places where the
columns are struggling; the thinner, where there are breaks in the
columns.

After some minutes of satanic uproar the heir sees that the dust on his
left wing is bending back very slowly.

"Strengthen the left wing!" shouts Ramses.

One half of the reserve runs to the place pointed out, and disappears
in the sand cloud; the left wing straightens itself, the right goes
forward slowly always in one direction.

"Strengthen the centre!" cries Ramses.

The second half of the reserve advances and vanishes in the sand cloud.
The shout increased for a moment, but no forward movement is visible.

"Those wretches fight desperately," said an old officer of the suite to
Ramses. "It is high time that Mentezufis were here."

The prince summoned the leader of the Asiatic cavalry.

"But look to the right," said he; "there must be a bend there."

"Go cautiously so as not to trample our warriors and attack those dogs
in their central column, on the flank."

"They must be chained, for somehow they stand too long," replied the
Asiatic, smiling.

The prince has now about two hundred of his own cavalry, and these
advance, with the others, at a trot, crying,

"May our chief live forever!"

The heat passes description. The prince strains eyes and ears to see
through the sand cloud. He waits and waits. All at once he shouts with
delight. The centre of the cloud quivers and moves forward slightly.

Again it stops, again it moves forward slowly, very slowly, but still
it moves forward.

The din is so tremendous that no one can decide what it means: rage,
defeat, or victory.

Now the right wing begins to bend outward and withdraw in a strange
manner. In the rear of the wing appears a new dust cloud. At the same
moment Pentuer races up, dismounts, and shouts,

"Patrokles is engaging the rear of the Libyans!"

The confusion on the right wing increases, and is passing to the
centre. It is clear that the Libyans are beginning to withdraw, and
that panic is seizing even their main column.

The whole staff of the prince, roused to the uttermost, follows the
movements of the yellow dust, feverishly. In a few minutes alarm
appears on the left wing. The Libyans have begun to flee in that
quarter.

"May I never see another sun, if this is not a victory!" cried a
veteran officer.

A courier rushes in from the priests, who from the highest hill had
followed the course of the battle, and reports that on the left win