"You devils!" he execrated. "Oh, for a ton of Pulverite to drop among you!"
"Look, master, look! The bridge! The bridge!"
He turned quickly as old Gesafam pointed up-stream.
There, clearly outlined against the sky, he saw a dozen--a score of little, crouching figures emerge from the forest on the north bank, and at a clumsy run defile along the swaying footpath high above the rapids.