ner they marched before the face of their enemies into the
desert, without any provision or forage but what they carried with
their accoutrements; and although the Sultan and his Vizier used every
argument to persuade their troops (who still exceeded the number of
their enemies) to turn and pursue the army of Hobaddan, yet so great
was their dread of the victorious rebel and his forces, that they
threatened to throw down their arms rather than return to the battle.

Seeing all his endeavours to inspire his men with courage ineffectual,
the Sultan travelled onward with them into the desert, as one given up
to certain destruction.

After two days' march, they halted beside several small pools; and
such was the excessive drought of Misnar's army, that many perished
before they could be prevailed upon to quit the refreshing waters of
the desert. These, indeed, thought of little more than present relief;
but Misnar, their lord, was overwhelmed with the severest pangs of
distress.

To increase their grief, scouts brought word that the troops of
Hobaddan, being refreshed after their fatigues, were marching towards
them, intending to destroy them while they were faint from want of
provision. The army of the Sultan, terrified by the report, and seeing
no hope of escape, fell upon the wretched Sultan and his faithful
Vizier, and bringing them into the centre of the troops, demanded
their blood as an atonement for the losses they were about to suffer
in their cause.

The ringleader of this general mutiny was Ourodi, the ancient enemy of
the faithful Horam, who, standing foremost in the ranks, commanded the
archers to bind their Sultan and Vizier to a stake.

The Sultan, seeing all his hopes defeated, and the rage of the
multitude, knelt down and commended his cause to the all-powerful
Allah.

[Illustration]

And now the archers were about to bend their bows and fit the deadly
shafts to their bow-strings, when a luminous appearance was discovered
to the eastward, and the outskirts of the army saw a female in robes
of light travelling over the sands of the desert. In a moment she
passed through the ranks of the army, and stood in the circle who were
gathered around to see the execution of the Sultan and his Vizier.

"Misnar," said she, "arise, and fear not those sons of clay, nor the
malice of enchantment: I am the genius Macoma, sent by Mahomet to save
and deliver thee when human assistance was vain and impossible.
There