-known voice crying out, faintly and from afar, and yet clearly and in their own tongue: "My tribesmen, my tribesmen, look what the river-god has given me! Come, and see what the river-god has given!"
Ru walks the waters
And while scores of gleaming black eyes stared out across the waters in consternation and wonder, Ru the Sparrow-Hearted rode by on his way down the river.
Half an hour later an excited group had gathered on the bank by the tribal camping-place. Men were shouting, women gibbering and crying, children racing back and forth with tumultuous exclamations; and all eyes were fastened upon a solitary form in midstream. But Ru, while he could not but know of the uproar he had caused, seemed in no hurry to come to land. He appeared not to hear his people calling, but by turns allowed himself to drift slowly down-stream, and then paddled energetically up-stream until he had regained every lost inch.