longer! A stranger came among us and misled us; but as you do not wish to change our customs, and only ask for the head of the guilty, why should we fall out with each other? Did any one ever refuse to draw a thorn from a wound? No, for the cure follows. Give us, then,' they added, addressing the Bey, 'a party of your men, and we will bring you Bou-Daili; for he has taken refuge in a very strong place, and then your chaous may deal with him as you think fit.'

"The day of death had dawned for Bey Osman, and veiled his eagle eye, for he believed these words. Half of his faithful soldiers by his orders marched away, full of confidence, into the ambush laid for them. From our camp we heard their last shrieks. The Kabyles darted on them as a wild beast would from its den. Then the great heart of Osman beat against his breast, and he flew to their succour. We followed his steps. He cut across the valley, thinking to find a road, but under our ranks, being many, the ground sank. We were clogged, and for a while immoveable in the mud. The Kabyles might then be seen swarming on all sides, running along every declivity; and a shower of shot fell upon us as thick as hail-stones in a hail-storm. We were

mowed down like grass, and he who fell was to rise no more. Osman, standing upright in his stirrups, with his tall form and menacing aspect, seemed still to defy them, and no ball hit him. He was moving away with the few cavaliers who still surrounded him to a place where the ground looked firmer, when his horse put his foot into a deep hole covered by thick grass, and he disappeared, and the earth closed over him. The Bey was to die, that was written, but his body was not to fall into the hands of the Kabyles. I, with a few others, gained the wood, but we fled from death, only to run upon death. The Kabyles, incited to carnage by the clamorous shrieks of exultation of their women, slew without pity. In the last moments of a man in battle, his whole life is mirrored before him, all that is dear to him rushes to his heart. Zahra, my wife, our little child, and his sweet smile passed before my eyes. My heart failed me in the presence of death, but Zahra brought me a thought which delivered me. I caught hold of the gown of a woman, and asked for the Anaya. Proud to show her power, she threw me her veil, and from that moment I was safe, surrounded with her protection. The Kabyles now began firing off, as a rejoicing for

their victory, feux de joie on all sides. There was not a single Turk to respond, and the blood

so abundantly, almost in streams, into the valley, that the Kabyles have ever since called it the Mortier. Believe me then, that where his power was broken, and he met with his death, to whom heads, at a wave of his hand, bowed to the dust, the danger is great and success uncertain. Has not Abi-Said said in his commentaries, 'Submit to every power which is strong, for strength is the manifestation of God's will upon earth?' If you are destined to conquer, a cloud of powder will carry you to conquest, and the Kabyle will acknowledge his master."

Ali ceased speaking, he re-lit his pipe, and sunk again into silence. The Arab flute and guitar had been, all the while, shrilling and twanging war songs; and "the long-barrelled gun brings the enemy down," were the last words of the accompanying rhymes that struck my ear.

"Right," said I, rising, "those words are a good omen; thanks, old Ali, for your story. Please God, we shall succeed, and not meet with the fate of the Bey."

The narrow lanes of the old town were now plunged in silence from time to time only a

white shadow glided along the walls. In the square, several Arab couriers, crouching beside their horses, at the gates of the palace of the Bey, were waiting for the last dispatches of General St. Arnaud; for whilst Ali was relating the disasters of Osman Bey, the General, though far from feeling the superstitious terror of the old Turk, yet knowing that he had a formidable enemy to encounter, had held a conference with the officers commanding divisions.

On reaching my own quarters, I learnt that orders for a march had been issued, and my joy was so great, that, all the night long, I saw Kabyles clambering from rock to rock, endeavouring, in vain, to avoid my shots. At day-light these visions gave place to reality, and at noon the bugles sounded the march to Milah, a little town about twelve leagues to the south-west of Constantine, not far from the Kabyle mountains.

263

II.

Two brigades of infantry, two hundred and fifty cavalry, twelve hundred beasts of burthen, carrying a heavy convoy, in all, nine thousand five hundred men, from different parts of the province, and even from Algiers, were on the 7th of May last assembled under the walls of Milah. Zouaves, native sharpshooters, the Orleans light infantry, foreign legion, the 8th and 9th of the line, all old African veterans; the 20th which had just passed over breaches effected by French guns, into Rome, and the 10th newly arrived, were the solid battalions that composed the Kabyle column. Its chiefs were first in command: General St. Arnaud, a man of rapid decision, firm in his purposes, ardent in their execution, and particularly happy in those sudden onsets, in which surprise is victory; General de Luzy, an officer of the old school, of the Imperial guard; and General