About his loins and his knees he had wisps of straw and linen rags; his soft and earthy skin hung on his emaciated limbs like tatters on dried boughs; his hands trembled with a continuous quivering, and as he walked he leaned on a staff of olive-wood.
He reached the Negroes who were bearing the torches.

His pale gums were displayed in a sort of idiotic titter; his large, scared eyes gazed upon the crowd of Barbarians around him.
But uttering a cry of terror he threw himself behind them, shielding himself with their bodies.

"There they are! There they are!" he stammered out, pointing to the Suffet's guards, who were motionless in their glittering armour.

Their horses, dazzled by the light of the torches which crackled in the darkness, were pawing the ground; the human spectre struggled and howled: "They have killed them!" At these words, which were screamed in Balearic, some Balearians came up and recognised him; without answering them he repeated: "Yes, all killed, all! crushed like grapes! The fine young men! the slingers! my companions and yours!" They gave him wine to drink, and he wept; then he launched forth into speech.
Spendius could scarcely repress his joy, as he explained the horrors related by Zarxas to the Greeks and Libyans; he could not believe them, so appropriately did they come in.

The Balearians grew pale as they learned how their companions had perished.
It was a troop of three hundred slingers who had disembarked the evening before, and had on that day slept too late.