And he forged on the shield a herd of longhorn cattle,
working the bulls in beaten gold and tin, lowing loud
and rumbling out of the farmyard dung to pasture
along a rippling stream, along the swaying reeds.
And the golden drovers kept the herd in line,
four in all, with nine dogs at their heels,
their paws flickering quickly – a savage roar! –
a crashing attack – and a pair of ramping lions
had seized a bull from the cattle’s front ranks –
he bellowed out as they dragged him off in agony.
Packs of dogs and the young herdsmen rushed to help
but the lions ripping open the hide of the huge bull
were gulping down the guts and the black pooling blood
while the herdsmen yelled the fast pack on – no use.
The hounds shrank from sinking teeth in the lions,
they balked, hunching close, barking, cringing away.
– Homer