The wonder stick

by Stanton A. Coblentz

The watchers on the cliff had spoken truly.... Even while they stood gaping in expectant horror, the first stone was thrown in one of the earliest of all human wars.

The beginning was as much a challenge as an attack. One of the beast-men, taller and stouter even than his giant fellows, stepped out from the throng with defiant screams and howls, picked up a rock the size of a small apple, and hurled it toward the crowd on the cliff. His aim was good; the initial speed of the stone was prodigious; but the distance was too great; and the missile, stopping many feet short of its goal, did a graceful about-turn and plunged back to earth with such force that the beast-men scattered before it in terror.

And from the watchers on the cliff came a low cackling of derisive laughter.

But Grumgra, not content with such mild ridicule, shouldered his way to the edge of the precipice, flung both his great arms high in air, and let forth such a bellow as must have strained even his powerful lungs.

While the woods rang with the echoes of his wrath, there sounded from beneath him an equally loud bellow; then other bellowings in a chorus fit to rival a thunderstorm. Stones in a shower leaped into air, although always to fall back without reaching their mark.

As Grumgra watched these futile missiles, a new idea dawned in his mind. Seizing a huge rock, he flung it downward with terrible force; and it came to earth among the beast-men with a thud that might well have alarmed them.

But no one was injured; and the low-voiced laughter of the savages, evil-sounding and sibilant almost to the point of hissing, broke forth in a harsh and demonic chorus.

That laughter was soon to end. A second rock from the hand of Grumgra went hurtling downward, straight toward a dense little knot of men and women. This time the watchers heard no thud of the striking missile; but there came a frightful moan, followed by terrified shrieks; and one of the great shaggy forms was seen to slump to earth, where it lay in an inert mass.

While howls of rage and yells of dismay broke forth among the beast-men, the little band on the cliff joined voices in a tremendous shout, a long-drawn scream of exultation.

Profiting from the example of Grumgra, all the men now picked up stones and pebbles and flung them downward. Whether their aim was good they never learned, for the beast-men, hearing the missiles thudding and clattering about them, showed no desire to face the onslaught. Squealing and bawling in a panic-stricken mob, they made for the shelter of the woods. In less than a minute, the last of them had disappeared into the concealing foliage—and thus was the first round in the fight won by the Umbaddu.