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The man fell, and then somehow the knife was wrenched from his
hand, leaving him defenceless, and I thought the end had come. But no;
with a desperate effort he broke loose from them, seized the body of the
man he had just slain, and lifting it high in the air hurled it right at
the mob of his assailants, so that the shock and weight of it swept
some five or six of them to the earth. But in a minute they were all up
again, except one, whose skull was smashed, and had once more fastened
upon him. And then slowly, and with infinite labour and struggling,
the wolves bore the lion down. Once even then he recovered himself, and
felled an Amahagger with his fist, but it was more than man could do to
hold his own for long against so many, and at last he came crashing down
upon the rock floor, falling as an oak falls, and bearing with him to
the earth all those who clung about him. They gripped him by his arms
and legs, and then cleared off his body.
"A spear," cried a voice--"a spear to cut his throat, and a vessel to
catch his blood.


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