e
grace. The dark faces under the fezzes were changed by the fervor of
battle; the bared teeth shone out beside the locks of the rifles.
These thin, hard bodies, buffeting her about, formed round her a
rampart from which the blades of steel were answered by blades of flame.

Hamoud rose from the ground at her feet, drawing his dagger. An askari
grunted and sat down with a thud. Then she saw that they were in the
midst of a glade. Among the bushes flitted the pattern of a shield, a
clump of egrets, a whitened visage that seemed to lack a nose. The
askaris' rifles rose, spouted fire, sank down with a click, rose,
crashed again. Silence fell.

The blue veil of smoke rose slowly, all in one piece.

Then, without warning, came the charge.

She became aware of an incredible apparition--a sort of naked
harlequin, magnified by a towering headdress, sailing high, twisting
over his shield like a pole vaulter over a pole, coming down asprawl in
a bed of crimson flowers. Another followed, crouching--or else this
was only a swiftly advancing shield, topped by a tuft of egrets. But
from one side of the shield darted out along, indigo arm, releasing a
spear: an askari leaned against Lilla, coughed, and slipped to the
ground. The advancing shield doubled up, to reveal a warrior who, with
a somersault, a rattle of amulets, a blur of broad polka dots, lay
flat, his face blown away.

More shields were rushing upon the guns, however.

The Mambava, shot through and through, feeling death upon them,
maintained their momentum long enough to drive their weapons through
the khaki jackets, or, at the least, to go down with their teeth buried
in the riflemen's necks, as if that draught of blood might reanimate
them. The wrestlers sank to earth inextricably mingled, a fist perhaps
sticking up above the tangle and slowly relinquishing a broad-bladed
Somali knife.

One remained apart, some dozen yards away, shot through the hips, but
still dragging himself forward. From his open month, yawning black in
the whitened face, issued roars like those of a crippled lion, as with
a lion's courage he still came on, his legs trailing, his body scraping
the soil, a spear in one clenched paw.

Lilla stood paralyzed, alone before that inexorable advance.

For the rampart of askaris had become a circle of dead men, expressing
with their last gestures a deep desire to be remerged with this rich,
dark, ancient earth.

But all at once, as tho