fall, till the defenders of
the bridge had a bulwark of the slain in their front.

[Illustration: HORATIUS KEEPING THE BRIDGE.]

And now the bridge creaked and groaned as the axes kept up their lively
play, the ring of steel finding its chorus in the cheering shouts of the
Romans on the bank.

"Back! back!" cried the axemen. "It will be down in a minute more; back
for your lives!"

"Back!" cried Horatius to his comrades, and they hastily retreated; but
he stood unmoving, still boldly facing the foe.

"Fly! It is about to fall!" was the shout.

"Let it," cried Horatius, without yielding a step.

And there he stood alone, defying the whole army of the Etruscans. From
a distance they showered their javelins on him, but he caught them on
his shield and stood unhurt. Furious that they should be kept from their
prey by a single man, they gathered to rush upon him and drive him from
his post by main force; but just then the creaking beams gave way, and
the half of the bridge behind him fell with a mighty crash into the
stream below.

The Etruscans paused in their course at this crashing fall, and gazed,
not without admiration, at the stalwart champion who had stayed an army
in its victorious career. He was theirs now; he could not escape; his
life should pay the penalty for their failure.

But Horatius had no such thought. He looked down on the stream, and
prayed to the god of the river, "O Father Tiber, I pray thee to receive
these arms and me who bear them, and to let thy waters befriend and
save me."

Then, with a quick spring, he plunged, heavy with armor, into the
swift-flowing stream, and struck out boldly for the shore. The foemen
rushed upon the bridge and poured their darts thick about him; yet none
struck him, and he swam safely to the shore, where his waiting friends
drew him in triumph from the stream.

For this grand deed of heroism the Romans set up a statue to Horatius in
the comitium, and gave him in reward as much land as he could drive his
plough round in the space of a whole day. Such deeds cannot be fitly
told in halting prose, and Lord Macaulay, in his "Lays of Ancient Rome,"
has most ably and picturesquely told

"How well Horatius kept the bridge
In the brave days of old."

But though Rome was saved from capture by assault, the war was not
ended, and other deeds of Roman heroism were to be done. Porsenna
pressed the siege of the city so closely that hunger became his ally,
and the