barking of the war dogs, still chained about the cars.
Husbanding my ebbing strength, I no longer sought to fight, I strove
only to reach the place where my family was in danger. Suddenly my
horse, which had already sustained several wounds, received on the flank
his death blow. The animal stumbled and rolled upon me. My leg and
thigh, pierced with two lance thrusts, were caught as in a vise between
the ground and the dead weight of my fallen steed. In vain I struggled
to disengage myself. One of my comrades who, at the time of my fall, was
following me, ran against the fallen horse. Steed and rider tumbled over
the obstacle, and were instantly despatched by the blows of the
legionaries. Our resistance became desperate. Corpse upon corpse piled
up, both on top of and around me. More and more enfeebled by the loss of
blood, overcome by the pains in my limbs, bruised under that heap of
dead and dying, unable to make a motion, all sense left me; my eyes
closed. Recalled to myself a moment later by the violent throbbing of my
wounds, I opened my eyes again. The sight which met them at first made
me believe I was seized with one of those frightful nightmares from
which escape is vain. It was the horrible reality.

Twenty paces from me I saw the car in which my mother, Henory my wife,
Martha the wife of Mikael, their children, and several young women and
girls of the family had taken refuge. Several men of our kindred and
tribe, who had run like myself to the cars, were defending them against
the Romans. Among the defenders I saw the two _saldunes_, fastened to
each other by the iron chain, the symbol of their pledge of brotherhood.
Both were young, beautiful and valiant. Their clothes were in tatters,
their heads and chests naked and bloody. But their eyes flashed fire,
and a scornful smile played on their lips, as, armed only with their
staffs, they fearlessly fought the Roman legionaries sheathed in iron,
and the Cretans clad in jackets and thigh-pieces of leather. The large
dogs of war, shortly unchained, leaped at the throats of their
assailants, often bearing them over backwards with their furious dashes.
Their terrible jaws not being able to pierce either helmet or
breastplate, they devoured the faces of their victims, killing without
once letting go their grips. The Cretan archers, almost without
defensive armor, were snatched by the legs, arms, shoulders, anywhere.
Each bite of these savage dogs carried away a chunk o