And again and again did Rabyah charge them with spear and sword, scattering them even as a hawk scattereth quails. Only Nubaishah, the son of Habib, fled not, but yielded way cunningly to let him pass, and always thereafter circled menacing about him, like a vulture sweeping close to the sand. And it happened at last that as Rabyah bore down upon a man of Sulaim, Nubaishah suddenly circled by him rapidly as a whirling wind, and thrust with his lance as he whirled, and the lance-blade burst its way through Rabyah's shirt of Persian mail and into his entrails. And Nubaishah laughed, and drew back the blade of his wet spear between his stallion's ears, and smelled the odor of the blood upon it, and shouted, 'Thou hast thy death-wound, O Rabyah!' For never had swarthy Nubaishah lifted his spear against a man to slay him and failed in his purpose--so keen his eye, so subtle his hand. But Rabyah, seeking to deceive him for the women's sake, shouted back with all the deep power of his voice, 'Thou liest in thy throat, Nubaishah!' And Nubaishah laughed again, and shook his head in scorn, and circled away among his men. Then Rabyah rode after the women swiftly, sitting firm as a tower despite his pain; and even at the Pass of Ghazal he came up with his mother, as he had promised, and he said to her, 'O mother, give me to drink! I have received my death-wound.' And Oumm Saiyar looked upon the wound--a ghastly wound, that gaped even as the mouth of a camel with divided lip. But she was of the race of eagles, and she answered him, tearlessly, 'Nay, my son, for if I give thee to drink now thou diest, and we would then be taken and put to shame, and while even one drop of blood lives in thy veins, O son of mine, thy duty remains to stand in defence of the weakness of woman and the honor of thy people. Turn back, son of Mokaddem! Turn and smite them while thy strength lasts, and bear the thirst for thy mother's sake; yet suffer me first to bind up thy wound.' And while she strove to bind it with her veil--for that was all she had to bind it with--Rabyah murmured to her, 'O mother, the sons of Firaz have indeed lost him they were wont to call their battle-hawk--their deep-diving hawk of battle--him they held precious unto them as fire-shining gold. They have lost their darling horseman, O mother!'