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.All armed and hurtling pell-mell in a strong, wedge-shaped formation, harpoons and spears tilted forward — and then, even as we threw ourselves to one side to sprawl on the frozen snow, the runners of the leading sledge hurled ice in our faces as it careened past.The six great warriors leaped from it to rush upon us.Now I could see that they carried metal shields — and huge metal tomahawks!Crouching low, advancing with their weapons held high, they closed in a circle backed by a dozen wolves and their riders.From my prone position I could see the.Russian priest's face.His eyes were triumphantly ablaze as, behind the advancing warriors, he peered over the prow of the now stationary sledge.`Zchakow, you dog!' I yelled, firing one quick shot in his direction.I saw splinters fly from the sledge's woodwork near his face, then was forced to turn my weapon to more immediate work.Almost upon us, at point-blank range, was a furclad giant, then a second.My first shot clanged harmlessly off metal, the second took its target full in the throat above the giant's shield.This was the white man, towering at least seventy-eight inches and broad-bodied, screaming bubblingly and clawing at his scarlet throat as he went down in a welter of blood.Far from deterring the remaining five warriors, my shots seemed to spur them on.They leaped forward —Jimmy Franklin's weapon had more penetrating power than the two pistols; crouching, he now slammed round after round into whichever target presented itself.Two of the huge Eskimos and an Indian fell, gaping holes showing in both shields and bodies.A pair of the wolf-warriors, too, reeling bloodily from their mounts.My own and Whitey's weapon both were taking their toll in: support of the rifle, but they were simply not enough.Spears flew; the warriors rushed in; tomahawks flashed —Knocked down, I rolled, and hearing a shrill scream from Tracy bounded back to my' feet.Whitey was down, struggling with the shaft of a spear where it pinned his thigh to the snow.A great arm had snatched my sister aloft to throw her across a broad, fur-draped shoulder.I fired a bullet straight into the heart of the hawkfaced redskin who held her struggling form, heard his scream as he toppled.Tracy fell beside me, winded and sobbing.Whitey had passed out flat on the snow.Jimmy Franklin's hoarse cry rang out, bringing me whirling about in a crouch to seek a new target.None was near.Some way off stood the single remaining giant Eskimo.I aimed at him carefully and pulled the trigger.The hammer fell on an empty chamber.Now I saw that Jimmy deliberately held his fire, noticed that the special force of wolf-warriors had fallen back along with the sole surviving giant.And yet still the Russian priest roared with rage from the safety of the sledge.Without understanding a single word of the language he spoke I knew that he goaded them on, calling them cowards and heaping all kinds of insults upon them.But they were not listening to him, and though they were suddenly fearful I knew that it was neither fear of my pitifully small party nor of our marvellous weapons that stayed them.They stared at something behind us, above us — stared open-mouthed, wide-eyed — fearfully! They lowered their weapons and backed still farther away from us, a lone foot-soldier springing into the saddle of a riderless wolf; and all the time they stared, yes, and they listened.In another second the mad Russian's roaring stopped abruptly as he, too, looked beyond and above us, stared and listened.Now there was an amazing hush as the armies froze in the midst of bloody battle.Slowly we turned our heads, Tracy, Jimmy and I.We looked in the direction of the plateau.PART TWO1 Woman of the Winds(Recorded through the Medium of Juanita Alvarez)Staring at the sky above the low, ominous outcropping of the plateau, I thought: One of two things: either these people have especially sensitive hearing, or they are accustomed to listening for things that I would not normally expect to hear.But then I did hear it; a whirling of high winds, a great tumult in the heavens of.Borea whose physical effects could not for the moment be felt on the plain where I stood.Then, slowly but surely, the whirling became a rushing, a roaring as of a swollen river.Since the battle on the plain first began the skies had been piling up with cloud.Over the plateau the air was dark and writhing, pulsating as if alive; and now, in the centre of this chaos, there formed a circle of madly spinning black cloud like a slice cut through the upper stem of a tornado.Weirdly that disc of frenzied vapour tilted toward us and with quickening pace, independent of all other atmospheric formations, sped across the lowering skies.Such was its independence that all other clouds, large and small, fled to clear a grey path for it that led straight across the heavens! Strangely, seeing that clearing of the sky-path, the stricken wolf-warriors were mortally afraid, while I personally felt great awe but no fear.Neither did the men of the snow-ships nor my own small team, although judging by the gasps of amazement from the latter they were as much in awe of this fantastic sight as I was.Tilting my head up higher, I followed the flight of the disc of whirling cloud along the sky-path until it slowed and stopped almost immediately overhead
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