The wonder stick

by Stanton A. Coblentz

Prayers to the gods of the waters and of the winds were still frequently on Ru's lips, and on sundry occasions were uttered within the hearing of Grumgra; and while the chieftain perhaps doubted, still he had more than once been heard to mutter uncertainly to himself while listening to the Sparrow-Hearted's supplications; and in his tiny black eyes Ru had beheld a glint of wonder which verged upon fear.

Yet, at one of the tribal meetings, he had let it be known that Yonyo was his woman, and that none but him must lay hands upon her. And thus by a word he had ended the courtship of Kuff the Bear-Hunter and the possible courtship of all the other tribesmen—with the sole exception of Ru.

But the days went by, and little happened. Sometimes Grumgra, casting greedy eyes upon Yonyo, would start toward her with a growl that was perhaps meant for tenderness. But she would dash away, screaming with fear, and he would turn aside indifferently, as though she were not worth the trouble of a pursuit. This was not like Grumgra, and the people wondered; and still more they wondered when Woonoo and Kuff brought tales that Ru had been seen with Yonyo, and the chieftain rewarded the informers with a snarl and a blow from his club.

Each day excited rumors circulated that Grumgra was about to take vengeance upon Ru. Yet the expected outburst was long delayed—was delayed, in fact, until the people had lost patience and almost ceased to anticipate it—and when it did occur, the results were totally unexpected. And the reason was that, in the interval, Ru had gained an ally of a type unique in the history of the Umbaddu.

It chanced one day that half a dozen men of the tribe—Ru among them—came across some new-made wolf tracks. "There may be some little wolves in a cave," suggested one. "And little wolves are good to eat. Let us find out." So curiosity and hunger prompted the men to follow the trail through the wilderness.

As they slowly advanced, the clubs of all were poised alertly; the eyes of all gleamed warily; not a murmur gave token of their excitement. At length, to their delight, they came upon that which they had hoped for—among a cluster of rocks there was a little hollow, and it was from this retreat that the wolf had evidently emerged.

Very cautiously, creeping on hands and knees, they approached. The stench of carrion came to their nostrils; confused low growls were borne to their ears. For an instant they paused, then crawled on again; actual pleasure was expressed in each wily eye; the clubs were lifted a little more cautiously than before, but slowly and steadily they still pressed forward.

At last the foremost of the party halted—not more than a yard from the cave entrance. Then, while the others gripped their clubs more firmly and a petrified silence held them all, the leader stole forward another pace, and peered anxiously into the hollow.

Straightway a whoop of triumph split the air, and the huntsman waved his arms exultantly. His comrades, crowding up to see, observed that the cavern was empty—except for six furry little forms huddled together against the farthest corner of the rocky wall.

Swinging his club with savage relish, one of the men crept in through the entrance. The wolf cubs snarled, and their feeble jaws snapped; then madly they scattered in all directions. But the club swung, and then swung again, and then swung once more; and the air was filled with the squeals and yelps and baby wailings of the slaughtered.