as I think the "Ingoldsby Legends" beautifully puts it.
It was a splendid thing to see those brave battalions come on time. after time over the barriers of their dead, sometimes holding corpses before them to receive our spear-thrusts, only to leave their own corpses to swell the rising piles. It was a gallant sight to see that sturdy old warrior, Infadoos, as cool as though he were on parade, shouting out orders, taunts, and even jests, to keep up the spirit of his few remaining men, and then, as each charge rolled up, stepping forward to wherever the fighting was thickest, to bear his share in repelling it. And yet more gallant was the vision of Sir Henry, whose ostrich plumes had been torn off by a spear-stroke, so that his long yellow hair streamed out in the breeze behind him.
There he stood, the great Dane, for he was nothing else, his hands, his axe, and his armor all red with blood, and none could live before his stroke. Time after time I saw it come sweeping down, as some great warrior ventured to give him battle, and as he struck he shouted, "Oh-hoy! O-hoy!" like his Bersekir forefathers, and the blow went crashing through shield and spear, through headdress, hair, and skull, till at last none would of their own will come near the great white "tagati" (wizard), who killed and failed not.
But suddenly there rose a cry of "Twala, y' Twala" and out of the press sprang forward none other than the gigantic one-eyed king himself, also armed with battle-axe and shield, and clad in chain armor.
"Where art thou, Incubu, thou white man, who slew Scragga, my son - see if thou canst kill me!" he shouted, and at the same time hurled a tolla straight at Sir Henry, who, fortunately, saw it coming, and caught it on his shield, which transfixed it, remaining wedged in the iron plate behind the hide.
Then with a cry, Twala sprang forward straight at him, and with his battle-axe struck him such a blow upon the shield that the mere force and shock of it brought Sir Henry, strong man as he was, down upon his knees.
But at the time the matter went no further, for at that instant there rose from the regiments pressing round us something like a shout of dismay, and on looking up I saw the cause.
To the right and to the left the plain was alive with the plumes of charging warriors. The outflanking squadrons had come to our relief. The time could not have been better chosen. All Twala's army had, as Ignosi had predicted would be the case, fixed their attention on the bloody struggle which was raging round the remnant of the Grays and the Buffaloes, who were now carrying on a battle of their own at a little distance, which two regiments had formed the chest of our army. It was not until the horns were about to close upon them that they had dreamed of their approach. And now, before they could even assume a proper formation for defence, the outflanking Impis had leaped, like greyhounds, on their flanks.