"Before we do this," he told them when the others had gone, "we must try once more to slip beyond the wall and slay the demons." "They will guard each other," a hunter protested. "We cannot overcome them without the help of the god-men." "We must try," Neju said. The three hunters looked at each other. "We will leave the party at the edge of the clearing when the moon is high and try as we did before. And if we fail then they must follow us crying encouragement to the god-men. But we must try first." The hunters, one by one, said, "We will obey you." * * * * * They gathered, all of them. And they began to move: a slow, twisting line, hesitating now and again to help the older members. A baby cried and its mother shushed it. The forest was alive with movement and chattering. There was fear and resolve on the natives' faces. Neju and the three hunters led them. They scouted the territory ahead. The column rested frequently and the aged clucked to themselves, confused, uncertain. And the others tried to reassure them and make them comfortable. The children ranged, but not far. The tame _corlieu_ followed them in the tree tops, chattering down, from time to time, bewildered. On they moved and the sun fell and the first forest shadows came out to welcome the night. The sunset shower came, unusually heavy, silencing the forest sounds by its patter on the leaves. The air smelled new and crisp. A group of birds huddled together, chirping sleepily, in a century old _conje_ tree. "We must hurry," Neju said. And the column moved faster, its sounds of movement being hushed by the damp foliage. Vines and branches parted before it and folded into place after it, swishing softly. The children huddled in, and the column hurried. When twilight was full upon the forest, and the first bright hero souls were in the sky, Neju slipped back from the advance of the column to whisper, "We are almost there. Be very still." Neju gestured that they should spread out, and when their positions suited him, he motioned for them to advance. And finally they came to the edge of the forest. There lay the stockade, asparkle with electric lights. The females drew in sharp breaths at the sight of such a magnificent structure--Ah, what the demons build for their servants! they seemed to say. And the helicopter, coming in from a long flight of exploration settled inside the stockade, its blades sparkling in the new moon. The natives shuddered in superstitious awe; they clutched their noise makers closer to their bodies as if for protection. * * * * * Neju and the three hunters were at the edge of the grasses; the stockade was silent except for the pound of sentry boots. Neju motioned for the three to remain. He hunched his body and ran to the base of the wall, breaking the almost invisible wire without noticing.