As for him, give him a heavy spear, with the blade well set in
thongs, or a heavy ax, with the head well clinched in the sinew-bound
wooden haft. There was rarely miss or failure to the spear-thrust or the
ax-stroke. And now, in proof of the soundness of his old-fashioned
belief, he staked ruggedly his life. There were few spears left. There
were only axes on either side. And there stood old Hilltop upon the
barrier, while beside him and all across stood men as brave if not quite
as sturdy or as famous.
In the rear of the line, noisy, sometimes fierce and sometimes weeping,
were the women, whose skill was only a little less than that of the males
and who were even more ruthless in all feeling toward the enemy. And
still easily chief among these, conspicuous by her noisy and uncaring
demeanor of mingled alarm and vengefulness, was the raging Moonface. She
rushed up close beside her husband's defending group and still hurled
stones and hurled them most effectively. They went as if from a catapult,
and more than one bone or head was broken that day by those missiles from
the arm of this squat savage wife and mother. But the men below were
outnumbering and brave, and now, maddened by different emotions, the lust
of conquest, the murderous anger over slain companions and, underlying
all, the thought of ownership of this fair and warm and safe place of
home, were resolute in their attack.
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