And drave away large prey of beeves, and flocks Of fair white sheep, whose keepers they had slain. When the besiegers in their council heard The sound of tumult at the watering-place, They sprang upon their nimble-footed steeds, And overtook the pillagers. Both bands Arrayed their ranks and fought beside the stream, And smote each other. There did Discord rage, And Tumult, and the great Destroyer, Fate. One wounded warrior she had seized alive, And one unbounded yet, and through the field Dragged by the foot another, dead. Her robe Was reddened o’er the shoulders with the blood From human veins. Like living men they ranged The battle-field, and dragged by turns the slain.