Wuff, needing no second invitation, sprang with a snarl at the chieftain and buried his teeth deep in the flesh of the sinewy neck.
Grumgra, taken by surprise, was for a moment defenseless. His club lay on the ground, hopelessly out of reach; he could only release Yonyo as suddenly as if she had been a hot coal, and, howling with pain and rage, grapple instinctively for the throat of his aggressor. Meanwhile the sharp teeth cut deeper and deeper; a warm stream began to trickle down Grumgra's neck and chest; he could feel the fierceness of the living fury that was rending away at his flesh.... A madness such as even he had rarely known came over him as his hands closed about a hairy throat; with desperate power he pressed, squeezed and pressed with all the vehemence of hatred and the lust for life. And gradually the tormenting fangs were withdrawn and the body of his foe crumpled up in his grasp.
Then, while a murderous frenzy possessed him and he was about to break the neck of his adversary, a club came down violently upon his arm. Who it was that struck him he did not know—screaming with agony, he unclenched his fingers. As he did so, someone behind him snatched the furry form away, and his ears caught the patter of retreating footsteps. Blinded as he was by frenzy and pain, he wheeled about a fraction of a second too late; he saw no more than the foliage closing above two dark, swift-moving figures.
That night, around the tribal camp-fire, Grumgra was unusually sullen and morose. More than one erring tribesman felt the chastisement of his club; and it was noted that several times he started with a growl toward Ru, and that Ru, followed by his pet wolf, made haste to disappear amid the shadows. It was also noted that Grumgra's throat bore a great ragged new-made wound; and the rumor circulated that he had received this injury while wrestling single-handed with a bear.
CHAPTER XVIII
The Migration Ends
On the following morning Ru overheard an interesting conversation. Seated in the hollow of a great boulder, he caught the muttered words of Grumgra and Zunzun as they conferred on the opposite side of the rocks. And unhesitatingly he crouched down so as not to be seen and not to miss a syllable.
"But why not kill him the easiest way?" Grumgra was saying. "One blow of my club—"
"That would seem better," came the suave interruption of the Marvel-Worker. "But would it be? I too want to be rid of him, for has he not laughed at my wonders? and does he not try false wonders of his own? But let us not be too much in haste. If you kill him now, the people will not believe our story about the bear. They will guess that you have been fighting with the Sparrow-Hearted, and will ask why you did not kill him at once. And how they will laugh then! They will whisper that the Sparrow-Hearted is stronger than you!"
"I will wring the Sparrow-Hearted's neck!" growled the chieftain, stung by Zunzun's hateful suggestion.