With their advance, a groan of despair rose from the imprisoned women. Daiv had made his escape too soon. He had not seen, had not suspected, the existence of a weapon such as the Japcans' force-wall. At one moment a throng of roaring Wild Ones was racing upon the village; at the next, scores were piled, shaken and bruised, before that invisible barrier, unharmed, but—futile!
How futile, they did not at first realize. There was courage in the hearts of the Wild Ones. Courage the existence of which the Clanswomen had not dreamed. Despite their bruises and the racking pain which—Meg knew from experience—was throbbing through their veins, they rose from the ground; they hurled themselves once again and viciously at the wall they could not see.
Lances shattered against that impenetrable force-field; swords were hammered into blunt grips—but the Wild Ones could not effect entry.
Daiv was everywhere at once; begging, pleading, cajoling his new-found army into greater effort. Twice Meg trembled as he threw himself vainly against that force; she matched, with her own cheeks, the whiteness in his as the second time he picked himself up weak, pain-racked, exhausted. She gripped the arm of the Woman nearest her; it was Lora.
An invisible wall seemed to rear itself before him as Daiv hurled his body forward.
"They outnumber the Japcans. That is what my mate counted on; that though many might fall before the rays of the yellow ones, enough would break through to free us! We must help them!"
Lora shook her head grimly.