Three more natives bounded forward, their knives held high. They tumbled to the ground also. Fannia stopped and watched as a platoon of natives advanced on them.
Once they were within stabbing range of the Earthmen, the natives were slitting their own throats!
Fannia was frozen for a moment, unable to believe his eyes. Donnaught halted behind him.
Natives were rushing forward by the hundreds now, their knives poised, screaming at the Earthmen. As they came within range, each native stabbed himself, tumbling on a quickly growing pile of bodies. In minutes the Earthmen were surrounded by a heap of bleeding Cascellan flesh, which was steadily growing higher.
"All right!" Fannia shouted. "Stop it." He yanked Donnaught back with him, to profane ground. "Truce!" he yelled in Cascellan.
The crowd parted and the chief was carried through. With two knives clenched in his fists, he was panting from excitement.
"We have won the first battle!" he said proudly. "The might of our warriors frightens even such aliens as yourselves. You shall not profane our temple while a man is alive on Cascella!"
The natives shouted their approval and triumph.
The two aliens dazedly stumbled back to their ship.