Darius stood staring about and leaning on his bow. Nergal, pierced to the heart, lay twitching, though life was fled. The horses were struggling in their last agony. Belshazzar was trying to stagger to his feet. How long it had seemed since the bull burst upon them! King and envoy looked upon one another. Darius saw Belshazzar strive twice to speak, but the words thickened in his throat. Then the king’s eye lit on Idina, and the royal wrath blew out on him:— “Verily, as I am lord of Babylon, you shall be impaled! Why not rescue sooner?” “Lord,” replied the other, losing his wits as he trembled, “it was as you ordered. When the prince was confronting the auroch, I was to unleash Nergal—” The words were like fire upon dry straw; for the king had forgotten all else in the thought of his own danger. “Nergal? By the Maskim, what is lying there on the ground? A lion?” “Yes, your Majesty,” said Darius, very coldly. “When Idina unleashed him, while they stood behind me in the thicket, he forgot the auroch to spring at me. His claws have torn my dress. I prefer the auroch, my king. _He_, at least, charges fairly and face to face.” The king did not risk himself to reply to Darius, but, turning to Idina, declared icily: “Fellow, for your cursed folly this day, I swear by every god of Babylon, you shall be beaten to death.” Then to Darius, in a tone equally icy: “Persian, you have saved my life. Ask what reward you will.” “I ask nothing,” replied the other, haughtily, “nothing but this—to meet no more of the king’s tamed lions.” Before Belshazzar could answer, the foresters and beaters were all around them. The king and envoy spoke not a word to each other, while the gaping hunters cried out at the hugeness of the slain auroch, and loudly lamented their master’s misfortune. There were more wailings over the dead lion. “The king’s trust in these beasts is misplaced,” commented Darius, dryly; “Nergal was no less dangerous than the auroch.” The Babylonians who were wise looked at one another slyly. The Persians following Darius soon arrived at a tearing gallop, cursing a forester who had said he was leading them close behind the prince, but only brought them to a halt in a matted jungle. Belshazzar had to be lifted, and carried back to the tents. His ankle was hurt, not dangerously, but for the while he could enjoy no more hunting. He seemed in no slight pain, and his body-servants were rejoiced when he contented himself with ordering Idina’s tongue to be cut out, before the luckless “master of the hounds” was flogged to death, and did not command the execution of any others. Between Belshazzar and Darius there did not pass one syllable for a very long time. A messenger had come post-haste from Babylon. “Urgent despatches,” he announced, “from the chief priest to his Majesty.” That afternoon, accordingly, after Idina had passed beyond the reach of the royal wrath, the whole company returned with speed to the capital.