t I need not tell you. The poor child was so unhappy at being a slave
and no doubt had first seen the light in a free-house.

"She was fond of me, more than a sister is of a brother--and when my
father was dead she felt that I ought not to learn the news from any one
but herself. She had seen which way I had gone with the Pharanites and
followed me up, and she soon found me, for she had the eyes of a gazelle
and the ears of a startled bird. It was not this time difficult to find
me, for when she sought me we were fighting with the Blemmyes in the
green hollow that leads from the mountain to the sea. They roared with
fury like wild beasts, for before we could get to the sea the fishermen
in the little town below had discovered their boats, which they had
hidden under sand and stones, and had carried them off to their harbor.
The boy from Raithu who accompanied me, had by my orders kept them in
sight, and had led the fishermen to the hiding-place. The watchmen whom
they had left with the boats had fled, and had reached their companions
who were fighting round the castle; and at least two hundred of them had
been sent back to the shore to recover possession of the boats and to
punish the fishermen. This troop met us in the green valley, and there
we fell to fighting.

"The Blemmyes outnumbered us; they soon surrounded us before and behind,
on the right side and on the left, for they jumped and climbed from rock
to rock like mountain goats and then shot down their reed-arrows from
above. Three or four touched me, and one pierced my hair and remained
hanging in it with the feather at the end of the shaft.

"How the battle went elsewhere I cannot tell you, for the blood mounted
to my head, and I was only conscious that I myself snorted and shouted
like a madman and wrestled with the heathen now here and now there, and
more than once lifted my axe to cleave a skull. At the same time I saw a
part of our men turn to fly, and I called them back with furious words;
then they turned round and followed me again.

"Once, in the midst of the struggle, I saw Miriam too, clinging pale
and trembling to a rock and looking on at the fight. I shouted to her to
leave the spot, and go back to my father, but she stood still and shook
her head with a gesture--a gesture so full of pity and anguish--I shall
never forget it. With hands and eyes she signed to me that my father
was dead, and I understood; at least I understood that some dreadful