Taking his stand, he guarded their retreat as they fled into an orchard surrounded by a strong wall, and Moseilama with them. The Moslem troops, following close, soon swarmed all round the wall, but found no entrance anywhere. [Sidenote: The Garden of Death.]At last Berâa, one of the Twelve,[56] cried, ‘Lift me aloft upon the wall.’ So they lifted him up. For a moment, as he looked on the surging mass below, the hero hesitated; then, boldly leaping down, he beat right and left, until he reached the gate, and threw it open. Like waters pent up, his comrades rushed in; and, as beasts of the forest snared in a trap, so wildly struggled the brave Beni Hanîfa in _the Garden of Death_. Hemmed in by the narrow space, and hampered by the trees, their arms useless from their very numbers, they were hewn down, and perished to a man. The carnage was fearful, for besides the slain within the walls, an equal number were killed on the field, and again an equal number in the flight.[57] [Sidenote: The Beni Hanîfa discomfited, with great slaughter on both sides.]The Moslems, too, despite their splendid victory, had cause to remember the Garden Death and the battle of Yemâma, for their loss was beyond all previous experience. Besides those killed hand to hand in the garden, great numbers fell in the battle when their ranks wavered and gave way. The Refugees from Mecca lost 360 men, and the Citizens of Medîna 300, or nearly 700 in all; while the slaughter amongst the Bedouins, though somewhat less, raised the gross number over 1,200, besides the wounded. And amongst them were nine and thirty chief ‘Companions,’ or men of note, amongst the Prophet’s followers. At Medîna there was hardly a house, whether of Refugees or native Citizens, in which the voice of wailing was not heard.[58] [Sidenote: Moseilama among the slain.] Moseilama was slain by Wahshi, the same negro warrior who, swinging a javelin, after his savage style of warfare, round his head, had on the field of Ohod brought the sainted Hamza to the ground. After the battle Khâlid carried the chief Mojâa, still in chains, over the field to identify the dead. As they passed along the field of battle, turning the bodies over one after another, they came upon a stalwart figure. ‘Look, was this your master?’ said Khâlid. ‘Nay,’ replied Mojâa, ‘this was a nobler and a better man.’ It was the corpse of the brave Mohakkem, who fell covering the retreat, slain by the hand of Abdul Rahman, the Caliph’s son. Then they entered the Garden of Death. Among the heaps of the mangled dead, they stumbled on a body of insignificant mien. ‘This is your man,’ said Mojâa, as he turned it on its side; ‘truly ye have done for him!’ ‘Yea,’ replied Khâlid, ‘or rather it is he which hath done for you, that which he hath done.’ [Sidenote: Truce with the Beni Hanîfa.]