But here you must deal with men of my own breed, and we Phoenicians are traders, not fighting men.

Like rats, we fight only when there is no other chance for our lives; nor do we strike the first blow.

It is true that there are some good soldiers in the city, but they are foreign mercenaries; and as for the rest, half-breeds and freed slaves, they belong as much to Ithobal as to Sakon, and are not to be trusted.

No, no; let us stay behind our walls, for they at least were built when men were honest and will not betray us." Now in Zimboe were three lines of defence; first, that of a single wall built about the huts of the slaves upon the plain, then that of a double wall of stone with a ditch between thrown round the Phoenician city, and lastly, the great fortress-temple and the rocky heights above.

These, guarded as they were by many strongholds within whose circle the cattle were herded, as it was thought, could only be taken with the sword of hunger.
At last the storm burst, for on the fifth morning after Elissa had barred herself within the tomb, Ithobal attacked the native town.
Uttering their wild battle-cries, tens of thousands of his savage warriors, armed with great spears and shields of ox-hide, and wearing crests of plumes upon their heads, charged down upon the outer wall.
Twice they were driven back, but the work was in bad repair and too long to defend, so that at the third rush they flowed over it like lines of marching ants, driving its defenders before them to the inner gates.
In this battle some were killed, but the most of the slaves threw down their arms and went over to Ithobal, who spared them, together with their wives and children.
Through all the night that followed, the generals of Zimboe made ready for the onslaught which must come.