At the center of the line, immediately before the main Cave-mouth--whose yawning entrance seemed to be the objective of the swarming beasts--A-ya was heading the battle, with the lame slave, Ook-ootsk, crouched fighting at her side like a colossal frog gone mad. Here the fires were almost extinguished--but the line of slain beasts formed a tolerable barricade, upon the top of which the women leapt, stabbing with their spears and screeching shrill taunts, while the old men leaned upon the gory pile to save their strength with frugal precision. Here and there among the carcases was the body of a woman or an old man, impaled on the horn of a bull or ripped open by the rending antler of an elk. As Grom and his men came shouting across the level a huge woolly rhinoceros plunged over the barrier, his bloody horn ploughing the carcases, trod down a couple of the defenders without appearing to see them, dashed through the nearest fire, and charged blindly into the Cave-mouth with his matted coat all ablaze. The children and old women who had not already fled down to the beach shrieked in horror. The frantic monster heeded them not at all, but went thundering on into the bowels of the cavern. "Go back, all you women!" yelled Grom above the tumult, as he and his men raced to the barrier. "Get down to the beach with the children. We'll hold the rush back till you get down. Run! Run!" Sobbing with the fury of the struggle, the women obeyed, darting back and pouncing upon their own little ones--all but A-ya, who remained doggedly at Grom's side. "Go," ordered Grom fiercely. "The children need you. Get them all down." Sullenly the woman obeyed, seeing he was right, but still lusting for the fight, though her wearied arm could now do little more than lift the spear. Under the shock of these fresh fighters, with lionlike heads, masterful eyes, and smashing, irresistible weapons, the front ranks of the animals recoiled, trampling those behind them; and for a few minutes the pressure was relieved. Grom turned to the old men. "You go now," he ordered. But they refused. "We stay here," cried one, breathless, but with fire in his ancient eyes. "None too much room on the rafts." And they fell again grimly to the fight. Grom laughed proudly. With such mettle even in withered veins, the Tribe, he thought, was destined to great things. He turned to the lame slave, whom he had ever favored for his faithfulness. "You go! You are lame and cannot run." The crouching giant looked up at him with a widemouthed grin. "I am no woman," said he. "I stay and hold them back when you all go. I kill, and kill. And then I go very far." He waved one great gnarled hand, dripping with blood, toward the sun and the high spaces of air.