"Wound of speech is worse than wound of sword."

Moorish Proverb.

Spies were already afield when the sun rose this morning, and while their return with the required information was eagerly expected, those of Asni who would be warriors took a hasty breakfast and looked to their horses and guns.

Directly intelligence as to the whereabouts of the AÏt MÎzÁn arrived, the cavalcade set forth, perforce in Indian file, on account of the narrow single track, but wherever it was possible those behind pressed forward and passed their comrades in their eagerness to reach the scene of action. No idea of order or military display crossed their minds, and but for the skirmishers who scoured the country round as they advanced, it would have been easy for a concealed foe to have picked them off one by one. Nevertheless they made a gallant show in the morning sun, which glinted on their ornamented stirrups and their flint-locks, held like lances, with the butts upon the pummels before them. The varied colours of their trappings, though old and worn, looked gay by the side of the red cloth-covered saddles and the gun-cases of similar material used by many as turbans. But for the[page262] serious expression on the faces of the majority, and the eager scanning of each knoll and shrub, the party might have been intent on powder-play instead of powder-business.

For a mile or two no sign of human being was seen, and the ride was already growing wearisome when a sudden report on their right was followed by the heavy fall of one of their number, his well-trained horse standing still for him to re-mount, though he would never more do so. Nothing but a puff of smoke showed whence the shot had come, some way up the face of a hill. The first impulse was to make a charge in that direction, and to fire a volley; but the experience of the leader reminded him that if there were only one man there it would not be worth while, and if there were more they might fall into an ambush. So their file passed on while the scouts rode towards the hill slope. A few moments later one of these had his horse shot under him, and then a volley was fired which took little effect on the advancing horsemen, still too far away for successful aim.

They had been carefully skirting a wooded patch which might give shelter to their foes, whom they soon discovered to be lying in trenches behind the first hill-crests. Unless they were dislodged, it would be almost impossible to proceed, so, making a rapid flank movement, the Asni party spurred their horses and galloped round to gain the hills above the hidden enemy. As they did so random shots were discharged, and when they approached the level of the trenches, they commenced a series of rushes forward, till they came within range. In doing so they followed zig-zag routes to baffle aim,[page263] firing directly they made out the whereabouts of their assailants, and beating a hasty retreat. What success they were achieving they could not tell, but their own losses were not heavy.

Soon, as their firing increased, that from the trenches which they were gradually approaching grew less, and fresh shots from behind awoke them to the fact that the enemy was making a rear attack. By this time they were in great disorder, scattered over a wide area; the majority had gained the slight cover of the brushwood to their rear, and a wide space separated them from the new arrivals, who were performing towards them the same wild rushes that they themselves had made towards the trenches. They were therefore divided roughly into two divisions, the footmen in the shelter of the shrubs, the horsemen engaging the mounted enemy.

Among the brushwood hardly was the figure of friend or foe discernible, for all lay down behind any available shelter, crawling from point to point like so many caterpillars, but firing quickly enough when an enemy was sighted. This style of warfare has its advantages, for it greatly diminishes losses on either side. For the horsemen, deprived of such shelter, safety lay in rapid movements and unexpected evolutions, each man acting for himself, and keeping as far away from his comrades as possible. So easily were captures made that it almost seemed as if many preferred surrender and safety to the chances of war, for they knew that they were sure of honourable treatment on both sides. The prisoners were not even bound, but merely disarmed and marched to the rear, to be conveyed at night in a peaceful manner to their[page264] captors' tents and huts, there to be treated as guests till peace should result in exchange.

By this time the combatants were scattered over a square mile or so, and though the horsemen of Asni had driven the AÏt MÎzÁn from the foremost trenches by the bold rushes described, and their footmen had engaged them, no further advantage seemed likely to accrue, while they were terribly harassed by those who still remained under cover. The signal was therefore given for a preconcerted retreat, which at once began. Loud shouts of an expected victory now arose from the AÏt MÎzÁn, who were gradually drawn from their hiding-places by their desire to secure nearer shots at the men of Asni as they slowly descended the hill.

At length the AÏt MÎzÁn began to draw somewhat to one side, as they discovered that they were being led too far into the open, but this movement was outwitted by the Asni horsemen, who were now pouring down on the scene. The wildest confusion supervened; many fell on every hand. Victory was now assured to Asni, which the enemy were quick to recognize, and as the sun was by this time at blazing noon, and energy grew slack on both sides, none was loth to call a conference. This resulted in an agreement by the vanquished to return the stolen cattle which had formed the casus belli, for indeed they were no longer able to protect them from their real owners. As many more were forfeited by way of damages, and messages were despatched to the women left in charge to hand them over to a party of the victors. Prisoners were meantime exchanged, while through the medium of the local "holy man" a peace was[page265] formally ratified, after which each party returned to its dead, who were quickly consigned to their shallow graves.

Such of the Asni men as were not mourners, now assembled in the open space of their village to be feasted by their women as victors. Basins, some two feet across, were placed on the ground filled with steaming kesk'soo. Round each of these portions sat cross-legged some eight or ten of the men, and a metal bowl of water was handed from one to the other to rinse the fingers of the right hand. They sat upon rude blankets spread on mats, the scene lit by Roman-like olive-oil lamps, and a few French candles round the board of the sheÏkh and allied leaders.

A striking picture, indeed, they presented, there in the still night air, thousands of heaven-lights gleaming from the dark blue vault above, outrivalling the flicker of those simple earth-flames on their lined and sun-burnt faces. The women who waited on them, all of middle age, alone remained erect, as they glided about on their bare feet, carrying bowl and towel from man to man. From the huts and the tents around came many strange sounds of bird, beast, and baby, for the cocks were already crowing, as it was growing late,^* while the dogs bayed at the shadow of the cactus and the weird shriek of the night-bird.

"B'ism Illah!" exclaimed the host at each basin ("In the Name of God!")—as he would ask a blessing—when he finished breaking bread for his circle, and plunged his first sop in the gravy. "B'ism Illah!" they all replied, and followed suit in a startlingly[page266] sudden silence wherein naught but the stowing away of food could be heard, till one of them burnt his fingers by an injudiciously deep dive into the centre after a toothsome morsel.

In the midst of a sea of broth rose mountains of steamed and buttered kesk'soo, in the craters of which had been placed the contents of the stew-pot, the disjointed bones of chickens with onions and abundant broad beans. The gravy was eaten daintily with sops of bread, conveyed to the mouth in a masterly manner without spilling a drop, while the kesk'soo was moulded in the palm of the right hand into convenient sized balls and shot into the mouth by the thumb. The meat was divided with the thumb and fingers of the right hand alone, since the left may touch no food.

At last one by one sat back, his greasy hand outstretched, and after taking a sip of cold water from the common jug with his left, and licking his right to prevent the waste of one precious grain, each washed his hands, rinsed his mouth thrice, polished his teeth with his right forefinger, and felt ready to begin again, all agreeing that "he who is not first at the powder, should not be last at the dish."

* A way they have in Barbary.

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