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"There was a clever old soldier who was not to be done that way; when he saw he could not get at his Arab, he slipped off his horse before you could say `knife, parried his spear-thrust, ran him through the body, and was up again like a shot. But it was heart-breaking business altogether; you should have seen the horses afterwards, cut about awfully, poor things; and we lost heavily in men too.
The first thing that I saw was Mackenzie, seated on a stone with a handkerchief twisted round his thigh, from which he was bleeding freely, having, indeed, received a spear-thrust that passed right through it, and still holding in his hand his favourite carving knife now bent nearly double, from which I gathered that he had been successful in his rough and tumble with the Elmoran.
And of this we had proof; for as we passed through the guard-room we found there a moaning wretch, belonging to the Priest Captain's party, in whose chest was a great hole made by a spear-thrust and at a sign from Tizoc one of our men stepped aside, and with a blow of his heavy sword coolly mashed in the wounded man's skull, and so finished him.
"Now that you are about to die the most unthinkably horrid death that it is given a white man to die let this word of the plight of your wife add to the torments that you must suffer before the last savage spear-thrust releases you from your torture." The dance had commenced now, and the yells of the circling warriors drowned Rokoff's further attempts to distress his victim.
'Well? she said, delivering the word like a spear-thrust, with the full weight of a body behind it. 'I've brought Harvey back at last, I replied. 'Here he is. But it was at me she looked, not at the dog who had cast himself at her feet looked as though she would have fished my soul out of my breast on the instant. 'Wha what did you think of him? What did you make of him? she panted.
As in a dream, I watched the giant Jodd cut down a gorgeous captain, the axe shearing through his golden armour as though it were but silk. I watched a comrade of my own fall beneath a spear-thrust. I gazed at the face of Heliodore, who stared wide-eyed at the red scene, and at the white-lipped Irene, who was clinging to my arm.
He tried to laugh, as he glanced down at the wounded arm, which, ligatured about the spear-thrust with a thong, and supported by a rawhide sling, looked strangely blue and swollen. "Hurt me? Nonsense! I'll be fine and dandy in no time. The only trouble is, I'm not much good as a fighter this way. Southpaw, you see. Can't shoot worth a a cent, you know, with my left. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind."
+885+. Magic is a science of sequences, but only of sequences supposed not to be explicable from ordinary experience. When the savage puts his hand into the fire or receives a spear-thrust in his body he recognizes visible and familiar causes of pain, and accepts the situation as a fact of life, calling for no further explanation.
"At home, disruption and savagery. Outside, the Horde the Horde now pressing onward after me!" He sat down beside the bed and forced himself to think. Weak as he was and wounded with a spear-thrust in the lower leg as well as a jagged cut across the breast, he felt that he might still keep strength enough for a few hours more of toil. Of a sudden he realized an over-powering thirst.
When the Spartans under Epitadas saw their advanced guard cut up, and the Athenians marching against them, they drew up in order, and tried to come within spear-thrust of the enemy; but they were unable to effect their purpose, for the Athenian hoplites kept their ground, and at the same moment they themselves were assailed on both flanks and in the rear by a cloud of light infantry.
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