the captains of the Shining One could wield the _Keth_ and their other
uncanny weapons freely. We had learned, too, that every forge and
artisan had been put to work to make an armour Marakinoff had devised
to withstand the natural battle equipment of the frog-people--and both
Larry and I had a disquieting faith in the Russian's ingenuity.

At any rate the numbers against us would be lessened.

Next, under the direction of the frog-king, levies commanded by
subsidiary chieftains had completed rows of rough walls along the
probable route of the Murians through the cavern. These afforded the
_Akka_ a fair protection behind which they could hurl their darts and
spears--curiously enough they had never developed the bow as a weapon.

At the opening of the cavern a strong barricade stretched almost to
the two ends of the crescent strand; almost, I say, because there had
not been time to build it entirely across the mouth.

And from edge to edge of the titanic bridge, from where it sprang
outward at the shore of the Crimson Sea to a hundred feet away from
the golden door of the abode, barrier after barrier was piled.

Behind the wall defending the mouth of the cavern, waited other
thousands of the _Akka_. At each end of the unfinished barricade they
were mustered thickly, and at right and left of the crescent where
their forest began, more legions were assembled to make way up to the
ledge as opportunity offered.

Rank upon rank they manned the bridge barriers; they swarmed over the
pinnacles and in the hollows of the island's ragged outer lip; the
domed castle was a hive of them, if I may mix my metaphors--and the
rocks and gardens that surrounded the abode glittered with them.

"Now," said the handmaiden, "there's nothing else we can do--save
wait."

She led us out through her bower and up the little path that ran to
the embrasure.

Through the quiet came a sound, a sighing, a half-mournful whispering
that beat about us and fled away.

"They come!" cried Lakla, the light of battle in her eyes. Larry drew
her to him, raised her in his arms, kissed her.

"A woman!" acclaimed the O'Keefe. "A real woman--and mine!"

With the cry of the Portal there was movement among the _Akka_, the
glint of moving spears, flash of metal-tipped clubs, rattle of horny
spurs, rumblings of battle-cries.

And we waited--waited it seemed interminably, gaze fastened upon the
low wall across the cavern mouth. Suddenly I remembered the c