formidable enough even to a strong soldier, while Fabricius was an old man.
But when the elephant began to trumpet, the Roman only laughed, and without stirring he said, 'The beast cannot move me to-day more than your gold yesterday.'
Fabricius had easily guessed the meaning of the strange interruption, and of the appearance of the huge animal in the king's sitting-room.
Pyrrhus saw that it was hopeless to try to come to terms with the Roman, and he again prepared for war.
Early in 279 B.C. he marched into Apulia, and there, near the town of Asculum, another great battle was fought.
The Romans had learned to dread the terrible war-elephants which accompanied Pyrrhus on the battlefield. To cope with them, they had wagons built, with spikes fixed to the wheels. These wagons were filled with soldiers, who carried javelins, ready to throw at the dread beasts.
But Pyrrhus made these precautions of little use, for he sent the elephants to a part of the field where no wagons had been placed.
Long and terrible was the struggle between the two armies.
The elephants, with archers scattered among them, advanced in a closely-formed body upon the Romans, while the Greeks, using their swords, seemed heedless of their wounds, so only they might get to close quarters with the enemy. But here, as at Heraclea, the elephants dashed upon the Romans before they were aware, and they were forced to flee.
Pyrrhus and many of his officers were wounded, and although the day was theirs, they were soon glad to retire to Tarentum, until their wounds were healed.
The victory of Asculum seemed of as little use as that of Heraclea, for when his wound was healed, Pyrrhus found that so many of his men had perished, that he could not
