"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.