And when the hosts of the barbarians saw them turn, they set
up a mighty shout of laughter that rent the skies, and charged after
them.
But the Wanderer looked back and laughed also. Now he was through the
pass followed by the horsemen, and after them swept the hosts of the
barbarians, like a river that has burst its banks. Still the Wanderer
held his hand till the whole pass was choked with the thousands of the
foe, ay, until the half of the first of the nations had passed into the
narrow plain that lay between the hill and the mouth of the pass. Then,
driving apace up the hill, he stood in his chariot and gave the signal.
Lifting his golden shield on high he flashed it thrice, and all the
horsemen shouted aloud. At the first flash, behold, from behind every
rock and bush of the mountain sides arose the helms of armed men. At the
second flash there came a rattling sound of shaken quivers, and at the
third flash of the golden shield, the air was darkened with the flight
of arrows. As the sea-birds on a lonely isle awake at the cry of the
sailor, and wheel by thousands from their lofty cliffs, so at the third
flash of the Wanderer's shield the arrows of his hidden host rushed
downward on the foe, rattling like hail upon the harness. For awhile
they kept their ranks, and pressed on over the bodies of those that
fell.
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