eyes on the lofty Acropolis,
where the roofs glistened in the sun.

"Father Hercules!" he murmured bitterly. "Why do you abandon your
people?"

His enormous head raised a cloud of dust as it struck the ground.
Hannibal bent over it and with his sword began to hew the robust neck,
obliged to strike many blows to sever the network of corded tendons and
stubborn muscles, which seemed to blunt the edge of the blade.

A cloud of arrows began to plow the ground roundabout Hannibal.

The chieftain removed his helmet, loosing his mass of curling hair; he
grasped the head of Theron by its gory mane, and placing one foot in the
attitude of conqueror upon the body of the priest, he showed it to the
people on the walls.

He was magnificent with his sword in his right hand and holding out his
other arm which sustained the head of the giant. The dark integument of
his eyes, brilliant as the metal disks which hung from his ears, gleamed
with pride and icy hate.

The Saguntines recognized the victor, and wails of surprise and peals of
fury thundered along the wall.

"Hannibal! It is Hannibal!"

He still stood motionless, like a statue of victory, proudly defying the
enemy, heedless of the storm of projectiles whizzing around him, until
suddenly he dropped the head of Theron and sank to his knees, letting
fall his sword.

Mopsus the bowman had shot an arrow through his leg.

From the walls all beheld how, in an outburst of angry pain he tore out
the arrow-shaft, broke it into splinters, and flung them away. Then they
saw no more. A host of the besieging army rushed forward and covered
him, and his archers and slingers began to shoot against the
battlements.

Actaeon, fatigued by the recent sally, and hidden behind a merlon,
watched what was taking place around Hannibal, paying no attention to
the missiles from the slingers, who, infuriated by the wounding of their
chief, hurled a hail of stones against the walls.

He saw Hannibal move away supported by two Carthaginian captains in
golden cuirasses, accompanied by a multitude.

Suddenly the chieftain repelled his helpers, and limped painfully toward
a white, bloodstained object lying on the red earth like a shapeless
rag. He bent over the form, and the Numidians who surrounded it beheld
the terrible Hannibal weep--for the first and last time--pressing his
lips upon the mangled head of the Amazon Asbyte.

CHAPTER VII

THE WALLS OF SAGUNTUM

The wounding of H