"Come," he said. "We must go southward as quickly as possible. Sergius still walked slowly about, glancing at one corpse after another, until the decurion, at last divining his thought, broke in roughly:—
"Come! The wolves must provide him sepulchre as they will do for better men. What would he have? The she-wolf suckled the twins. Let Hostilius pay the debt by feeding the she-wolf's cubs. By Hercules! other sepulchre for him means need of one for ourselves."
So speaking, he at last drew Sergius away, and they began their weary tramp across the field.
"If I could have seen but one pulse-eater among the slain," said the tribune, after they had gone some distance in silence.
"I know of one that should be dead," remarked Decius, grimly, "if a spear through his midriff be enough for him. Truly the ancient shafts are useless in close fight, save for a single thrust. I, for one, welcome the Greek equipment—and the sooner the better."
Suddenly Sergius stopped and laid his hand upon his comrade's arm.
"Look!" he said.
A long, low rampart seemed to rise up from the plain two hundred yards ahead.
"Their camp," said the decurion, after a short pause, "and deserted. Let us go forward cautiously; perhaps we shall find food."
Step by step they crept up, walking faster and more erect as they drew nearer and as the evidence that life was not there became more apparent.