"Aha, just that. What are they?"

"More than two thousand prisoners, more than three thousand killed, and
barely a few hundred escaped."

"What, then, was the Libyan army?" asked the astonished prince.

"From six to seven thousand men."

"That cannot be. Is it possible that almost a whole army could perish
in such an encounter?"

"And still it is so; that was a terrible battle," replied Tutmosis.
"Thou didst surround them on all sides, the soldiers did the rest, well
yes and the worthy Mentezufis. Even inscriptions on the tombs of the
most famous pharaohs do not mention such a crushing of the enemies of
Egypt."

"Go to sleep, Tutmosis; I am wearied," interrupted the prince, feeling
that pride was beginning to rise to his head.

"Then have I won such a victory? Impossible!" thought he.

He threw himself on to the skins, but though mortally weary he could
not sleep.

Only fourteen hours had passed since the moment when he had given the
signal to begin the battle. Only fourteen hours? Was it possible!

Had he won such a battle? But he had not even seen a battle, nothing
but a yellow dense cloud, whence unearthly shouts were poured out in
torrents. Even now he sees that cloud, he hears the uproar, he feels
the heat, but there is no battle.

Next he sees a boundless desert, in which he is struggling through the
sand with painful effort. He and his men have the best horses in the
army, and still they creep forward like turtles. And what heat!
Impossible for man to support the like.

And now Typhon springs up, hides the light, burns, bites, suffocates.
Pale sparks are shooting forth from Pentuer's body. Above their heads
thunder rolls such thunder as he had never heard till that day. Later
on, silent night in the desert. The fleeing griffin, the dark outline
of the sphinx on the limestone hill.

"I have seen so much. I have passed through so much," thought Ramses.
"I have been present at the building of our temples, and even at the
birth of the great sphinx, which is beyond having an age now, and all
this happened in the course of fourteen hours."

Now the last thought flashed before the prince: "A man who has passed
through so much cannot live long."

A chill went through him from head to foot, and he fell asleep.

He woke next morning a couple of hours after sunrise. His eyes smarted,
all his bones ached; he coughed a little, but his mind was clear and
his heart full of courage.

Tutmosis was at the