The Elephants of Numidia
Julius Caesar clamped his palms upon his ears, but the sound of elephants trumpeting in the distance continued unabated. Shrill and ominous, the din emanating from the enemy camp sent a chill down his spine. It would go on all night and the following day. If his enemies were trying to intimidate him on the eve of battle, they were indeed succeeding.
His officers and Centurions huddled about in small groups within his tent. He had asked for their counsel, but so far no one had uttered a sensible word. The men spoke in hasty whispers with each other while avoiding eye contact with him.
He banged his fist on the table. “Silence!”
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Turning an imminent defeat into victory was a skill that Julius Caesar had mastered.
His officers and Centurions huddled about in small groups within his tent. He had asked for their counsel, but so far no one had uttered a sensible word. The men spoke in hasty whispers with each other while avoiding eye contact with him.
He banged his fist on the table. “Silence!”
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