Some orders were given and a great ring was formed, leaving an arena clear that may have measured a hundred and fifty yards in diameter.  Then suddenly, from opposite sides, the two regiments, known as the Bees and the Wasps respectively, rushed upon each other, uttering their war-cries.

“I put ten head of cattle on the Bees; who wagers on the Wasps?” cried the king.

“I, Lord,” answered the Prince Hafela, stepping forward.

“You, Prince!” said the king with a quick frown.  “Well, you are right to back them, they are your own regiment.  Ah! they are at it.”

By this time the scene was that of a hell broken loose upon the earth.  The two regiments, numbering some 5000 men in all, had come together, and the roar of their meeting shields was like the roar of thunder.  They were armed with kerries only, and not with spears, for the fight was supposed to be a mimic one; but these weapons they used with such effect that soon hundreds of them were down dead or with shattered skulls and bruised limbs.  Fiercely they fought, while the whole army watched, for their rivalry was keen and for many months they had known that they were to be pitted one against the other on this day.  Fiercely they fought, while the captains cried their orders, and the dust rose up in clouds as they swung to and fro, breast thrusting against breast.  At length the end came; the Bees began to give, they fell back ever more quickly till their retreat was a rout, and, leaving many stretched upon the ground, amid the mocking cries of the army they were driven to the fence, by touching which they obtained peace at the hands of their victors.

The king saw, and his somewhat heavy, quiet face grew alive with rage.

“Search and see,” he said, “if the captain of the Bees is alive and unhurt.”

Messengers went to do his bidding, and presently they returned, bringing with them a man of magnificent appearance and middle age, whose left arm had been broken by a blow from a kerry.  With his right hand he saluted first the king, then the Prince Nodwengo, a kindly-faced, mild-eyed man, in whose command he was.

“What have you to say?” asked the king, in a cold voice of anger.  “Know you that you have cost me ten head of the royal white cattle?”

“King, I have nothing to say,” answered the captain calmly, “except that my men are cowards.”

“That is certainly so,” said the king.  “Let all the wounded among them be carried away; and for you, captain, who turn my soldiers into cowards, you shall die a dog’s death, hanging to-morrow on the Tree of Doom.  As for your regiment, I banish it to the fever country, there to hunt elephants for three years, since it is not fit to fight with men.”

“It is well,” replied the captain, “since death is better than shame.  Only King, I have done you good service in the past; I ask that it may be presently and by the spear.”

“So be it,” said the king.