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 the fir around and stood it up on end. The Mongols slid into the water and were never seen again.

Other Mongols who were so violently dislodged from their places trampled each other down into the water or called for help while trying to right themselves. Two or three of them, evidently good swimmers, set out for the banks but even here death did not escape them. Only a few were allowed by their comrades to take places on neighboring piles. But they were not safe there for long. The Tukholians, noticing the success of their first effort, began to float log after log down into the valley. However, these rams failed to do much damage to the Mongols for the strong current carried them past most of the Mongolian posts.

Then Peace-Renown made a new suggestion, that they nail several pieces of timber together and lower these rafts with the aid of ropes down the waterfall into the valley, keeping them close to the banks. Ten vigorous fully armed youths were to stand upon each raft, two of whom would steer the rafts with long poles against the Mongolian stations. It didn’t take long before two such crafts were ready to be lowered down the waterfall, which had been reduced considerably by the swell of the flood. Twenty stout and dauntless youths stepped unto the log rafts and were carried down stream to battle with the Mongols.

It was an easy though resolute combat. The first group of Mongols whom they rammed were almost entirely unarmed, terrified and dismayed. They quickly pushed these unfortunates into the water with their poles. The Mongols on the other piles whimpered pitifully, seeing their approaching death. Burunda gnashed his teeth when he saw the enemy’s merciless manner of warfare and grasped hold of his weapons but his wrath was useless, the poisoned arrows of his Turkomen could not reach the bold Tukholians. The obdurate behadir was forced to stand up to his chest in water and helplessly watch