was not slow. Of what desperate fighting took place in the
galleries, and in the circus between the two sets of gates, the
detail will never be told in full.

At the first alarm the great cave-tigers were set loose, and
these raged impartially against keeper and foe. Of those that went
in through the tunnel, not one in ten returned, and there were few
of these but what carried a bloody wound. Some, with the ruling
passion still strong in them, bore back plunder; one trailed along
with him the head of the captain of the gate; and amongst them they
dragged out two of the warders who were wounded, and whom revenge
had urged them to take as prisoners.

Over these two last a hubbub now arose, that seemed likely to
boil over into blows. Every voice shouted out for them what he
thought the most repulsive fate. Some were for burning, some for
skinning, some for impaling, some for other things: my flesh crept
as I heard their ravenous yells. Those that had been to the
trouble of making them captive were still breathless from the
fight, and were readily thrust aside; and it seemed to me that the
poor wretches would be hustled into death before any definite fate
was agreed upon, which all would pass as sufficiently terrific.
Never had I seen such a disorderly tumult, never such a leaderless
mob. But, as always has happened, and always will, the stronger
men by dint of louder voices and more vigorous shoulders got their
plans agreed to at last, and the others perforce had to give way.

A band of them set off running, and presently returned at
snails' pace, dragging with them (with many squeals from ungreased
wheels) one of those huge war engines with which besiegers are wont