Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction, English; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
At half-past eight in the morning we were driven back over the open
ground to our last entrenchment, a very strong one just outside of the
eastern gate of the temple which, it will be remembered, was set in a
tunnel pierced through the natural lava rock. Thrice did the Black
Kendah come on and thrice we beat them off, till the ditch in front of
the wall was almost full of fallen. As fast as they climbed to the top
of it the White Kendah thrust them through with their long spears, or
we shot them with our rifles, the nature of the ground being such that
only a direct frontal attack was possible.
In the end they drew back sullenly, having, as we hoped, given up the
assault. As it turned out, this was not so. They were only resting and
waiting for the arrival of their reserve. It came up shouting and
singing a war-song, two thousand strong or more, and presently once
more they charged like a flood of water. We beat them back. They
reformed and charged a second time and we beat them back.
Then they took another counsel. Standing among the dead and dying at
the base of the wall, which was built of loose stones and earth, where
we could not easily get at them because of the showers of spears which
were rained at anyone who showed himself, they began to undermine it,
levering out the bottom stones with stakes and battering them with
poles.
In five minutes a breach appeared, through which they poured
tumultuously. It was hopeless to withstand that onslaught of so vast a
number. Fighting desperately, we were driven down the tunnel and
through the doors that were opened to us, into the first court of the
temple. By furious efforts we managed to close these doors and block
them with stones and earth. But this did not avail us long, for,
bringing brushwood and dry grass, they built a fire against them that
soon caught the thick cedar wood of which they were made.
While they burned we consulted together. Further retreat seemed
impossible, since the second court of the temple, save for a narrow
passage, was filled with corn which allowed no room for fighting, while
behind it were gathered all the women and children, more than two
thousand of them. Here, or nowhere, we must make our stand and conquer
or die. Up to this time, compared with what which we had inflicted upon
the Black Kendah, of whom a couple of thousand or more had fallen, our
loss was comparatively slight, say two hundred killed and as many more
wounded. Most of such of the latter as could not walk we had managed to
carry into the first court of the temple, laying them close against the
cloister walls, whence they watched us in a grisly ring.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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