Thus it was, that hours later, as the jet curtain of jungle night trembled insecurely at its horizon, threatening to rise at any moment in the pearly flame of tropical dawn, Ramey stood for the second time at the mouth of the cavernous tunnel whose other maw disgorged into the very heart of Ravana's island stronghold.
This time he was not accompanied by a mere handful of his friends, and by a single chattering Burrower whose explanations had to be translated by Captain Kohrisan. Behind him were arraigned six full divisions of the ape-warrior's troops. Hairy archers, bows gripped and ready for split-second use, quivers abristle with shafts of feathered death ... ape-lancers, stalwartly clenching razor-edged spears ... ape-swordsmen, fully aware of what this battle meant to them and their kind. A great future, new manhood if it succeeded; a return to jungle savagery for all their kind if it failed.
Heading these was their commander, Kohrisan. Only human companion of Ramey on this expedition was Lake O'Brien, who insisted on becoming a member of the party.
"I'm going with, Winters," he declared flatly. "So take it or leave it!"
Ramey said worriedly, "But it—it's dangerous. We may run plunk into a detachment of Ravana's soldiers, and be wiped out before we even effect an entrance—"
"Sure," assented Lake cheerfully. "And we may bump into trolls and gnomes in yonder tunnel. It looks sinister enough. Stop talking, Ramey. You're wasting time. If anything should happen to you, there ought to be another earthman at Kohrisan's side. Anyhow—" He grinned—"I'd rather walk to Lanka than ride one of those junky boats. I get seasick easy."
Ramey surrendered, not without a secret pleasure at the gay O'Brien twin's insistence. He turned for the last time to Red Barrett.
"Got everything straight, Redhead?"
Barrett nodded.