Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
`Uzziyah prepared for them, even for all the army, shields, and spears, and helmets, and coats of mail, and bows, and stones for slinging.
The arrow can't make him flee. Sling stones are like chaff to him.
His undersides are like sharp potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.