He has a score of wounds, yet he fights on! his leg is almost hewn from him with an axe, yet he fights on! His back is pierced again and again, yet he fights on! But two are left alive before him, one twists round and spears him from behind.

He heeds it not, but smites down the foe in front.

Then he turns and, whirling the Watcher on high, brings him down for the last time, and so mightily that the man before him is crushed like an egg.
Galazi brushes the blood from his eyes and glares round on the dead.
"All! Slaughterer," he cries.
"All save two, my brother," comes the answer, sounding above the clash of steel and the sound of smitten shields.
Now the Wolf would come to him, but cannot, for his life ebbs.
"Fare you well, my brother! Death is good! Thus, indeed, I would die, for I have made me a mat of men to lie on," he cried with a great voice.
"Fare you well! Sleep softly, Wolf!" came the answer.

"All save one!" Now Galazi fell dying on the dead, but he was not altogether gone, for he still spoke.

"All save one! Ha! ha! ill for that one then when Groan-Maker yet is up.