of the cliffs, and while it was yet
deep shadow in the valley, its red light struck upon the white cross of
perished wood that towered above the Tree of Doom and on the black
shape of Hokosa crucified to it living. The camp of the king saw and
understood, and from every throat of the thousands of men, women and
children gathered there, went up a roar of rage and horror. The king
lifted his hand, and silence fell upon the place; then he mounted on the
wall and cried aloud:--

"Do you yet live, Hokosa, or is it your body only that those traitors
have fastened to the tree?"

Back came the answer through the clear still air:--

"I live, O King!"

"Endure then a little while," called Nodwengo, "and we will storm the
tree and save you."

"Nay," answered Hokosa, "you cannot save me; yet before I die I shall
see you saved."

Then his words were lost in tumult, for the third day's fighting began.
Desperately the regiments of Hafela rushing across the open space,
hurled themselves upon the fortifications, which, during the night, had
been strengthened by the building of two inner walls. Nor was this all,
for suddenly a cry told those in front that the regiment which Hafela
had despatched across the mountains had travelled up the eastern neck of
the valley, and were attacking the position in their rear. Well was it
for Nodwengo now that he had listened to the counsel of Hokosa, and,
wearied as his soldiers were, had commanded that here also a great wall
should be built.

For two hours the fight raged, and then on either side the foe fell
back, not beaten indeed, though their dead were many, but to rest and
take counsel. But now a new trouble arose: from all the camp of Nodwengo
there went up a moan of pain to Heaven, for since the evening of
yesterday the spring had given out, and they had found no water
wherewith to wet their lips. During the night they bore it; but now the
sun beating down on the black rocks with fearful force scorched them to
the marrow, till they began to wither like fallen leaves, and already
wounded men and children died, while the warriors cut the throats of
oxen and drank their blood.

Hokosa hanging on his cross heard this moaning and divined its cause.

"Be of good comfort, children of Nodwengo," he cried; "for I will pray
that rain be sent upon you." And he lifted his head and prayed.

Now, whether it was by chance or whether his prayer was heard, who can
say? At least it happened that imm