he turned and ran on , not caring who this had been , not caring suddenly about anything , but stretching every sinew of his powerful frame , and springing as wildly from the pads of his hands and feet as he could , dashing over the slower figure ahead of him , rounding the great bonfire for perhaps the fifth or sixth time now , he did n't know , and greedy for the wind on his face as if he were devouring the wind , the menacing shadows thrown by the gargantuan blaze , and driven by the deep rolling drums and the wild grinding song of the pipes .