And Pandion held on for the number of seconds necessary to throw the net over the animal’s head. The horns protruded through the mesh of the net and Pandion was filled with wild joy, but instantly he became blind to his surroundings and lost consciousness. Something cracked, a heavy weight fell on him and everything went dark before his eyes.
In the heat of battle Pandion had not noticed that Kidogo had again caught hold of the animal’s tail and that ten Libyans and six Amu had seized the net he had flung over the animal’s head. In his effort to throw off ‘the people the rhinoceros had rolled over on to one side breaking the arm and collar-bone of the young Hellene who fell heavily to the ground. The people took immediate advantage of the monster’s fall. With loud shouts the slaves fell on the rhinoceros, a second net enveloped its head and two nooses were made fast on a hind-leg and one on a foreleg.. The animal’s snorting developed into a deep roar; it rolled over on to the left side, then on to its back, crushing people’s bones under its heavy weight. It seemed that there was no limit to the animal’s strength. Six times it rose to its feet, got mixed up in the ropes and rolled over on to its back again, killing more than fifty men. Still the ropes and thongs on its legs increased in number and the hunters drew’ the strong nooses tight. Three nets enveloped the animal from head to foot. Soon a crowd of people, bleeding, sweating and covered in dirt, lay on the madly struggling rhinoceros. The animal’s hide, covered with human blood, ‘had become slippery, the men’s crooked fingers would not hold, but still the ropes were drawn tighter and tighter. Even those who had been crushed by the animal’s heavy weight in its last effort to free itself clung to the ropes with the rigid grip of death. ‘
The hunters came up to the recumbent animal with fresh ropes, bound all four tree-like legs and tied its head to its forelegs by ropes passed behind the horn.
The terrible battle was over.
The panic-stricken people gradually came to their senses; the muscles of their lacerated bodies began to twitch as though they were in a fever and black patches floated before their unseeing eyes.
At last the frantically beating hearts grew calmer; here and there sighs of relief were to be heard, for the people had begun to realize that death had passed them by. Cavius, covered with bloody mud, rose staggering to his feet; Kidogo, trembling all over, but already smiling, came up to him. The smile, however, immediately left the Negro’s greying face when he found that Pandion was not amongst the living.
Seventy-three men had survived, the remainder had either been killed or had received mortal wounds. The Etruscan and Kidogo sought for Pandion amongst the dead in the down-trodden grass, found his body and carried it into the shade. Cavius examined him carefully but could not find any mortal injuries. Remdus was dead; the fiery leader of the Amu had also perished and the brave Libyan Akhmi, his chest crushed, lay dying.
While the slaves were counting their losses and carrying the dying to the shade of the trees, the soldiers brought a huge wooden platform from the river — the bottom of the cage that had been prepared for the rhinoceros; they rolled the body of the bound monster on to it and dragged it to the river on rollers.
Cavius went up to the Lord of the Hunt.
“Order them to help us carry away the wounded,” he said, pointing to the soldiers.
“What do you want to do with them?” asked the Lord of the Hunt, looking with involuntary admiration at the mighty Etruscan, smeared with blood and dust, whose face was all stern grief.
“We’ll take them back down the river: perhaps some of them will live as far as Tha-Quem and its skilled physicians,” answered Cavius, gloomily.
“Who told you that you will return to Tha-Quem?” the Lord of the Hunt interrupted him.
The Etruscan shuddered and stepped back a pace.
“Was the Prince of the South lying to us, then? Are we not free?” shouted Cavius.
“No, the Prince did not lie to you, despised one — you are free!” With these words the Lord of the Hunt held but a small papyrus scroll to the Etruscan. “Here’s his ordinance.”
With great care Cavius took the precious document that made free men of the slaves…
“If that’s so, then why…” he began.
“Be silent,” snapped the Lord of the Hunt haughtily, “and listen to me. You’re free here,” the Lord of the Hunt stressed the last word. “You may go wherever you please — there, there and there,” his hand pointed to the west, east and south, “but not to Tha-Quem or to Nub that is under our rule. If you disobey you’ll again become slaves. I presume,” he added in brutal tones, “that when you’ve thought matters over you’ll return and fall to the feet of our ruler and suffer what fate has predestined for you as servants of the Chosen ‘People of the Black Land.”
Cavius took two steps forward. His eyes gleamed. He stretched out his hand to one of the soldiers who was looking in perplexity at the Lord of the Hunt, and with a bold gesture pulled the short sword from his belt. The Etruscan raised the flashing weapon point upwards, kissed it and spoke quickly in his own language, which nobody could understand.
“I swear by the Supreme God of Lightning, I swear by the God of Death whose name I bear, that despite all the evil deeds of this accursed people I will return alive to the land of my birth. I swear that from this hour I shall not rest until I sail to the shores of Tha-Quem with a strong army to take payment in full for all the evil that has been done.”
Cavius waved his hand over the field where the bodies lay scattered and then with great force hurled the sword to his feet. The sword sank deep into the earth. The Etruscan turned sharply round and walked off towards his comrades but suddenly turned back.
“I ask you only one thing,” he said to the Lord of the Hunt who was going off with the last of the soldiers. “Order them to leave us a few spears, knives and bows. We have to protect our wounded.”
The Lord of the Hunt nodded his head without speaking and disappeared behind the bushes, making his way to the river by the broad path made by the platform on which the rhinoceros had been dragged away.
Cavius told his comrades what had been said. Cries of wrath, muttered curses and helpless threats mingled with the plaintive moans of the dying.
“We’ll think about what we’re going to do later on,” shouted Cavius. “The first thing we have to decide is what to do with the wounded. It’s a long way to the river, we’re tired and can’t carry them that far. Let us rest a little and then fifty men can go to the river and twenty will remain here on guard — there are many wild beasts about.” Cavius pointed to the spotted backs of hyenas flashing through the long grass, attracted by the smell of blood. Huge birds with long, bare necks circled round the field, landed and then flew off again.
The dry earth, burned by the sun, gave off waves of heat, the network of sunspots under the trees trembled very slightly and the cries of wild doves sounded mournful in the hot silence. The fever of battle had passed, wounds and knocks were beginning to ache, grazed skin began to burn and fester.
The death of Remdus had been a heavy blow to Cavius — the youngster had been the one link with the Etruscan’s distant homeland. Now that link was broken.