eance on the infidels. No
sooner did they hear of the Moor being over the border than they were
armed and mounted for action. Don Alonso de Aguilar led them forth--a
small body of but forty horsemen, but all cavaliers of prowess and
thirsting for revenge. They came upon the foe on the banks of the Xenil
where it winds through the valleys of Cordova. The river, swelled by the
late rains, was deep and turbulent and only fordable at certain places.
The main body of the army was gathered in confusion on the banks,
endeavoring to ford the stream, protected by the cavalry of Ali Atar.

No sooner did the little band of Alonso de Aguilar come in sight of
the Moors than fury flashed from their eyes. "Remember the mountains of
Malaga!" cried they to each other as they rushed to combat. Their charge
was desperate, but was gallantly resisted. A scrambling and bloody fight
ensued, hand to hand and sword to sword, sometimes on land, sometimes
in the water. Many were lanced on the banks; others, throwing themselves
into the river, sank with the weight of their armor and were drowned;
some, grappling together, fell from their horses, but continued their
struggle in the waves, and helm and turban rolled together down the
stream. The Moors were far greater in number, and among them were
many warriors of rank; but they were disheartened by defeat, while the
Christians were excited even to desperation.

Ali Atar alone preserved all his fire and energy amid his reverses. He
had been enraged at the defeat of the army and the ignominious flight he
had been obliged to make through a country which had so often been the
scene of his exploits; but to be thus impeded in his flight and harassed
and insulted by a mere handful of warriors roused the violent passions
of the old Moor to perfect frenzy. He had marked Don Alonso de Aguilar
dealing his blows (says Agapida) with the pious vehemence of a righteous
knight, who knows that in every wound inflicted upon the infidels he
is doing God service. Ali Atar spurred his steed along the bank of the
river to come upon Don Alonso by surprise. The back of the warrior was
toward him, and, collecting all his force, the Moor hurled his lance
to transfix him on the spot. The lance was not thrown with the usual
accuracy of Ali Atar: it tore away a part of the cuirass of Don Alonso,
but failed to inflict a wound. The Moor rushed upon Don Alonso with his
scimetar, but the latter was on the alert and parried his bl