"Pegasus!" Ammata interrupted. "You know, brother, you brought him to me from the last Moorish war. He really goes as though he had wings."
"--reached him, and before any one of us could lend assistance, with a swift double thrust--"
"You taught me, Gelimer!" cried Ammata, with sparkling eyes, for he could no longer restrain himself.
"--of the short-sword, he thrust the enemy's long spear aside and dealt him a heavy blow on the cheek. But the brave fellow, heedless of the pain, dropped the spear and gripped the battle-axe in his belt. Then our child threw the noose around his neck--"
"You know--the antelope cast!" Ammata exclaimed to Gelimer.
"And with a jerk dragged him from his horse."
Gibamund spoke in the Vandal tongue, but the captive understood everything from the accompanying gestures, and now shrieked in the Latin of the camp, "May my father's soul pass into a dog if that be not avenged! I, the great-grandson of Attila--I--dragged from my horse by a boy--with a noose! Beasts are caught thus, not warriors!"
"Calm yourself, my little friend," replied Thrasaric, approaching him. "There is a good old motto among all the Gothic nations: 'Spare the wolf rather than the Hun.' Besides, that royal bird, the ostrich, is captured in the same way when he is overtaken. So it's no disgrace to you." Laughing heartily, he straightened the heavy helmet with the bear's head.
"We reached the two at once," Gibamund continued, "bound the man, who fought like a wild boar, and snatched from his teeth this strip of parchment which he was trying to swallow."
The prisoner groaned.