ld be laid dead or dying in the dust. It
could not be otherwise; they were being condemned, with that wise
recklessness of human life which marks the great general, and often
saves his forces and attains his ends, to certain slaughter, in order
to give their cause and the remainder of the army a chance of success.
They were foredoomed to die, and they knew the truth. It was to be
their task to engage regiment after regiment of Twala's army on the
narrow strip of green beneath us, till they were exterminated or till
the wings found a favourable opportunity for their onslaught. And yet
they never hesitated, nor could I detect a sign of fear upon the face
of a single warrior. There they were--going to certain death, about to
quit the blessed light of day for ever, and yet able to contemplate
their doom without a tremor. Even at that moment I could not help
contrasting their state of mind with my own, which was far from
comfortable, and breathing a sigh of envy and admiration. Never before
had I seen such an absolute devotion to the idea of duty, and such a
complete indifference to its bitter fruits.

"Behold your king!" ended old Infadoos, pointing to Ignosi; "go fight
and fall for him, as is the duty of brave men, and cursed and shameful
for ever be the name of him who shrinks from death for his king, or who
turns his back to the foe. Behold your king, chiefs, captains, and
soldiers! Now do your homage to the sacred Snake, and then follow on,
that Incubu and I may show you a road to the heart of Twala's host."

There was a moment's pause, then suddenly a murmur arose from the
serried phalanxes before us, a sound like the distant whisper of the
sea, caused by the gentle tapping of the handles of six thousand spears
against their holders' shields. Slowly it swelled, till its growing
volume deepened and widened into a roar of rolling noise, that echoed
like thunder against the mountains, and filled the air with heavy waves
of sound. Then it decreased, and by faint degrees died away into
nothing, and suddenly out crashed the royal salute.

Ignosi, I thought to myself, might well be a proud man that day, for no
Roman emperor ever had such a salutation from gladiators "about to die."

Ignosi acknowledged this magnificent act of homage by lifting his
battle-axe, and then the Greys filed off in a triple-line formation,
each line containing about one thousand fighting men, exclusive of
officers. When the last companies had adva