sinous wood which not only
blazed freely but held the flame tenaciously. These faggots had been
placed with only their tips in the fire. Seizing them by their
unlighted ends, the warriors hurled them, blazing, full into the
gaping faces before them.

The brutal, gaping faces screeched with pain and terror, and the whole
front rank, beating frantically at the strange missiles, wheeled about
and clawed at the rank behind, battling to force its way through. But
the rolling masses were not to be denied. After a brief, terrible
struggle, the would-be fugitives were borne down and trodden
underfoot. The new-comers were greeted with a second discharge of the
blazing brands, and the dreadful scene repeated itself. But now there
was a difference. For many of the assailants, realizing that there was
no chance of retreat, came straight on, heedless of brand or spear,
with the deadly, uncalculating fury of a beast at bay.

For some seconds, under the specific directions of the Chief on the
right center and of Grom far to the left, many of the blazing brands
had been thrown, not into the faces of the front rank, but far over
their heads, to fall among the tinder-dry brushwood. Long tongues of
flame leaped up at once, here, there, everywhere, curling and licking
savagely. Screeches of horror arose, which brought all the hordes to a
halt as far back as they could be heard. A light wind was blowing up
the valley, and almost at once the scattered flames, gathering volume,
came together with a roar. The hordes, smitten with the blindest
madness of panic, turned to flee, springing upon and tearing at each
other in the desperate struggle to escape.

Shouting triumph and derision, the defenders bounded forward, down
over the edge of the plateau, and fell upon the huddled ranks before
them. But these, with all escape cut off, and far outnumbering their
exultant adversaries, now fought like rats in a pit. And the men of
the caves found themselves locked in a struggle to the death just when
they had thought the fight was done.

A-ya, no longer needed at the fires, was just about to follow Grom
down into the thick of the reeking battle, when a scream from the
cave-mouth made her whip round. She was just in time to see Ook-ootsk
hurl his spear at the tall figure of Mawg, leaping down upon him from
the broken slope on the left. A half score of the Bow-legs were
following hard upon Mawg's heels. With a scream of warning to Grom she
rushed bac