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War-cries and trumpet-calls rang and echoed through the Serapeum. The battle was now a hand-to-hand fight; the besiegers had surmounted the barricade and stood face to face with the heathen. Herse saw them coming; she snatched the dart from her husband's wound, and fired by hatred and a wild thirst for vengeance, she rushed upon the besiegers with frantic and helpless fury, cursing them loudly.

A wild, chaotic, sanguinary scene. Here, bishop and baron contend, centuries long, murdering human creatures by ten thousands for an acre or two of swampy pasture; there, doughty families, hugging old musty quarrels to their heart, buffet each other from generation to generation; thus they go on, raging and wrestling among themselves, with all the world, shrieking insane war-cries which no human soul ever understood red caps and black, white hoods and grey, Hooks and Kabbeljaws, dealing destruction, building castles and burning them, tilting at tourneys, stealing bullocks, roasting Jews, robbing the highways, crusading now upon Syrian sands against Paynim dogs, now in Frisian quagmires against Albigenses, Stedingers, and other heretics plunging about in blood and fire, repenting, at idle times, and paying their passage through, purgatory with large slices of ill-gotten gains placed in the ever-extended dead-hand of the Church; acting, on the whole, according to their kind, and so getting themselves civilized or exterminated, it matters little which.

It was immaterial to the sloppier journalists that the drill-sergeant did not do anything of the sort ... and so the legend grew, of a great Army going into battle, not with the old English war-cries on their lips or with new cries as noble, but with "Bloody!" for their watch-word, and "Who were you With Last Night!" for their war-song....

The sight of his weapons kept him in a perpetual state of furious agitation. His rifles, his arrows and his spears rang out war-cries. In the branches of the baobab the wind whispered enticingly of great voyages.

Oh, mother, why is he not here to why should he send another? And that one he spoke our dear language, mother; surely he is not not as Ixtli?" "No; he was of our own people, child, and I can hardly conceive how he came hither, save that Ixtli must have acted as guide." "And those awful warriors!" shivering as the war-cries followed the muffled roar of the great drum. "If found, he will be slain!

The two bodies of cavalry met with a tremendous shock, raising their respective war-cries, "Denis Mount Joye!" and "St. George Guyenne!" Lances were shivered, and horses and men rolled over, but the German horse was borne down in every direction by the charge of the English chivalry. The Counts of Nassau and Saarbruck were taken, and the rest driven down the hill in utter confusion.

On reaching these, they were obliged to stand at bay, and, being greatly outnumbered, took shelter inside of their enclosure. Of course their flocks and herds, being most of them outside, were at once driven away by a small party of the assailants, while the larger proportion, with savage yells and war-cries, made a furious attack on their position.

The Moslem galleys were now close upon him, although as yet out of gun-shot; around him they wheeled and circled like a flight of great sea-birds, their ferocious crews shouting their war-cries calling upon Allah and the Prophet to give them the victory for which they craved; many a brave Venetian who heard for the first time the name of Barbarossa shouted in battle must have braced himself for the coming conflict, knowing all that was imported by that terrible name.

He also told him of the kind of people, of how many fine men, as I might say, left their honorable positions and were striving with unheard-of eagerness to join this expedition. He asked if they were carrying arms, packs, what insignia of this new pilgrimage they were wearing, and finally, what war-cries they called out in battle.

A tumult of war-cries, the vibrating clang of gongs, the deep snoring of drums, yells of rage, crashes of volley-firing, made an awful din, in which Brown sat confounded but steady at the tiller, working himself into a fury of hate and rage against those people who dared to defend themselves.