bled like those of an over-driven horse,
and foaming and hissing he flew at his mortal foe. The king saw the two
engaged in a struggle, but he could not interfere, for the reins which
Mena had dropped were dragging on the ground, and his ungoverned horses,
following the lions, carried him madly onwards.

Most of his comrades had fallen, the battle raged all round him, but
Rameses stood as firm as a rock, held the shield in front of him, and
swung the deadly battle-axe; he saw Rameri hastening towards him with his
horses, the youth was fighting like a hero, and Rameses called out to
encourage him: "Well done! a worthy grandson of Seti!"

"I will win a new sword!" cried the boy, and he cleft the skull of one of
his antagonists. But he was soon surrounded by the chariots of the enemy;
the king saw the enemy pull down the young prince's horses, and all his
comrades--among whom were many of the best warriors--turn their horses in
flight.

Then one of the lions was pierced by a lance, and sank with a dying roar
of rage and pain that was heard above all the tumult. The king himself
had been grazed by an arrow, a sword stroke had shivered his shield, and
his last arrow had been shot away.

Still spreading death around him, he saw death closing in upon him, and,
without giving up the struggle, he lifted up his voice in fervent prayer,
calling on Amon for support and rescue.

While thus in the sorest need he was addressing himself to the Lords of
Heaven, a tall Egyptian suddenly appeared in the midst of the struggle
and turmoil of the battle, seized the reins, and sprang into the chariot
behind the king, to whom he bowed respectfully. For the first time
Rameses felt a thrill of fear. Was this a miracle? Had Amon heard his
prayer?

He looked half fearfully round at his new charioteer, and when he fancied
he recognized the features of the deceased Mohar, the father of the
traitor Paaker, he believed that Amon had assumed this aspect, and had
come himself to save him.

"Help is at hand!" cried his new companion. "If we hold our own for only
a short time longer, thou art saved, and victory is ours."

Then once more Rameses raised his war-cry, felled a Cheta, who was
standing close to him to the ground, with a blow on his skull, while the
mysterious supporter by his side, who covered him with the shield, on his
part also dealt many terrible strokes.

Thus some long minutes passed in renewed strife; then a trumpet sounded
ab