But cries were of no avail, nor prayers, nor struggles, nor even the shouts, and trumpet blasts, and torches of the legionaries from the camp, who hoped thus to scare the bloodthirsty brutes from their living prey, of friend and foe, real comrade and false traitor. It was all vain, and ere long to the long-drawn howls and fierce snarls of the hungry wolves, battening upon their horrid meal, were added the flapping wings and croaking cries of innumerable night birds flocking to the carnage; and these were blended still with the sharp outcries, and faint murmurs, that told how keener than the mortal sword were the beak and talon, the fang and claw, of the wild beast and the carrion fowl. Such, conquerors, such a thing is glory! That frost wind, among others awakened Paullus to new life, and new horrors. Though gashed and weak from loss of blood, none of his wounds were mortal, and yet he felt that, unaided, he must die there, past doubt, even if spared by the rending beak, and lacerating talon. As he raised himself slowly to a sitting posture, and was feeling about for his sword, which had fallen from his grasp as he fainted, he heard his name called feebly by some one near him. "Who calls Arvina?" he replied faintly. "I am here." "I, Caius Pansa," answered the voice; it was that of the old legionary horseman, who had predicted so confidently the fall of Catiline by the hand of Paullus. "I feared thou wert dead." "We shall both be dead soon, Caius Pansa," replied the young man. "Hark! to those wolves! It makes my very flesh creep on my bones! They are sweeping this way, too." "No! no! cheer up, brave heart," replied the veteran. "We will not die this bout. By Hercules! only crawl to me, thou. My thigh is broken, and I cannot stir. I have wine here; a warming draught, in a good leather bottle. Trust to old Caius for campaigning! I have life enough in me to beat off these howling furies. Come, Paullus; come, brave youth. We will share the wine! You shall not die this time. I saw you kill that dog—I knew that you would kill him. Courage, I say, crawl hitherward." Cheered by the friendly voice, the wounded youth crept feebly and with sore anguish to the old trooper’s side, and shared his generously proffered cup; and, animated by the draught, and deriving fresh courage from his praises, endured the horrors of that awful night, until the day breaking in the east scared the foul beasts and night birds to their obscene haunts in the mountain peaks and caverns. Many times the gory wings had flapped nigh to them, and the fierce wolf-howls had come within ten feet of where they sat, half recumbent, propped on a pile of dead, but still their united voices and the defensive show which they assumed drove off the savages, and now daylight and new hopes dawned together, and rescue was at hand and certain.