374 POEMS 
Still he kept facing, and aimed till every arrow 
was gone ; 
Still rode the women on, — by sunset the pass 
was near. 
Still the black horses came, and Rabiah drew 
his sword, 
Checked for the last time there, and face to 
face with a clan, 
Then rode Nubaishah up, son of the old Habib, 
Thrust young Rabiah through, and cried aloud, 
“ He is slain ! 
Look at the blood on my lance!” Said Rabiah 
only, “ A'lie!” 
Turned and galloped once more, and faced when 
he reached al-Khadid. 
There had the women paused, to enter the pass 
one by one. 
“ Mother,” he cried, “give me drink!” She 
answered, “ Drink, thou art dead, 
Leaving thy women slaves. First save thou 
thy women, then die!” 
“Bind up my wound,” he said ; she bound with 
her veil. He sang, 
“T was a hawk that drove the tumult of fright- 
ened birds, 
Diving deep with my blows, before and again 
behind.” 
