The La Jara chronicle., 1906-08-17

and cutting their solIerets that they may
rush upon Might We not even now
| make retreati
| My soul will retreat from my body
| irst. cried the little knight. Here /
am, and here bide. while God gives NE
| strength TO lift sword"
And So say H. shouted Sir oliver.
throwing his mace high into the air and
| catching it again by the handle.
TO your arms, meni'' 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
| Ueen heard in those parts before, nor was
| again, until the streams which rippleu
| amid the rocks had been frozen by over
| Tour hundred winters and thawed by us
| many returning springs. Deep and full
and strong 1t Numbered down the rayine,
the fierce battle-call OF warrior race, the
last stern welcome to who 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-
| verberatng 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 foot, with sword and bat
| tle-axe. their broad shields slung In front
of them, the chiyalry of Spain rushed to
| the attack.
And now arose a struggle so fell, so long.
Sc evenly sustained, that even now the
memory of 1t is handed down amongst the
Calabrinn mountaneers, and the ill-omen-
ed knoll is still pointed out by fathers to
| their children the "Altura de los Ingle-
| Sos where the men from across the seas
fought the great fight with the knights
| of the south. The last arrow was quickly
shot, could the singers hurl their
stones, close were friend and foe. From
side to side stretched the thin line of the
| English. lightly armed and quick-footed.
Il It-t.tI NV,zt
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
n wild. long-drawn note. which sweled
upwards TO the ears OF the wondering
peasants who looked down from the edges
| OF the cliffs upon the swaylng 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 madly 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 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 a brown monastic
habit over his suit OF mall. Three archers
he slew in three giant strokes, but Sir
Oliver flung his arms round him, and the
two, staggering and straining, reeled back
wards and fell. locked in each others
grasp. over the edge OF the steep cliff
which fanked the hill. In vain his knights
stormed and rayed 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 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
sheltered them, and by the fury of their
outfall had driven the Spaniards In front
of them In headlong flight down the hill.
In the centre only things seemed to be
going Ill with the defenders. Black Simon
was down-dying. as he would wish to have
died. like a grim old wolf In Its lair with
n 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 more. Burley
lay senseless, stunned by blow from a
mace. and half of the men-at-arms lay
Nigel's shield was broken. his crest shorn.
his nrmor cut and smashed. and the vzor
torn from his helmet; yet he sprang hither
and thither with light foot and ready
hand, engaging two Bretons and Span
lard at the same instant thrusting. stoop-
Ing. dashing In, springing out-while AL
ieyne still fought by his side, stemming
with a handful Of men the fierce tide
which surged up against them. Yet 1t
would have Jared III 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, hundred and fifty
| archers, and forty-seven men-at-arms had
fallen, while the pitiless hail of stones
was already whizzing and piping once more
slant TO further reduce their numbers.
Sir Nigel looked about him at his shat
tered ranks. and his face flushed with Q
soldiers pride.
in many a little pickering but never one
that 1 would be more 10th to have missed
than this. But you 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. / see
that they are already forming to continue
this debate with us. Form up the bowmen
two deep instead of four. By my faith!
some very brave men have gone from
among u.s. Aylward, you are a trusty SOL
dier. for all that your shoulder has never
fHlt aCcAluIH haalS