ody first!" cried the little knight.
"Here I am, and here I bide, while God gives me strength to lift a
sword."

"And so say I!" shouted Sir Oliver, throwing his mace high into the air
and catching it again by the handle.

"To your arms, men!" roared Sir Nigel. "Shoot while you may, and then
out sword, and let us live or die together!"

CHAPTER XXXVII. HOW THE WHITE COMPANY CAME TO BE DISBANDED.

Then up rose from the hill in the rugged Cantabrian valley a sound such
as had not been heard in those parts before, nor was again, until
the streams which rippled amid the rocks had been frozen by over four
hundred winters and thawed by as many returning springs. Deep and full
and strong it thundered down the ravine, the fierce battle-call of a
warrior race, the last stern welcome to whoso should join with them in
that world-old game where the stake is death. Thrice it swelled forth
and thrice it sank away, echoing and reverberating amidst the crags.
Then, with set faces, the Company rose up among the storm of stones,
and looked down upon the thousands who sped swiftly up the slope against
them. Horse and spear had been set aside, but on foot, with sword and
battle-axe, their broad shields slung in front of them, the chivalry of
Spain rushed to the attack.

And now arose a struggle so fell, so long, so evenly sustained,
that even now the memory of it is handed down amongst the Cantabrian
mountaineers and the ill-omened knoll is still pointed out by fathers
to their children as the "Altura de los Inglesos," where the men from
across the sea fought the great fight with the knights of the south. The
last arrow was quickly shot, nor could the slingers hurl their stones,
so close were friend and foe. From side to side stretched the thin line
of the English, lightly armed and quick-footed, while against it stormed
and raged the pressing throng of fiery Spaniards and of gallant Bretons.
The clink of crossing sword-blades, the dull thudding of heavy blows,
the panting and gasping of weary and wounded men, all rose together in
a wild, long-drawn note, which swelled upwards to the ears of the
wondering peasants who looked down from the edges of the cliffs upon the
swaying turmoil of the battle beneath them. Back and forward reeled the
leopard banner, now borne up the slope by the rush and weight of the
onslaught, now pushing downwards again as Sir Nigel, Burley, and Black
Simon with their veteran men-at arms, flung themselves