“But she is a Leader—”
“She is not mine. Tell her I have the authority of five Leaders, and she had better do as she is told herself.”
“She says that she has already loosed a bar from the floor, and is coming herself to take direction.”
“Tell her that if we open the door to let her in we shall have to keep it open, and how then shall we resist them? If we close it, who will be left outside to open it, when we are ready? Tell her to stay where she is.”
“Be quiet, please. She has dived in the boiling tank. We must not divert her mind. She dare not look nor breathe. Now she has reached the outer tank. It is worse than she expected, and she is very nearly exhausted. She has risen to the surface and is looking through the steam for a place to land. There are Killers on that side. She will dive again, and swim under the killing-sheds so that she may reach the farther side before they can run round. You must help her with such will as you have. She has risen. But it is too soon. There’s a floor above her head, in the water. She is swimming on. She has struck something under water. It is one of the boiling bodies. It is a Frog-Mouth. It is not quite dead. It has seized her with its teeth. Now she has willed herself free. She has risen to the surface. She can breathe, but she can only swim very slowly. She is exhausted, and she is holding one arm out of the water. It has been burnt by the water where she was bitten. She is at the edge now, but the Killers are there also. There are only three yet, and their wills are not strong enough to resist her. They are confused and frightened in mind. One has tried to push her back, striking with a javelin. She has caught it in her hand. He has fallen into the water. I have not heard one of them squeal quite like that before. She has pulled him out again, but he is still squealing. I think he will die. More Killers are coming. She is running here. She says, ‘Have the door unbarred.’ ”
I lifted the bars down, though I was far from sure of the wisdom of opening. Then I went to the window. She was already in view, running at a great pace, but with an ease and coolness that gave no impression of being hunted, but rather of one who constrained others to follow. I cannot easily convey the feeling that came to my mind as I watched her. They were too far behind to throw to any good purpose.
But round the side of the building from which I watched came another crowd, forgetful of arrows in their excitement, and were between her and the door in a moment.
“She says, do not shoot. She will draw them off, and then return to the door, and I must be ready to run out with her. They will then try to cut us off from the gate, but we shall make for the cliff behind, and climb it, and go to meet our companions. She says I can bring you if I will, and if you can climb.”
I answered, “I cannot climb that cliff. No man could.”
“She says, we must go that way. It is necessary. The animals can go on killing each other if they will. She will have none of it.”
I said, “Tell her I did not come here for my own pleasure, but to help her. If she does not need my help she can go her own way, and you can choose for yourself also. I am not going to lose the chance of giving these brutes another lesson.”
All these thoughts exchanged in less time than it will take to read them, and even while my comrade answered, with a troubled mind, “She is a Leader. She will do right. Do not shoot.” I had already sent a shaft among them which found its victim, and this I followed with another which went weakly astray as they turned and fled to safety.
The Amphibian, who had first taken a sideward leap to avoid their rush, was already moving away to draw them off the door, but seeing the effect of my shot she ran swiftly forward and pushed it open, and entered.
She stood there, holding the door open with her right hand—the left arm, which had been bitten and then scalded in the water, hanging loosely beside her—with a quiet dignity, which I could not but respect, however much I might resent her attitude to myself. She did not turn her eyes to me, nor give me a thought—she never did this from first to last—and I was conscious that there was no anger in her mind. I was too far beneath her.
She looked at the inside of the door for a moment, and then I was aware that their minds were in contact. Thought is swift, but it seemed a long time that we stood there. I was conscious that my comrade was fighting for her own will, and was, in a way, defying her Leader, if defiance it could be called, where I knew that both minds retained their poise and coolness, and the one that heard was both aloof and judicial.
At last she asked me, “Are you content that I go with her, and can you escape by the way we came?”
I replied, “You must make your own choice,” and closed my mind very quickly. I was angered at the course that events had taken, and in no mood to let her know that I was at an extremity of exhaustion. As I drew the bow the second time I knew that it was my own giddiness that made the shaft go wrong.
