Raising his knee, Uhila strove in vain

To throw his enemy. Upon their heads

And swaying bodies lay the silver light

Of the bright moon. The great night seemed to pause

Chin upon hand to watch the struggle, air

Hushed to retain the hoarse and laboring sobs

Such strain brought forth. Their shining bodies, oiled

In honor of the feast, granted no hold

To the fierce gripping arms.

49

Then suddenly

Uhila sprang aside and grasped a branch,

A rough, harsh weapon—for they were unarmed.

Wary they watched each other's eyes, like beasts

Stealthy, retreating, circling with heads low,

Bodies bent for the catch. Malua sprang

Close to Uhila, caught his murderous hand,

And with the branch between them, all its thorns

Tearing their breasts, they strove once more. The moon

Glittered in troubled ripples, they had come

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