he lake, or took up in their palms its malodorous water;
others, sitting on the ground, took dates from bags, or drank vinegar
and water from their bottles.

High above the camp floated a number of vultures.

Unspeakable sadness and terror seized Ramses at this spectacle. Before
his eyes flies began to circle; for the twinkle of an eye he lost
consciousness; it seemed to him that he would have yielded his throne
not to be at that place, and not to see what was going to happen. He
hurried down from the cliff looking with wandering eyes straight out in
front of him.

At that moment Pentuer approached and pulled him by the arm vigorously.

"Recover, leader," said he; "Patrokles is waiting for orders."

"Patrokles?" repeated the prince, and he looked around quickly.

Before him stood Pentuer, deathly pale, but collected. A couple of
steps farther on was Tutmosis, also pale; in his trembling hand was an
officer's whistle. From behind the hill bent forth soldiers, on whose
faces deep emotion was evident.

"Ramses," repeated Pentuer, "the army is waiting."

The prince looked at the priest with desperate decision.

"Begin!" said he in a stifled whisper.

Pentuer raised his glittering talisman, and made some signs in the air
with it. Tutmosis gave a low whistle; that whistle was repeated in
distant ravines on the right and the left. Egyptian slingers began to
climb up the hillsides.

It was about midday.

Ramses recovered gradually from his first impressions and looked around
carefully. He saw his staff, a division of spearmen and axemen under
veteran officers, finally slingers, advancing along the cliff
leisurely. And he was convinced that not one of those men had the wish
to die or even to fight and move around in that heat, which was
terrible.

All at once from the height of some hill was heard a mighty voice,
louder than the roar of a lion,

"Soldiers of the pharaoh, slay those Libyan dogs! The gods are with
you."

To this unearthly voice answered two voices no less powerful: the
prolonged shout of the Egyptian army, and the immense outcry of the
Libyans.

The prince had no need to conceal himself longer, and ascended an
eminence whence he could see the hostile forces distinctly. Before him
stretched a long line of Egyptian slingers who seemed as if they had
grown up from the earth, and a couple of hundred yards distant the
Libyan column moving forward in dust clouds. The trumpets, the
whistles, the cur