The fighting ceased. The Black Kendah, who all this while had beenpressing into the court of the temple, saw and stood stupefied. It wasas though in the presence of events to them so pregnant and terrible mencould no longer lift their swords in war.
A voice called: "The god is dead! The king is dead! Jana has slain Simbaand has himself been slain! Shattered is the Child; spilt is the bloodof Jana! Fly, People of the Black Kendah; fly, for the gods are dead andyour land is a land of ghosts!"
From every side was this wail echoed: "Fly, People of the Black Kendah,for the gods are dead!"
They turned; they sped away like shadows, carrying their wounded withthem, nor did any attempt to stay them. Thirty minutes later, save forsome desperately hurt or dying men, not one of them was left in thetemple or the pass beyond. They had all gone, leaving none but the deadbehind them.
The fight was finished! The fight that had seemed lost was won!