forces. Accordingly he must proceed along the base of Mount Ariana,
then turn to the left to avoid the mouths of the Macaras, and come

straight to the bridge. It was there that Matho expected him.
At night he used to inspect the pioneers by torch-light. He would

hasten to Hippo-Zarytus or to the works on the mountains, would come
back again, would never rest. Spendius envied his energy; but in the

management of spies, the choice of sentries, the working of the
engines and all means of defence, Matho listened docilely to his

companion. They spoke no more of Salammbo,--one not thinking about
her, and the other being prevented by a feeling of shame.

Often he would go towards Carthage, striving to catch sight of
Hamilcar's troops. His eyes would dart along the horizon; he would lie

flat on the ground, and believe that he could hear an army in the
throbbing of his arteries.

He told Spendius that if Hamilcar did not arrive in three days he
would go with all his men to meet him and offer him battle. Two

further days elapsed. Spendius restrained him; but on the morning of
the sixth day he departed.

The Carthaginians were no less impatient for war than the Barbarians.
In tents and in houses there was the same longing and the same

distress; all were asking one another what was delaying Hamilcar.
From time to time he would mount to the cupola of the temple of

Eschmoun beside the Announcer of the Moons and take note of the wind.
One day--it was the third of the month of Tibby--they saw him

descending from the Acropolis with hurried steps. A great clamour
arose in the Mappalian district. Soon the streets were astir, and the

soldiers were everywhere beginning to arm themselves upon their
breasts; then they ran quickly to the square of Khamon to take their

places in the ranks. No one was allowed to follow them or even to
speak to them, or to approach the ramparts; for some minutes the whole

town was silent as a great tomb. The soldiers as they leaned on their
lances were thinking, and the others in the houses were sighing.

At sunset the army went out by the western gate; but instead of taking
the road to Tunis or making for the mountains in the direction of

Utica, they continued their march along the edge of the sea; and they
soon reached the Lagoon, where round spaces quite whitened with salt

glittered like gigantic silver dishes forgotten on the shore.
Then the pools of water multiplied. The ground gradually became

softer, and the feet sank in it. Hamilcar did not turn back. He went
on still at their head; and his horse, which was yellow-spotted like a

dragon, advanced into the mire flinging froth around him, and with
great straining of the loins. Night--a moonless light--fell. A few

cried out that they were about to perish; he snatched their arms from
them, and gave them to the serving-men. Nevertheless the mud became

deeper and deeper. Some had to mount the beasts of burden; others
clung to the horses' tails; the sturdy pulled the weak, and the

Ligurian corps drove on the infantry with the points of their pikes.
The darkness increased. They had lost their way. All stopped.

Then some of the Suffet's slaves went on ahead to look for the buoys
which had been placed at intervals by his order. They shouted through

the darkness, and the army followed them at a distance.
At last they felt the resistance of the ground. Then a whitish curve

became dimly visible, and they found themselves on the bank of the
Macaras. In spite of the cold no fires were lighted.

In the middle of the night squalls of wind arose. Hamilcar had the
soldiers roused, but not a trumpet was sounded: their captain tapped

them softly on the shoulder.
A man of lofty stature went down into the water. It did not come up to

his girdle; it was possible to cross.
The Suffet ordered thirty-two of the elephants to be posted in the

river a hundred paces further on, while the others, lower down, would
check the lines of men that were carried away by the current; and

holding their weapons above their heads they all crossed the Macaras
as though between two walls. He had noticed that the western wind had

driven the sand so as to obstruct the river and form a natural
causeway across it.

He was now on the left bank in front of Utica, and in a vast plain,
the latter being advantageous for his elephants, which formed the

strength of his army.
This feat of genius filled the soldiers with enthusiasm. They

recovered extraordinary confidence. They wished to hasten immediately
against the Barbarians; but the Suffet bade them rest for two hours.

As soon as the sun appeared they moved into the plain in three lines--
first came the elephants, and then the light infantry with the cavalry

behind it, the phalanx marching next.
The Barbarians encamped at Utica, and the fifteen thousand about the

bridge were surprised to see the ground undulating in the distance.
The wind, which was blowing very hard, was driving tornadoes of sand

before it; they rose as though snatched from the soil, ascended in
great light-coloured strips, then parted asunder and began again,

hiding the Punic army the while from the Mercenaries. Owing to the
horns, which stood up on the edge of the helmets, some thought that

they could perceive a herd of oxen; others, deceived by the motion of
the cloaks, pretended that they could distinguish wings, and those who

had travelled a good deal shrugged their shoulders and explained
everything by the illusions of the mirage. Nevertheless something of

enormous size continued to advance. Little vapours, as subtle as the
breath, ran across the surface of the desert; the sun, which was

higher now, shone more strongly: a harsh light, which seemed to
vibrate, threw back the depths of the sky, and permeating objects,

rendered distance incalculable. The immense plain expanded in every
direction beyond the limits of vision; and the almost insensible

undulations of the soil extended to the extremehorizon, which was
closed by a great blue line which they knew to be the sea. The two

armies, having left their tents, stood gazing; the people of Utica
were massing on the ramparts to have a better view.

At last they distinguished several transverse bars bristling with
level points. They became thicker, larger; black hillocks swayed to

and fro; square thickets suddenly appeared; they were elephants and
lances. A single shout went up: "The Carthaginians!" and without

signal or command the soldiers at Utica and those at the bridge ran
pell-mell to fall in a body upon Hamilcar.

Spendius shuddered at the name. "Hamilcar! Hamilcar!" he repeated,
panting, and Matho was not there! What was to be done? No means of

flight! The suddenness of the event, his terror of the Suffet, and
above all, the urgent need of forming an immediate resolution,

distracted him; he could see himself pierced by a thousand swords,
decapitated, dead. Meanwhile he was being called for; thirty thousand

men would follow him; he was seized with fury against himself; he fell
back upon the hope of victory; it was full of bliss, and he believed

himself more intrepid than Epaminondas. He smeared his cheeks with
vermilion in order to conceal his paleness, then he buckled on his

knemids and his cuirass, swallowed a patera of pure wine, and ran
after his troops, who were hastening towards those from Utica.

They united so rapidly that the Suffet had not time to draw up his men
in battle array. By degrees he slackened his speed. The elephants

stopped; they rocked their heavy heads with their chargings of ostrich
feathers, striking their shoulders the while with their trunks.

Behind the intervals between them might be seen the cohorts of the
velites, and further on the great helmets of the Clinabarians, with

steel heads glancing in the sun, cuirasses, plumes, and waving
standards. But the Carthaginian army, which amounted to eleven

thousand three hundred and ninety-six men, seemed scarcely to contain
them, for it formed an oblong, narrow at the sides and pressed back

upon itself.
Seeing them so weak, the Barbarians, who were thrice as numerous, were

seized with extravagant joy. Hamilcar was not to be seen. Perhaps he