Loud was the splashing of the waters as Ru and Kori pushed and pushed with their clubs; and still louder the excitement of the people as the two tribesmen made their difficult headway. At times, to be sure, they made no headway at all, but would paddle in opposing directions, and the raft would merely swing round and round; at other times they seemed to be drifting backward, and once Kori lost his balance and fell into the river, but, with Ru's help, quickly recovered himself. Yet, with all their awkwardness, they did make some progress; and, as they advanced, their movements seemed to become slightly more efficient and assured. At length they had reached the middle of the river, at length had gone beyond the middle, and, dwindling each to a slender black line, were approaching the opposite bank. Smaller and smaller they grew, until they had disappeared entirely behind a projection of land and not even a speck remained to mar the slow-moving, muddy brown expanse of the waters.
Impatiently the people waited; the air rang with their disappointment and forebodings. Could it be that their tribesmen had vanished not to return? Could it be that the river-god had been angered after all, and had devoured Kori and Ru even as he had devoured Kimo the Hairy Mammoth? A period that seemed interminable went by; many a voice cried out in apprehension, and many a prayer was murmured by frightened lips. Then suddenly there came a shout of relief; then a great roar of applause—the missing ones were returning!
But were they returning? Only one slender form was to be seen against the vague vastness of the waters. Had Kori too gone the way of the Hairy Mammoth? Horror and dismay glared from the eyes of the people as they stood muttering and waiting, muttering and waiting, while that single figure gradually drew toward them, until at last the tribesfolk knew that it was Ru coming back.
"Where is Kori?" they cried, tumultuously. "Where is he? Where is he? Where is the Running Deer?" And from one corner of the crowd there sounded the sudden wailing of a woman.
Many minutes passed, and still their doubts remained. Not until Ru had drawn his raft up to the bank and alighted did he attempt to answer the stormy questions of the throng.
"Kori is waiting on the other side," he explained. "Who wants to go next?"
No one appeared anxious for the privilege. "Targ the Thick Club, you go now with Ru!" Grumgra had to command, before another candidate could be found, and Ru undertook to ferry his second passenger across the river.
CHAPTER XVI
The Conflict
More than a week was consumed in the passage of the river. After the first day, Ru abandoned his work as self-constituted ferryman, which threatened to become endless; he found it simpler to train several of his young tribesmen in the task of ferrying, and to devote himself to the construction of new rafts. Even in this pursuit, he was not now without assistants; indeed, he became something of an overseer or director, while it was his fellows who did the actual work. With their aid, he produced a fleet of ten rafts—several of which were superior to the first two, since they were composed of as many as three or four logs lashed tightly together. It was these larger craft that bore what may be termed the "freight" of the tribe: the flint implements, and the scanty remains of the provisions.