taken before the defection of the Tyrian towns; and, to reciprocate

the courtesy, Rome was now sending him back her captives. She scorned
the overtures of the Mercenaries in Sardinian, and would not even

recognise the inhabitants of Utica as subjects.
Hiero, who was ruling at Syracuse, was carried away by this example.

For the preservation of his own States it was necessary that an
equilibrium should exist between the two peoples; he was interested,

therefore, in the safety of the Chanaanites, and he declared himself
their friend, and sent them twelve hundred oxen, with fifty-three

thousand nebels of pure wheat.
A deeper reason prompted aid to Carthage. It was felt that if the

Mercenaries triumphed, every one, from soldier to plate-washer, would
rise, and that no government and no house could resist them.

Meanwhile Hamilcar was scouring the eastern districts. He drove back
the Gauls, and all the Barbarians found that they were themselves in

something like a state of siege.
Then he set himself to harass them. He would arrive and then retire,

and by constantly renewing this manoeuvre, he gradually detached them
from their encampments. Spendius was obliged to follow them, and in

the end Matho yielded in like manner.
He did not pass beyond Tunis. He shut himself up within its walls.

This persistence was full of wisdom, for soon Narr' Havas was to be
seen issuing from the gate of Khamon with his elephants and soldiers.

Hamilcar was recalling him, but the other Barbarians were already
wandering about in the provinces in pursuit of the Suffet.

The latter had received three thousand Gauls from Clypea. He had
horses brought to him from Cyrenaica, and armour from Brutium, and

began the war again.
Never had his genius been so impetuous and fertile. For five moons he

dragged his enemies after him. He had an end to which he wished to
guide them.

The Barbarians had at first tried to encompass him with small
detachments, but he always escaped them. They ceased to separate then.

Their army amounted to about forty thousand men, and several times
they enjoyed the sight of seeing the Carthaginians fall back.

The horsemen of Narr' Havas were what they found most tormenting.
Often, at times of the greatest weariness, when they were advancing

over the plains, and dozing beneath the weight of their arms, a great
line of dust would suddenly rise on the horizon; there would be a

galloping up to them, and a rain of darts would pour from the bosom of
a cloud filled with flaming eyes. The Numidians in their white cloaks

would utter loud shouts, raise their arms, press their rearing
stallions with their knees, and, wheeling them round abruptly, would

then disappear. They had always supplies of javelins and dromedaries
some distance off, and they would return more terrible than before,

howl like wolves, and take to flight like vultures. The Barbarians
posted at the extremities of the files fell one by one; and this would

continue until evening, when an attempt would be made to enter the
mountains.

Although they were perilous for elephants, Hamilcar made his way in
among them. He followed the long chain which extends from the

promontory of Hermaeum to the top of Zagouan. This, they believed, was
a device for hiding the insufficiency of his troops. But the continual

uncertainty in which he kept them exasperated them at last more than
any defeat. They did not lose heart, and marched after him.

At last one evening they surprised a body of velites amid some big
rocks at the entrance of a pass between the Silver Mountain and the

Lead Mountain; the entire army was certainly in front of them, for a
noise of footsteps and clarions could be heard; the Carthaginians

immediately fled through the gorge. It descended into a plain, and was
shaped like an iron hatchet with a surrounding of lofty cliffs. The

Barbarians dashed into it in order to overtake the velites; quite at
the bottom other Carthaginians were running tumultuously amid

galloping oxen. A man in a red cloak was to be seen; it was the
Suffet; they shouted this to one another; and they were carried away

with increased fury and joy. Several, from laziness or prudence, had
remained on the threshold of the pass. But some cavalry, debouching

from a wood, beat them down upon the rest with blows of pike and
sabre; and soon all the Barbarians were below in the plain.

Then this great human mass, after swaying to and fro for some time,
stood still; they could discover no outlet.

Those who were nearest to the pass went back again, but the passage
had entirely disappeared. They hailed those in front to make them go

on; they were being crushed against the mountain, and from a distance
they inveighed against their companions, who were unable to find the

route again.
In fact the Barbarians had scarcely descended when men who had been

crouching behind the rocks raised the latter with beams and overthrew
them, and as the slope was steep the huge blocks had rolled down pell-

mell and completely stopped up the narrow opening.
At the other extremity of the plain stretched a long passage, split in

gaps here and there, and leading to a ravine which ascended to the
upper plateau, where the Punic army was stationed. Ladders had been

placed beforehand in this passage against the wall of cliff; and,
protected by the windings of the gaps, the velites were able to seize

and mount them before being overtaken. Several even made their way to
the bottom of the ravine; they were drawn up with cables, for the

ground at this spot was of moving sand, and so much inclined that it
was impossible to climb it even on the knees. The Barbarians arrived

almost immediately. But a portcullis, forty cubits high, and made to
fit the intervening space exactly, suddenly sank before them like a

rampart fallen from the skies.
The Suffet's combinations had therefore succeeded. None of the

Mercenaries knew the mountain, and, marching as they did at the head
of their columns, they had drawn on the rest. The rocks, which were

somewhat narrow at the base, had been easily cast down; and, while all
were running, his army had raised shouts, as of distress, on the

horizon. Hamilcar, it is true, might have lost his velites, only half
of whom remained, but he would have sacrificed twenty times as many

for the success of such an enterprise.
The Barbarians pressed forward until morning, in compact files, from

one end of the plain to the other. They felt the mountain with their
hands, seeking to discover a passage.

At last day broke; and they perceived all about them a great white
wall hewn with the pick. And no means of safety, no hope! The two

natural outcomes from this blind alley were closed by the portcullis
and the heaps of rocks.

Then they all looked at one another without speaking. They sank down
in collapse, feeling an icy coldness in their loins, and an

overwhelming weight upon their eyelids.
They rose, and bounded against the rocks. But the lowest were weighted

by the pressure of the others, and were immovable. They tried to cling
to them so as to reach the top, but the bellying shape of the great

masses rendered all hold impossible. They sought to cleave the ground
on both sides of the gorge, but their instruments broke. They made a

large fire with the tent poles, but the fire could not burn the
mountain.

They returned to the portcullis; it was garnished with long nails as
thick as stakes, as sharp as the spines of a porcupine, and closer

than the hairs of a brush. But they were animated by such rage that
they dashed themselves against it. The first were pierced to the

backbone, those coming next surged over them, and all fell back,
leaving human fragments and bloodstained hair on those horrible

branches.
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