They were fed at first with the wounded Barbarians; then they were thrown corpses that were still warm; they refused them, and they all died.

People wandered in the twilight along the old enclosures, and gathered grass and flowers among the stones to boil them in wine, wine being cheaper than water.

Others crept as far as the enemy's outposts, and entered the tents to steal food, and the stupefied Barbarians sometimes allowed them to return.

At last a day arrived when the Ancients resolved to slaughter the horses of Eschmoun privately.
They were holy animals whose manes were plaited by the pontiffs with gold ribbons, and whose existence denoted the motion of the sun--the idea of fire in its most exalted form.

Their flesh was cut into equal portions and buried behind the altar.