Charlevoix county herald., 1906-08-11

Nigel! cried Sir Simon Burley, hurry
ing up with CONSERVATION upon Ills face.
| "Aylward tells me that there IRE not
| ten score arrows left In all their sheaves.
See! they are springing from their ilorses,
and cutting their sollerets that they may
rush upon US. Might we not even now
make u retreatT
My soul will retreat from my BODY
nrsI. cried the little knight. Here i
AN, and here / bide, while God gives me
strength TO lift sword
And SO say II shouted Sir oliver,
| throwing his mace high into the air and
| catching IL again by the handle.
| 40 your arms, men!' cried Sir Nigel.
| Shoot while you may and then out sword,
and let us live or die together!'
Then uprose from the hill In the rugged
Calabrian valley sound such as had not
been heard in those parts before, nor was
again, until the streams which rtppled
amid the rocks had been frozen by over
four hundred winters and thawed BY as
many returning springs. Deep and full
and strong Ii thundered down the ravine,
| the fierce battle-call Of a warrior race, the
last stern welcome to who SO should join
with them in that world-old game where
the stake Is death. Thrice 1t swelled forth
and thrice 1t sank away, echoing and re-
verberating amidst the crags. Then, with
| set faces, the Company rose up among the
storm Of stones and looked down upon the
| thousands who sped swiftly up the slope
against them. Horse and spear had been
set aside, but on foot, with sword and bat
| tle-axe, their broad shields slung In front
of them. the chivalry of Spain pushed to
the attack.
And now arose a struggle so FELL so long,
| so evenly sustained, that even now the
memory of 1t Is handed down amongst the
Calabrian mountaineers, and the ill-omen-
a6 I'm 10 or tod hv "a fo
their children as the "Altura de los Inge-
SOS, where the men from across the
fought the great fight with the knights
Of the south. The last arrow was quickly
shot, nor could the singers hurl their
stones so close were friend and foe. From
side to side stretched the thin line Of the
English, lightly armed and quick-footed,
while against IL stormed and ragged the
pressing throng of fiery Spaniards and Of
gallant Bretons. The clink Of crossing
sword-blades, the dull thudding Of heavy
blows, the painting and gasping Of weary
and wounded men, all rose together in
wild, long-drawn note, which swelled
upwards to the ears Of the wondering
peasants who looked down from the edges
of the cliffs upon the swaying turmoil Of
the battle beneath them. Back and for
ward reeled the leopard banner, now
borne up the slope by the rush and
weight of the onslaught, now pushing
downwards again as Sir Nigel, Burley,
and Black Simon, with their veteran men,
alarms. flung themselves mady into the
fray. Alleyne, at his lords right hand,
found himself swept hither and thither In
the desperate struggle, exchanging savage
thrnsts one instant with a Spanish cava-
lier, and the next torn away by the whirl
Of men and dashed up against some new
antagonist To the right Sir Oliver, Ayl-
ward, Horde John, and the bowmen Of
the Company fought furiously against the
monkish knights of Santiago, who were
led up the hill by their prior-a great-deep-
chested man. who wore brown monastc
habit over his suit Of mail. Three archers
he slew In three giant strokes but Sir
Oliver flung his arms round him, and the
TWO, staggering and straining, reeed back
| wards and fell, locked in each other a
grasp, over the edge of the steep cliff
which fanked the hill. In vain his knights
stormed and raved against the thin line
which marred their path; the sword Of
Aylward and the great axe Of John gleam-
ed In the forefront of the battle and huge
Jagged pieces Of rock, hurled by the
strong arms Of the bowmen, crashed and
| hurtled amid their ranks. Slowly they
gave back down the hill, the archers still
hanging upon their skirts, with a long
litter of writhing and twisted figures to
mark the course which they had taken
At the same instant the Welshmen upon
the left, led on by the Scotch earl, had
| charged out from among the rocks which
|
outfall had driven the Spaniards In front
OF them In headlong flight down the hill
In the centre only things seemed to be
going i'll with the defenders. Black Simon
was down-dying as he would wish to have
died, like a grim old wolf In its lair with
ring OF his slain around him. Twice Sir
| Nigel had been overborne, and twice AL
| leyne had fought over him until he had
| staggered to his feet once more. Burley
lay senseless, stunned by a blow from a
mace, and half of the men -at t-arms Law
| Uttered upon the ground around him. Sir
Nigels shield was broken, his crest shorn,
his armor cut and smashed, and the vizor
torn from his helmet; yet he sprang hither
and thither with light foot and ready
| hand, engaging two Bretons and a Span
lard at the same instant thrusting stoop-
| ing, dashing in, springing out-while Al,
leyne still fought by his side, stemming
with handful Of men the fierce tide
which surged up against them. Yet 1t
would have Jared Ill with them had not
| the archers from either side closed In upon
the TANKS of the attackers, and pressed
| them very slowly and foot by foot down
the long slope. until they were on the
plain once more, where their fellows were
| already rallying for a fresh assault.
But terrible indeed was the cost at
| which the last had been repelled. OF the
three hundred and seventy men who had
held the crest, one hundred and seventy
| two were left standing, many of whom
were sorely wounded and weak from loss
Of blood. Sir Oliver Buttesthorn, Sir
Richard Causton, Sir Simon Burley, Black
Simon, Johnston, n hundred and fifty
archers, and forty-seven men-at-arms had
fallen, while the pitiless hail of stones
was already whizzng and piping once more
about their ears, threatening every in
slant to further reduce their numbers.
Sir Nigel looked about him at his shat
tered ranks, and his face flushed with a
soldiers pride.
by st. Paul!'' he cried, 81 have fought
In many little pickering, but never one
that / would be more 10th to have missed
than this. But you are wounded, Alleyne?"
1t Is nought, answered his squire,
stanching the blood which dripped from
a sword-cut across his forehead
These gentlemen of Spain seem to be
most courteous and worthy people, 1 see
that they are already forming to continue
this debate with us. Form up the bowmen
two deep instead of four. Pv my faith!
some very brave men bace gone from
among us. Aylward, you are trusty SOL
der, for all that your shoulder has pavar