Attila the Hungry
08-10-2004, 12:21 AM
I was but a farm lad in the days of the wars of re-unification. The Lord MenePtah led our forces into the desert to avoid the stronger army of the Hyksos. We did not have enough horses and did not have the men who could drive the chariot, as did our enemies. We knew there was a well deep into the land west of the Nile. The Hyksos did not...and therefore would not pursue us. "The horses of the invader drink much water," my uncle told me, "they will not follow." He was right and we marched unmolested.
For two days our small "army" of refugee soldiers, hunters and farmers marched west. We reached the small oasis near Silwa. Two days we camped. During this time the real soldiers sharpened their copper axes. The hunters practiced shooting their bows and my uncle and we farm lads slung stones at a streched hide target.
I could hit the target from 200 paces every time. A challenge between my uncle and a hunter ensued. Who could shoot the farther? Bets were
placed. A crowd gathered and jeers and jests were exchanged. The hunter pulled his arrow back as far as he could and let fly. A cheer rose up from the spectators. My uncle stepped out of the circle. "You'll never go farther than that!" a good-natured hunter challenged. My uncle nodded, smiling, as he fixed a large white stone in his sling pocket. His powerful right arm snapped the sling not once, but three times. The whirring sound of the sling was as a mighty wind. The stone sailed out into the sands. The crowd gazed out, shielding their eyes from the sun. "Where is it?" "Can you see it?" mumbled the crowd. Two runners went out to find the arrow and stone. One came back with an arrow and moments later one with a stone. "The farmer wins!" yelled the one with the stone. "Wait...wait" shouted the hunters, "how do we know that was his stone?"
"There are many stones in the flat desert," another yelled.
"Yes, there are...but," said my uncle "mine all have three lines scratched in them".
The runner held up the stone he retrieved and sure enough there were three horizontal lines etched into it. The crowd roared. Debts were settled and we marched north.
"Why do you scratch your stones with those lines?" I asked my uncle as we walked.
"The lines are gooves...and they make the stone scream as it flies through the air," he replied.
"The screaming will frighten your enemies."
When we came upon the Hyksos garrison at the Nile crossing our screaming stones found their targets. We captured the fort with some loss. The Pharoah Amhosis sailed his ships down the river without fear of this Hyksos fort.
For two days our small "army" of refugee soldiers, hunters and farmers marched west. We reached the small oasis near Silwa. Two days we camped. During this time the real soldiers sharpened their copper axes. The hunters practiced shooting their bows and my uncle and we farm lads slung stones at a streched hide target.
I could hit the target from 200 paces every time. A challenge between my uncle and a hunter ensued. Who could shoot the farther? Bets were
placed. A crowd gathered and jeers and jests were exchanged. The hunter pulled his arrow back as far as he could and let fly. A cheer rose up from the spectators. My uncle stepped out of the circle. "You'll never go farther than that!" a good-natured hunter challenged. My uncle nodded, smiling, as he fixed a large white stone in his sling pocket. His powerful right arm snapped the sling not once, but three times. The whirring sound of the sling was as a mighty wind. The stone sailed out into the sands. The crowd gazed out, shielding their eyes from the sun. "Where is it?" "Can you see it?" mumbled the crowd. Two runners went out to find the arrow and stone. One came back with an arrow and moments later one with a stone. "The farmer wins!" yelled the one with the stone. "Wait...wait" shouted the hunters, "how do we know that was his stone?"
"There are many stones in the flat desert," another yelled.
"Yes, there are...but," said my uncle "mine all have three lines scratched in them".
The runner held up the stone he retrieved and sure enough there were three horizontal lines etched into it. The crowd roared. Debts were settled and we marched north.
"Why do you scratch your stones with those lines?" I asked my uncle as we walked.
"The lines are gooves...and they make the stone scream as it flies through the air," he replied.
"The screaming will frighten your enemies."
When we came upon the Hyksos garrison at the Nile crossing our screaming stones found their targets. We captured the fort with some loss. The Pharoah Amhosis sailed his ships down the river without fear of this Hyksos fort.