, laments, and throats,
accompanied by the crash of broken wagons, and the bleating and
bellowing of the terrified herds.

"Sacrifice the baggage! Fire the wagons! Gallop through the herds!"
cried Belisarius, who, sword in hand, now broke a path through the
turmoil with the remnant of his body-guard.

But it was all in vain.

Ever thicker, ever more entangled became the coil; it seemed impossible
to unravel it.

Despair at length tore it asunder.

The cry, "The barbarians are upon us!" sounded from the rear.

And it was no idle rumour.

Hildebad, with his foot-soldiers, had descended to the plain, and his
foremost ranks now attacked the defenceless mass. There ensued a
fearful press to the front; cries of terror--of rage from the
body-guard, who, mindful of their former valour, attempted to fight,
but could not--of anguish from those trampled and crushed; and suddenly
the greater part of the wagons, with their teams and the thousands who
were crowded upon them or jammed between them, fell with a thundering
crash into the ditches on the right and left of the high-road.

So at last the way was open--and impetuously, all discipline at an end,
the stream of fugitives rushed on to the camp.

With loud cries of victory the Gothic foot-soldiers followed, slaying
their easy prey with arrows, slings, and spears; while Belisarius, in
the rear, resisted with difficulty the unceasing attacks of Totila and
the King.

"Help, Belisarius!" cried Aigan, the leader of the Massagetian
mercenaries, as he rode up from among the scattered groups, wiping the
blood from his face. "My countrymen swear they see the devil amidst the
enemy. They will not stand. Help me! Usually they fear you much more
than the devil!"

Grinding his teeth, Belisarius looked across at his right wing, which
was flying in disorder over the fallows, pursued by the Goths.

"O Justinian, my imperial master," he exclaimed, "how badly I keep my
word!"

And, entrusting the further defence of the retreat to the camp to
Demetrius--for the uneven ground upon which they had now entered
embarrassed the pursuit of the enemy's horse---he galloped across
country with Aigan and his mounted guard to join the mercenaries.

"Halt!" he thundered; "halt, you cowardly dogs! Who flies, when
Belisarius stands? I am with you; turn and win!" And he raised his
visor, and showed them his majestic countenance.

And such was the power of his personality, so great the belief in