This at least is left to you, to die gloriously." While he was still speaking the first files of the regiment rushed upon the fence, tearing aside the thorns with their hands till a passage was made through them.

Then they sprang upon the wall, there to be met by the spears of Hokosa and his men thrusting upward from beneath its shelter.

Time after time they sprang, and time after time they fell back dead or wounded, till at last, dashing forward in one dense column, they poured over the stones as the rising tide pours over the rocks on the sea-shore, driving the defenders before them by the sheer weight of numbers.
"This game is played!" cried Hokosa.

"Fly now to the eastern gate, for here we can do nothing more." So they fled, those who survived of them, and after them came the thousands of the foe, sacking and firing the deserted town as they advanced.
Hokosa and his men, or rather the half of them, reached the gate and passed it in safety, barring it after them, and thereby delaying the attackers till they could burst their way through.

Now hundreds of huts were afire, and the flames spread swiftly, lighting up the country far and wide.