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 defenders who stood in his path and who only yesterday had been his most faithful archer. He emitted a deathly moan and fell at the feet of the boyar. His comrade swung a battle-axe towards Tuhar to avenge his friend’s death and at the same moment was upraised from both sides by Mongolian lances. The entire rear line of youths fell after a short battle. These were the weakest, wounded in the last battle, who in their pursuit of the Mongols, had lagged behind the others. Nonetheless, they rallied to the fatal struggle and managed to halt the advance of the Mongols if only for a few brief moments while their more fortunate comrades got safely to the bottom of the defile.

“Get into formation!” commanded Maxim, “in single file along the wall of the pass. If they want to pursue us here we’ll give them a bath of death.”

“The first row, jump in after them!” commanded Tuhar Wolf without weighing the advisability of such a move. The first row of Mongols jumped but none of them got up alive, in fact, many did not even reach bottom alive, for they were met in the air by the pole-axes of the youths.

“Hurray!” shouted the youths. “Come on, the second row jump down also.”

But the second row standing on the edge of the gorge was not in any hurry to jump. Tuhar Wolf realized his error and hastily ordered a strong division to march further down, to the opening of the canyon in order to close it off.

“Now we’ll catch our birds in the cage,” he rejoiced. “There are my hunters yonder, coming up! Come men, to the attack!”

The savage shouts of the Mongols echoed in the canyon at Tuhar Wolf’s feet. This was the contingent, sent out by him earlier to overtake the enemy, which now rushed like a torrent into the entrance of the pass towards the Tukholians.

“Let’s make our escape through the lower end of the pass!”