tering iron-pointed pickaxes, they looked like infernal
spirits sent by the Cabiric gods of Carthage for the destruction of the
city. Stubborn and tenacious in their work of destruction, they growled
and picked, insensible to the blows which fell from above.

The beleaguered people, infuriated by this audacity, scorned the
Balearic slingers and archers who from a distance aimed over the
merlons, and stepping into the crenels they cast down missiles and
stones which, falling vertically, never failed to claim their victims.
The Africans tumbled over with broken heads or crushed backs; arms and
legs snapped like reeds beneath the weight of the stones, and more than
one assailant was pinned to the ground by a dart which passed through
his back. Over the palpitating bodies, the mangled flesh, the blood
mixed with the clay from the walls, rushed fresh assailants, grasping
the pickaxes from the hands of the dying, and taking up the work of
destruction, pounding on the wall, beating it furiously as if it were an
enemy standing before them. Africans, Celtiberians, Gauls, men of all
colors and races crowded together, each cursing in his own language,
frothing at the mouth with fury, with death hovering above them every
instant, and surrounded by a din of howls and lamentations. Tormented by
falling stones and blazing phalarics which set fire to their clothing
and clung to their naked flesh, roasting them until they writhed in
agony, they rushed to the river like animated torches.

Now a block in the wall was giving way! Now it rolled out of place! The
most important thing was to remove the first; after it the others would
follow. The besiegers burst into exclamations of savage joy; they heard
Hannibal's voice encouraging them; but before raising their heads to
rest a moment, a deafening howl arose among them. It was raining, but
raining fiery, infernal drops which penetrated the bodies of the men
like interminable knives. Up there on the walls a fire was smoking. The
merchants were melting the great ingots of silver from their vaults,
pouring the molten metal like a rain of death upon those who dared
destroy the city walls.

The assailants fell back, roaring with fury, and sought refuge behind
the mantelets. Hannibal raised his sword, striving with his blows to
force them back to work, but in vain he exhorted them, haranguing of
victory and of the necessity of destroying the wall; his soldiers
retreated without turning their ba