ocelot came into view not a dozen paces away. So soon as this prowler on
mischief bent, oblivious of his presence, had passed on, he sought the
densest cover in the forest island and curled up for a much-needed rest.

The first season of drought in the life of Warruk, the black cub, was
drawing to a close. He felt the coming change just as surely as had
Suma, his mother, one short year before while sunning herself on the
rock in the river. The urge came from within and past experiences had
taught the cub that not to heed the voice of his ancestors was to court
trouble.

His wanderings had not taken him far into the low country; consequently
he had not far to return to the forested region skirting the foothills.
This was fortunate, for the rains swooped down upon the yearning world
with a suddenness that was appalling.

Instead of the usual warning showers, water gushed in torrents from the
sodden skies; and, during the brief intervals between the deluges the
thunder of the flooded river replaced the steady, monotonous drone of
the rain with its terrifying warning.

At nightfall, when the tropical day drew to its abrupt close, there was
usually a lull in the tempest, as if the elements had hushed their
ragings so that the cowering earth might view without distraction the
terrible spectacle that unfolded itself.

An ominous calm made itself felt by its very intensity. The low, dark
clouds in rafts scurried past at frantic speed; through rifts in the
fleeing masses the higher layers were visible, hurrying in a different
direction. The whole scene was a picture of wild confusion, and
then--far on the horizon the cloud curtains were thrust aside for one
brief moment. The sun, like a splash of blood, hovered waveringly over
the rim of the black abyss and with a sudden plunge passed into
oblivion. But, that short glimpse was enough. Siluk, the Storm-God, had
plunged a knife into the heart of the heavens; no wonder the skies wept
for months and months while the earth, wrapped in a dark pall of
clinging mists also mourned, with streams and rivulets, like gushing
tears, cutting deep furrows into its face.

Warruk knew nothing of all this. He simply felt the urge to leave the
low country and by dint of hard travel managed to keep ahead of the
encroaching water until he reached safety in the forested country.

The sight of the great trees, the chatter of the monkeys, and the smell
of the rotting vegetation recalled a thousan