Soon the wall was down again, and through the doorway, followed
by a crowd of rescuers, staggered old Umslopogaas, an awful and,
in a way, a glorious figure. The man was a mass of wounds, and
a glance at his wild eye told me that he was dying. The 'keshla'
gum-ring upon his head was severed in two places by sword-cuts,
one just over the curious hole in his skull, and the blood poured
down his face from the gashes. Also on the right side of his
neck was a stab from a spear, inflicted by Agon; there was a
deep cut on his left arm just below where the mail shirt-sleeve
stopped, and on the right side of his body the armour was severed
by a gash six inches long, where Nasta's mighty sword had bitten
through it and deep into its wearer's vitals.
On, axe in hand, he staggered, that dreadful-looking, splendid
savage, and the ladies forgot to turn faint at the scene of blood,
and cheered him, as well they might, but he never stayed or heeded.
With outstretched arms and tottering gait he pursued his way,
followed by us all along the broad shell-strewn walk that ran
through the courtyard, past the spot where the blocks of marble
lay, through the round arched doorway and the thick curtains
that hung within it, down the short passage and into the great
hall, which was now filling with hastily-armed men, who poured
through the side entrance.
Pages:
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406