But others were silent.
Slowly Jikiza gathered himself from the ground, wondering if he were still alive, and as he rose he grasped the little axe of Umslopogaas, and, looking at it, he wept.

But Umslopogaas held up the great Groan-Maker, the iron chieftainess, and examined its curved points of blue steel, the gouge that stands behind it, and the beauty of its haft, bound about with wire of brass, and ending in a knob like the knob of a stick, as a lover looks upon the beauty of his bride.

Then before all men he kissed the broad blade and cried aloud:-- "Greeting to thee, my Chieftainess, greeting to thee, Wife of my youth, whom I have won in war.

Never shall we part, thou and I, and together will we die, thou and I, for I am not minded that others should handle thee when I am gone." Thus he cried in the hearing of men, then turned to Jikiza, who stood weeping, because he had lost all.
"Where now is your pride, O Unconquered ?" laughed Umslopogaas.

"Fight on.