and killing the man. Other men were on horseback with spears to dispatch the deer. Carpophorus wore only a loose smock that left his powerful arms bare and a few amulets hung around his neck for good luck.
At a signal from the young editor, the trumpet sounded, and while the band played wildly, the venatores rushed into the pass. The next instant the arena was full of screams, brays, howls, bellows, curses, and the noise of the conflict. The crowd loved this spectacle. Being high up and their view of the arena largely obscured by the central ring of masts supporting the awning, they had difficulty watching the individual gladiatorial contests which the nobility in the front row especially enjoyed, but in these venationes there was so much doing that no matter where you sat you could see plenty of action. Everyone was on his feet, shouting encouragement to the venatores although the tumult in the arena was so great that no one could hear his own voice.
Carpophorus worked fast. Leaping from antelope to antelope, he grabbed the wretched creature by the horns, gave the neck one expert twist, and dropping the dying animal seized another. He killed five antelopes in rapid succession... then fifteen . . . then twenty. He killed at least one leopard so Martial says. As each animal dropped, there was a bellow of applause from the stands—and not only from the upper tiers, for the patricians were watching Carpophorus also. The shouts came in a regular rhythm like surf as Carpophorus killed animal after animal. Such a feat of strength had seldom been seen in the arena. Carpophorus, according to Martial, was definitely the star of the show.
By now the crowd of animals was thinning out and it was hard for Carpophorus to catch his victims. He adopted a new technique. Putting his hands behind him, he went after the exhausted foxes and frightened jackals that were crouching against the barricade, too terrified to move. Using his teeth alone, Carpophorus caught them by the back of the neck, gave one quick shake, and killed them. Sometimes the animals would turn on the man and sink their teeth into the venator's chin or cheeks. Carpophorus refused to use his hands to pull them off. He shook the animal loose or dislodged it by rolling on the sand and then returned to the attack. The crowd was hysterical by now, Domitian sat with his mouth open and his eyes bulging with delight and even the young editor, sweating and miserable in his heavy toga, took an interest in the proceedings.
The first lot of animals was almost gone, and slaves with shovels, baskets, and rakes were hurriedly cleaning the arena. The grating in front of the chutes began to creak and then slide upwards. Carpophorus shouted a warning to his fellow venatores and took up a position with his back to the inner barrier.
New animals were being driven into the arena and the air was heavy with the odour of burning straw and the stench of singed hair as the slaves used hot irons to force some reluctant beast to move. These new arrivals were not deer, foxes or antelope. They were lions, a few tigers, many leopards, wild dogs and wolves. Without daring to take his eyes from the arena. Carpophorus raised his hands toward the top of the barrier. Instantly his personal slaves handed him a shield and short sword. The slaves of the other venatores also handed their masters new weapons: capes like those used by a modern bullfighter, pikes, javelins, and daggers.
It was not to be expected that these animals would attack the men of their own free will. Freshly captured, bewildered, cramped from long confinement, their only idea was to escape. But there was nowhere for them to go. When they tried to seek refuge along the barrier, slaves with red-hot irons drove them away. Carpophorus selected a young male lion near him and moved forward, covering himself with his shield.
The lion paid no attention to the advancing man. He had got into a snarling argument with another lion. Carpophorus reached his side and then, shortening his sword, struck for the shoulder. At the last instant the lion leaped back to avoid a blow from the other lion and the sword thrust went through the loose skin on his back. The wounded animal spun around and struck at Carpophorus with his forepaws—left, right, like a boxer. Carpophorus took the blows on his shield and the lion backed away, snarling and 'looking around for some way of escape.
Carpophorus came on. The lion had its back to the barricade now and Carpophorus shouted to the slaves to let him stay there. If the Hon was burned suddenly he would make a wild dash across the arena and be impossible to stop. The lion was no longer snarling and was watching the venator intently. Carpophorus shouted and waved his shield, trying to provoke a charge but the lion would not move. Carpophorus moved back and forth before the animal, but the lion still refused to charge. The venator did not dare to engage the animal against the barrier as he would have no room to dodge. At last, exasperated, he shouted to the slaves, 'All right, give him the fire!55
He saw a quick motion through the slit in the barrier. Then the lion gave a roar of pain and shot forward. Carpophorus braced himself, swaying slightly backward to give his forward thrust more power, but the desperate animal jumped straight over his head and vanished into the mass of animals.
Carpophorus cursed and turned to find another victim. He saw a leopard crouching on the sand and approached him. The leopard watched him with unblinking eyes and then the venator saw the big cat gather himself together for the spring. Carpophorus hated leopards; they were much too quick. A lion was far easier to handle, but this leopard had been the animal nearest to him and he didn't want the crowd to see him avoid it. He watched carefully from the side of his shield waiting for that lightning-like charge.
As always with leopards, no matter how cautious he was, the charge caught him unexpectedly. One moment the cat had been crouching on the sand. The next instant it was on his shield biting at the boss and trying to get a hold on the smooth bronze with its hind legs. Fortunately an animal could not distinguish between a man and his shield and would continue attacking the shield for some seconds without trying to reach the man. Carpophorus plunged his sword into the leopard's body three times before the mortally wounded cat fell back on the sand, kicking in its death throes.
Carpophorus swung around to find his next quarry. Near him, one of the other venatores had succeeded in blinding a lion by throwing a cape over his head and was giving him the death stroke. Another man had a wolf pinned to the sand with his pike and was leaning on the haft to press the spearhead home, avoiding the snapping jaws of the dying animal. Two of the armoured venatores were slowly approaching a tiger from opposite sides, the tiger whirling around in an effort to watch both men at the same time.
A young venator, wild with excitement, flung his javelin and pierced the tiger through the body. Under the circumstances, it was an utterly foolhardy thing to do and Carpophorus, even while the javelin was in the air, knew what would happen. He sprang forward but before he could reach the combatants, the tiger had given a great bound and landed on one of the two armed venatores. The great cat weighed over five-hundred pounds and the man went down as though hit by a poleaxe. Instantly the tiger grabbed the man's head in his jaws and crunched the skull, the venator's bronze helmet cracking like tin as the long fangs went through it.
'Spearmen! spearmen!' shouted Carpophorus at the top of his lungs while trying to distract the tiger's attention. A venator armed with a spear ran up and tried to drive it through the tiger's shoulder but the cat sprang back, striking at the spearhead with his paw. Then he spun around in a circle, biting at the javelin in his body.
Carpophorus shouted to the armed venator, 'Take him on the other side while I move in from here!' The venator nodded and circled the tiger. Carpophorus snapped to the spearman, 'All right, we'll keep him busy until you get a chance to use your spear but don't take all day about it' Settling his shield, he came in toward the tiger.
The tiger had stopped biting at the javelin and was facing Carpophorus. His hindquarters were slightly raised so he could bring his rear legs under him and get the maximum spring for his bound. Carpophorus moved slightly to the right to give the spearman a better chance. The tiger's eyes followed him but the cat did not change its position.
Then, without any more intimation than the leopard had shown, the tiger charged. Carpophorus dropped to one knee to receive the shock, covering himself with his big shield. The tiger hit the shield like a battering ram, knocking it out of the man's hand. Then he grabbed Carpophorus' right shoulder with his teeth and started to drag him across the arena.
Carpophorus stabbed upwards into the tiger's belly. As he did so, he saw the spearman's blade flash past him and plunge deep into the tiger's chest. The armed venator came in and with one terrible stroke split the tiger's skull open with his sword. The dead animal fell across Carpophorus.
The other venatores pulled him from under the striped carcass. Carpophorus was streaming blood but could still stand. Around him other fights were raging. A venator had a leopard by the throat and was trying to strangle it although the cat's slashing hind legs had already disemboweled him. Four wild dogs, huge, yellow
