I heard Bila Huruma rallying his men by the wall. Then he cried, "Charge!"

His audacity had taken the Kurii by surprise. But, in moments, viciously, Bila Huruma, Kisu, Turgus, Ayari and the askaris had been forced back again.

The situation was hopeless and yet, I think, the Kurii had been taught respect for men.

I saw a Kur leader, quickly and methodically, aligning his beasts. I doubted but what it would take more than one charge by the massed forces of the Kurii. To my surprise I saw the Kur leader, a huge, brown Kur, doubtless from one of the far ships, lift his panga in salute to the black Ubar. Bila Huruma, then, breathing heavily, raised his stabbing spear in his dark and bloody fist. "Askari hodari!" he cried. I shook with emotion. It was much honor he had done the beast, not even human, confronting him. The salute of the Kur commander had been acknowledged and returned. The words Bila Huruma had uttered were of course in the native tongue of Ushindi. One might translate them, in the context, I suppose, as 'Brave Soldier'. A better translation, however, I think, especially since there is no other way to say this in the Ushindi tongue, is doubtless the simpler one, 'Warrior.

"I have it," we heard cry. We looked to the stones at the threshold. There stood Msaliti, an upraised bloody dagger in one hand, and, in the other, held high over his head, on its chain, a dangling ring.

"He has the ring!" I cried.

Msaliti shook the chain over his head. "I have it! I have it!" he cried.

I looked to the couch of Shaba. About it lay dead Kurii and slaughtered askaris. Shaba, coughing, held his chest. The poison ring, the fang ring, had been emptied. Msaliti had awaited his opportunity. He had then fallen upon Shaba. From the wounds I adjudged Shaba had been struck at least four or five times. He had then seized the chain and ring, and run to the threshold. The Kurii were between us and Msaliti.

The Kur commander raised his paw. His lips drew back over his fangs. It was a sign of Kur triumph, or pleasure. Then he swiftly communicated commands to his beasts. Msaliti leaped down from the stones and withdrew from the fortresslike enclosure. The Kurii facing us then, snarling, watching us, not turning their backs, began to withdraw. They obeyed their commander. He had won. He would not now risk more of his beasts. Too, he would wish to use them to guarantee the safe passage of the ring to his prearranged rendezvous, from whence it would be eventually returned to the steel worlds, or, on this planet, used devastatingly against men and Priest-Kings.

I, panga clutched in two hands, lunged after the beasts. Kisu seized me, holding me back. Bila Huruma, too, interposed himself between me and our shaggy adversaries. "No!" cried Kisu. "No!" cried Bila Huruma. "It is madness to follow!" "Stay with us, Tarl!" cried Ayari. Turgus, too, seized an arm. I could not free myself from Kisu and Turgus.

"Release me!" I said.

"You can do nothing now," said Kisu.

"They will destroy the bridge," I said. "We will be prisoners here!"

"Tonight is the full moon," said Ayari. "Tonight, if you wish, you may wade through the fish unharmed. Tomorrow they will have returned to the lake."

"Release me!" I cried.

"You can do nothing now," said Kisu.

I, held, watched the departure of the Kurii. They, obedient to their orders, withdrew. I admired the Kur commander, that he had been able to instill in his fierce beasts such discipline. As they withdrew some dragged with them the fallen bodies of askaris.

Bila Huruma hurried to the side of Shaba.

I shook loose of Turgus and Kisu and ran to the stones at the threshold. As I ascended to their height I saw the floating bridge cut free at our end. It was then dragged to the opposite side and hauled onto the level. Between myself and the beasts there lay the broad, uneasy moat, some forty feet across, stirring with the movements of the crowded fish.

I descended from the stones which had been piled in the threshold by Shaba's men, the better to fortify the walled area.

I looked across the moat at the Kurii. Kisu and Turgus, and Ayari, stood behind me.

On the other side of the moat Msaliti lifted the chain and ring over his head. "I have won!" he cried.

The Kur commander took the chain from him and looped it over his head.

"I have won!" cried Msaliti.

The Kur commander than gave orders to one of his beasts. Msaliti screamed with misery as the animal lifted him high over his head and then threw him into the moat.

Almost instantly Msaliti was on his feet and then he screamed, and fell, and again regained his feet, and fell again. There was a thrashing about him, a churning in the water, and it seemed the water exploded with blood and bubbles. Msaliti, as though moving through mud, howling, waded, through the packed, slippery, voracious bodies. I tore the raider's spear from Kisu and extended it to Msaliti who, screaming, grasped it. We drew him from the water. His feet and legs were gone. We struck tenacious fish from his body. He then lay on the level and we, with strips of cloth, tried to stanch his bleeding.

The Kurii, on the other side of the moat, single file, then padded away.

We fought to save Msaliti. Finally, with tourniquets, we managed to slow, and then stop, the bleeding.

Bila Huruma then stood beside me, on the level near the moat. "Shaba is dead," he said.

Msaliti lifted his hand to the Ubar. "My Ubar," he said.

Bila Huruma looked down at Msaliti sadly. Then he said to his askaris, 'Throw him to the fish."

"My Ubar!" cried Msaliti, and then he was lost in the moat, the fish swarming about him.

I suddenly felt Janice clinging to my arm weeping. There was leather on her throat, and, on her wrists anal ankles were the deep marks of freshly slashed binding fiber. She and the other girls, during the action, had, one by one, been caught by Kurii and put in throat coffle. The coffle had then been dragged to a corner of the fortresslike enclosure. There the girls, without being removed from the coffle, had been thrown on their bellies and bound hand and foot. They had then been left there, left for later, squirming and helpless, tied as fresh meat. An askari, after the withdrawal of the Kurii, had freed them.

"Oh, my master," wept Janice, holding me. "We are alive, my master!"

I looked bitterly across the moat. I had failed. Then I held the girl's head to my shoulder and, as she wept. I considered the fortunes of war.

I saw the narrow column of Kurii disappear among the distant buildings.

I clasped the slave closely to me. "Do not cry, sweet slave," I told her. Then I, too, but in bitterness and misery, shed tears.

54

We Will Leave The Ancient City

"I have examined the maps and notebooks," I said to Bila Huruma.

"Were all recovered?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

We stood now on a broad level. To it led the several flights of broad stairs, ascending from that vast marble landing, with its marble mooring posts, which lies at the western edge of the ancient city, that landing to which we had first come, days ago, after our crossing of the lake. The great building, with its tall columns, some broken, fallen aside, in its ruins, lay behind us. Flanking it, on each side, were the towering figures of stone warriors, their stern gaze facing westward. Shaba's galley, and the three galleys and canoes of Bila Huruma, and our raiders' canoe, which had served us so long and faithfully, could be seen far below us, where they were moored at the landing.

We looked out over the placid, vast lake.

On the level, to one side, we had built a great pyre. Bila Huruma himself, with his own hands, had cast the ashes of Shaba high into the air where the wind would catch them and carry them over the city, and to the jungles beyond. A part of Shaba, thus, would continue his geographer's trek, a bit of white ash blown on the wind, evanescent but obdurate, brief but eternal, something irrevocably implicated in the realities of history and eternity.