There was in his voice so much kindliness that the astonished prince
was silent and let him go.
They were in the desert; a couple of hundred yards behind them was an
army; in front were fugitives several hundred yards in advance. But
though they beat and urged on their horses, the fleeing, as well as
the pursuers, advanced with great difficulty. The sun poured from
above dreadful heat on them, the fine but sharp dust pushed itself
into their mouths, into their nostrils, into their eyes above all;
under their horses' feet the burning sand gave way at every step. In
the air reigned a deathlike silence.
"But it will not continue like this," said Rameses.
"It will be worse and worse," answered Pentuer. "Dost thou see,
worthiness,"--he indicated the fugitives,--"their horses are in sand
to their knees?"
The prince laughed, for at that moment they came out on ground which
was firmer, and trotted about a hundred yards. But soon their road was
confronted by a sea of sand, and again they advanced step by step
slowly.
Sweat poured from the men, there was foam on the horses.
"It is hot!" whispered the heir.
"Listen, lord," said Pentuer, "this is not a good day for hunting in
the desert. This morning the sacred insects showed great disquiet,
then dropped into lethargy. Also my knife of a priest went down very
little in the earthen scabbard, which means intense heat. Both these
phenomena--the heat, and the lethargy of insects--may announce a
tempest. Let us return, for not only have we lost sight of the camp,
but even sounds from there do not reach to us."
Rameses looked at the priest almost contemptuously.
"And dost thou think, O prophet," said he, "that I, having once
commanded the capture of Musawasa, can return empty-handed because I
fear heat and a tempest?"
They went on without stopping. At one place there was hard ground
again, thanks to which they approached the fugitives to within the
distance of a sling cast.
"Hei, ye there!" cried the heir, "yield."
The Libyans did not even look behind, and waded on through the sand
with great effort. After a while one might suppose that they would be
overtaken. Soon again, however, the prince's party struck on deep sand
while the Libyans hastening forward vanished beyond an elevation.
The Asiatics cursed, the prince gritted his teeth.
At last the horses began to stumble more and to be weary, so the
riders had to dismount and go on foot. All at once an Asiatic grew
purple, and fell on the sand. The prince commanded to cover him with a
mantle, and said,--
"We will take him on the way back."
After great toil they reached the top of the sand height, and saw the
Libyans. For them too the road had been murderous, two of their horses
had stopped.
The camp of the Egyptian army was hidden completely behind the rolling
land, and if Pentuer and the Asiatics had not known how to guide
themselves by the sun they could not have gone back to the
camping-place. In the prince's party another man fell, and threw
bloody foam from his mouth. He was left, with his horse. To finish
their trouble, on the outline of the sands stood a group of cliffs;
among these the Libyans vanished.
"Lord," said Pentuer, "that may be an ambush."
"Let it be death, and let it take me!" replied the heir, in a changed
voice.
The priest gazed at him with wonder; he had not supposed such resolve
in Rameses.
The cliffs were not distant, but the road was laborious beyond
description. They had not only to walk themselves, but to drag their
horses out of the soft sand. They waded, sinking below their ankles;
they sank to their knees even in some places.
Meanwhile the sun was flaming above them,--that dreadful sun of the
desert,--every ray of which not only baked and blinded, but pricked
also. The men dropped from weariness: in one, tongue and lips were
swollen; another had a roaring in his head, and saw black patches
before his eyes; drowsiness seized a third,--all felt pain in their
joints, and lost the sensation of heat. Had any one asked if it were
hot, they would not have answered.
The ground grew firm under their feet again, and the party passed in
between the cliffs.
The prince, who had more presence of mind than those who were with
him, heard the snorting of horses; he turned to one side, and in the
shade cast by the cliff saw a crowd of people lying as each man had
dropped. Those were the Libyans.
One of them, a youth of twenty years, wore an embroidered purple
shirt, a gold chain was around his neck, and he carried a sword richly
mounted. He seemed unconscious; the eyes were turned in his head, and
there was foam on his lips. In him Rameses recognized the chief. He
approached him, drew the chain from his neck, and unfastened his
sword.
Some old Libyan who seemed less wearied than others, seeing this,
called out,--
"Though thou art victor, Egyptian, respect the prince's son, who is
chief."
"Is he the son of Musawasa?" asked Rameses.
"Thou hast spoken truth," replied the Libyan. "This is Tehenna, the
son of Musawasa; he is our leader; he is worthy to be even prince of
Egypt."
"But where is Musawasa?"
"In Glaucus. He will collect a great army and avenge us."
The other Libyans said nothing; they did not even look at their
conquerors.
At command of Rameses the Asiatics disarmed them without the least
trouble, and sat down in the shade themselves.
At that moment they were all neither enemies nor friends, only men who
were mortally wearied. Death was hovering over all, but beyond rest
they had no desire.
Pentuer, seeing that Tehenna remained unconscious, knelt near him and
bent above his head so that no one saw what he was doing. Soon Tehenna
sighed, struggled, and opened his eyes; then he sat up, rubbed his
forehead, as if roused from a deep sleep, which had not yet left him.
"Tehenna, leader of the Libyans, thou and thy people are prisoners of
his holiness," said Rameses.
"Better slay me here," said Tehenna, "if I must lose my freedom."
"If thy father, Musawasa, will submit and make peace with Egypt, thou
wilt be free and happy."
The Libyan turned his face aside, and lay down careless of everything;
he seemed to be sleeping.
He came to himself, in a quarter of an hour, somewhat fresher. He
gazed at the desert and cried out with delight: on the horizon a green
country was visible,--water, many palms, and somewhat higher, a town
and a temple.
Around him all were sleeping, both Asiatics and Libyans. But Pentuer,
standing on a rock, had shaded his eyes with his hand and was looking
in some direction.
"Pentuer! Pentuer!" cried Rameses. "Dost thou see that oasis?"
He sprang up and ran to the priest, whose face was full of anxiety.
"Dost thou see the oasis?"
"That is no oasis," said Pentuer; "that is the ghost of some region
which is wandering about through the desert--a region no longer in
existence. But over there--over there--is reality!" added he, pointing
southward.
"Are they mountains?"
"Look more sharply."
The prince looked, and saw something suddenly.
"It seems to me that a dark mass is rising--my sight must be dulled."
"That is Typhon," whispered the priest. "The gods alone have power to
save us, if only they have the wish."
Indeed, Rameses felt on his face a breath, which amid the heat of the
desert seemed all at once hot to him. That breath, at first very
delicate, increased, growing hotter and hotter, and at the same time
the dark streak rose in the sky with astonishing swiftness.
"What shall we do?" asked Rameses.
"These cliffs," said the priest, "will shelter us from being covered
with sand, but they will not keep away dust or the heat which is
increasing continually. But in a day or two days--"
"Does Typhon blow that long?"
"Sometimes three and four days. But sometimes he springs up for a
couple of hours, and drops suddenly, like a vulture pierced with an
arrow. That happens very rarely."
The prince became gloomy, though he did not lose courage. The priest,
drawing from under his mantle a little green flask, said,--
"Here is an elixir. It should last thee a number of days. Whenever
thou art afraid, or feel drowsy, drink a drop. In that way thou wilt
be strengthened and endure."
"But thou, and the others?"
"My fate is in the hands of the One. As to the rest of the people,
they are not heirs to the throne of Egypt."
"I do not wish this liquid!" cried the prince, pushing away the little
bottle.
"Thou must take it!" said Pentuer. "Remember that the Egyptian people
have fixed their hopes on thee. Remember that on thee is their
blessing."
The black cloud had covered half the sky, and the hot wind blew with
such force that the prince and priest had to go to the foot of the
cliff.
"The Egyptian people--their blessing?" repeated Rameses.
All at once he called out,--
"Was it thou who conversed with me a year ago in the garden? That was
immediately after the manoeuvres--"
"That same day, when thou hadst compassion on the man who hanged
himself through despair because his canal was destroyed," answered the
priest.
"Thou didst save my house and the Jewess Sarah from the rabble who
wished to stone her."
"I did," said Pentuer. "And soon after thou didst free the innocent
laborers from prison, and didst not permit Dagon to torture thy people
with new tribute."
"For this people," continued the priest in a louder voice, "for the
compassion which thou hast always shown them I bless thee again
to-day. Perhaps thou art the only one who will be saved here, but
remember that the oppressed people of Egypt will save thee, they who
look to thee for redemption."
Hereupon it grew dark; from the south came a shower of hot sand, and
such a mighty wind rose that it threw down a horse that was standing
in the open. The Asiatics and the Libyan prisoners all woke, but each
man merely pressed up to the cliff more closely, and possessed by
great fear remained silent.
In nature something dreadful was happening. Night covered the earth,
and through the sky black or ruddy clouds of sand rushed with mad
impetus. It seemed as though all the sand of the desert, now alive,
had sprung up and was flying to some place with the speed of a stone
whirled from the sling of a warrior.
The heat was like that in a bath: on the hands and feet the skin
burst, the tongue dried, breath produced a pricking in the breast. The
fine grains of sand burnt like fire sparks.
Pentuer forced the bottle to the prince's lips. Rameses drank a couple
of drops and felt a marvellous change: the pain and heat ceased to
torment him; his thought regained freedom.
"And this may last a couple of days?" asked he.
"It may last four," replied Pentuer.
"But ye sages, favorites of the gods, have ye no means of saving
people from such a tempest?"
The priest thought awhile, and answered,--
"In the world there is only one sage who can struggle with evil
spirits. But he is not here."
Typhon had been blowing for half an hour with inconceivable fury. It
had become almost like night. At moments the wind weakened, the black
clouds pushed apart; in the sky was a bloody sun, on the earth an
ominous light of ruddy color. The hot stifling wind grew more violent,
the clouds of sand thicker. The ghastly light was extinguished, and in
the air were heard sounds and noises to which human ears are not
accustomed.
It was near sunset, but the violence of the tempest increased, and the
unendurable heat rose continually. From time to time a gigantic bloody
spot appeared above the horizon, as if a world fire were coming.
All at once the prince saw that Pentuer was not before him. He
strained his ear and heard a voice, crying,--
"Beroes! Beroes! If thou cannot help us, who can? Beroes! in the name
of the One, the Almighty, who knows neither end nor beginning, I call
on thee."
On the northern extremity of the desert, thunder was heard. The prince
was frightened, since thunder for an Egyptian was almost as rare a
phenomenon as a comet.
"Beroes! Beroes!" repeated the priest in a deep voice. Rameses
strained his eyes in the direction of the voice, and saw a dark human
figure with arms uplifted. From the head, the fingers, and even from
the clothing of that figure, light bluish sparks were flashing.
"Beroes! Beroes!"
A prolonged roar of thunder was heard nearer; lightning gleamed amid
clouds of sand, and filled the desert with lurid flashes.
A fresh peal of thunder, and again lightning.
The prince felt that the violence of the tempest was decreasing, and
the heat also. The sand which had been whirled through the air began
to fall to the earth now, the sky became ashen gray, next ruddy, next
milk-colored. At last all was silent, and after a while thunder was
heard again, and a cool breeze from the north appeared.
The Asiatics and Libyans, tormented by heat, regained consciousness.
"Warriors of the pharaoh," said the old Libyan on a sudden, "do ye
hear that noise in the desert?"
"Will there be another tempest?"
"No; that is rain."
In fact some cold drops fell from the sky, then more of them, till at
last there was a downpour accompanied by thunder.
Among the soldiers of Rameses and their prisoners mad delight sprang
up suddenly. Without caring for the thunder and lightning the men, who
a moment before had been scorched with heat, and tormented by thirst,
ran under the rain like small children. In the dark they washed
themselves and their horses, they caught water in their caps and
leather bags, and above all they drank and drank eagerly.
"Is not this a miracle?" cried Rameses. "Were it not for this blessed
rain we should all perish here in the burning grasp of Typhon."
"It happens," said the old Libyan, "that the southern sandy wind
rouses a wind from the sea and brings heavy rain to us."
Rameses was touched disagreeably by these words, for he had attributed
the downpour to Pentuer's prayers. He turned to the Libyan, and
asked,--
"And does it happen that sparks flash from people's bodies?"
"It is always so when the wind blows from the desert," answered the
Libyan. "Just now we saw sparks jumping not only from men, but from
horses."
In his voice there was such conviction that the prince approaching an
officer of his cavalry whispered,--
"But look at the Libyans."
When he had said this some one made a noise in the darkness, and after
a while tramping was heard. When a flash lighted up the desert they
saw a man escaping on horseback.
"Bind these wretches!" cried the prince, "and kill any one who resists
you. Woe to thee, Tehenna, if that scoundrel brings thy brethren
against us. Ye will perish in dreadful tortures, thou and thy men
here."
In spite of rain, darkness, and thunder the prince's soldiers hurried
to bind the Libyans, who made no resistance.
Perhaps they were waiting for Tehenna's command, but he was so crushed
that he had not even thought of fleeing.
The storm subsided gradually, and instead of that heat of the daytime
a piercing cold seized the desert. The men and horses had drunk all
they wanted; the bags were full of water; there were dates and cakes
in abundance, so a good disposition prevailed. The thunder grew weak;
at last even noiseless lightning flashed less and less frequently; on
the northern sky the clouds parted; here and there stars twinkled.
Pentuer approached Rameses,--
"Let us return to the camp," said he. "In a couple of hours we shall
be there, before the man who has escaped can lead forth an enemy."
"How shall we find the camp in such darkness?" asked Rameses.
"Have ye torches?" asked the priest of the Asiatics.
Torches, or long cords soaked in an inflammable substance they had;
but there was no fire, for their wooden fire-drills were rain soaked.
"We must wait till morning," said Rameses, impatiently.
Pentuer made no answer. He took a small instrument from his bag, took
a torch from one of the soldiers, and went to one side. After a while
there was a low hissing, and the torch was lighted.
"He is a great magician, that priest," muttered the old Libyan.
"Before my eyes thou hast performed a second miracle," said the
prince. "Canst thou explain to me how that was done?"
The priest shook his head.
"Ask of me anything, lord, and I will answer. But ask not to explain
temple secrets."
"Not even if I were to name thee my counsellor?"
"Not even then. Never shall I be a traitor, and even if I desired to
be one I should be terrified by punishment."
"Punishment?" repeated Rameses. "Aha! I remember in the temple of
Hator, that man hidden under the pavement, on whom the priests were
pouring burning pitch. Did they do that, indeed, and did that man die
really in tortures?"
Pentuer was silent, as if not hearing the question, and drew out
slowly from his wonderful bag a small statue of a divinity with
crossed arms. The statue depended from a string; the priest let it
hang, and whispered a prayer, while he watched it. The statue, after
some turnings and quiverings, hung without motion.
Rameses, by the light of the torch, looked at these acts with
astonishment.
"What art thou doing?" asked he.
"I can only say this much to thee, worthiness," replied Pentuer, "that
this divinity points with one hand at the star Eshmun.[19] This hand
leads Phoenician ships through the sea during night hours."
[19] Polar star.
"Then the Phoenicians, too, have this god?"
"They do not even know of him. The god which points one hand always to
the star Eshmun, is known only to us and the priests of Chaldea. By
the aid of this god every prophet night and day, in bad and good
weather, can find his way on the sea or in the desert."
At command of the prince, who went with a lighted torch at the side of
Pentuer, the retinue and the prisoners followed the priest,
northeastward. The god depending from a string trembled, but indicated
with outstretched hand, the sacred star, Eshmun, the guardian of
travellers.
They went on foot at a good pace, leading the horses. The cold was so
sharp, that even Asiatics blew on their hands, and the Libyans
trembled.
With that, something began to crackle and break underfoot. Pentuer
stopped, and bent down.
"In this place," said he, "rain has made a pool on the rock. And see,
worthy lord, what has become of the water."
Thus speaking, he raised and showed the prince what seemed a plate of
glass, but which melted in his hand.
"When there is great cold," said he, "water becomes a transparent
stone."
The Asiatics confirmed the words of the priest, and added that far
away in the north, water turned into stone very often, and fog turned
into a white salt which is tasteless, but breaks in the hands and
causes pain in the teeth.
The prince admired Pentuer's wisdom still more.
Meanwhile, the northern side of the heavens grew clear, showing the
Great Bear and the star, Eshmun. The priest repeated a prayer again,
put the guiding god into his bag, and commanded to quench the torches,
and to leave only a burning cord which kept the fire, and indicated
time by its gradual burning.
The prince enjoined watchfulness on his men, and taking Pentuer,
pushed ahead some tens of paces.
"Pentuer," said he, "from this hour I make thee my counsellor, both
now and when it shall please the gods to give me the crown of Upper
and Lower Egypt."
"How have I deserved this favor?"
"Before my eyes thou hast done deeds which show great wisdom, and also
power over spirits. Besides thou wert ready to save me. So, although
it is thy resolve to keep many things from my knowledge--"
"Pardon, lord," interrupted Pentuer. "For gold and jewels, thou wilt
find traitors shouldst thou need them, among priests even. But I am
not of those men. For think, were I to betray the gods, what bond
could I give not to betray thee also?"
Rameses grew thoughtful.
"Thou hast answered wisely," said he. "But it is a wonder to me why
thou, a priest, hast for me kindness in thy heart. Thou didst bless me
a year ago, and to-day thou wouldst not let me go alone into the
desert, and hast shown me great service."
"Because the gods have forewarned me that thou art worthy, lord;
shouldst thou wish, thou mayst rescue the ill-fated people of Egypt."
"How do the people concern thee?"
"I came from them. My father and brother raised water long days from
the Nile, and received blows of sticks for their labor."
"How can I aid the people?" asked Rameses.
Pentuer grew animated.
"Thy people," said he, with emotion, "toil too much, they pay too much
tribute, they suffer persecution and misery. Hard is the fate of the
toiling man. The worm eats half his harvest, the rhinoceros the other
half; in the fields, a legion of mice live; the locust comes,--the
cattle trample,--the sparrows steal. What is left after these for the
threshing floor the thief takes. Oh, wretched earth-tillers! Now comes
the scribe to the boundary and mentions the harvest. His attendants
have sticks, and black men carry palm rods. 'Give wheat!' say they. He
answers, 'There is none.' They flog him; immediately they stretch him
out at full length--they bind him; they hurl him into the canal, where
they sink him, head downward. They bind his wife in his presence and
also his children. His neighbors flee, carrying their wheat away with
them."[20]
[20] Original description.
"I have seen that myself," said Rameses, "and have driven off at least
one scribe of that sort. But can I be everywhere to forestall
injustice?"
"Thou mayst command, lord, not to torment working-men needlessly. Thou
mayst decrease taxes, appoint days of rest for the earth-tillers. Thou
mayst give each family a patch of land, even the harvest of which
would be theirs, and serve to nourish them. In the opposite case they
will feed themselves as they now do, with lotus seeds, rotten fish and
papyrus, till thy people will perish finally. But show them favor and
they will rise."
"Indeed, I will do so!" said Rameses. "A wise owner will not let
cattle starve nor work beyond the strength of their bodies, or be
clubbed without reason. This must be changed."
Pentuer halted.
"Dost thou promise that, worthy lord?"
"I swear!" answered Rameses.
"Then I swear that thou wilt be the most famous of all pharaohs;
before thee the fame of Rameses the Great, will grow pale!" cried the
priest, mastering himself no longer.
The prince fell to thinking, then asked,--
"What can we two do against those priests who hate me?"
"They fear thee, lord," answered Pentuer. "They fear lest thou begin
war too soon against Assyria?"
"What is that to them if the war be successful?"
The priest bent his head and spread his hands, but was silent.
"Then I will tell thee," cried the prince, in anger. "They want no
war! They fear that I might return from it a conqueror, laden with
treasures, urging on slaves in front of me. They fear this because
they wish every pharaoh to be a weak tool in their grasp,--a utensil
of no real value,--a utensil to be thrown aside when the wish comes.
But this will not happen in my case. Either I shall do what I plan,
and which I, as the son and heir of the gods have the right to do, or
I shall perish."
Pentuer drew back, and muttered an exorcism.
"Speak not thus, worthy lord," said he, in confusion, "lest evil
spirits circling through the desert may seize thy words. A
word,--remember this, ruler,--is like a stone sent from a sling; it
may strike a wall, rebound, and hit the man who hurled it."
The prince motioned with his hand contemptuously.
"It is all one," replied he. "A life in which every one stops my will
has no worth for me. When the gods do not bar me, the winds of the
desert do; when evil spirits are not against me, the priests are. Is
the power of a pharaoh to be of such sort. I wish to do what my mind
says, to give account to my deathless ancestors, and to them only, not
to this or that shaven head, who pretends to interpret the will of
divinity, but who is really seizing power, and turning my wealth to
his own use."
At some tens of yards from them a strange cry was heard at that
moment, half neighing, half bleating, and an immense shadow sped past.
It went like an arrow, and as far as could be seen had a humped back
and a long neck.
From the prince's retinue came sounds of fear.
"That is a griffin! I saw its wings clearly," said one and another of
the Asiatics.
"The desert is swarming with monsters," added the old Libyan.
Rameses was afraid; he also thought that the passing shadow had the
head of a serpent, and something resembling short wings.
"Do monsters really show themselves in the desert?" asked he of the
priest.
"It is true," said Pentuer, "that in such a lonely place evil spirits
prowl about in strange guises. But it seems to me that that which has
passed is rather a beast. It is like a saddle horse, only larger and
quicker in movement. Dwellers in the oases say that this beast may
live without drinking water at all, or at least very rarely. If that
be the case, men hereafter may in crossing deserts use this strange
creature, which to-day rouses fear only."
"I should not dare to sit on the back of a great beast like that,"
said Rameses, as he shook his head.
"Our ancestors said the same of the horse, which helped the Hyksos to
conquer Egypt, but to-day it is indispensable to our army. Time
changes men's judgments greatly," said Pentuer.
The last clouds had vanished from the sky and a clear night set in.
Though the moon was absent the air was so clear that on the background
of the white sand a man could distinguish the general outline of
objects, even when small or distant. The piercing cold also
diminished. All advanced now in silence, and sank, as they walked, in
the sand to their ankles. Suddenly a tumult and cries rose among the
Asiatics,--
"A sphinx! Look, a sphinx! We shall not escape from this desert if
spectres show themselves all the time."
Indeed, outlines of a sphinx on a white limestone hill were seen very
clearly. The body of a lion, an immense head with an Egyptian cap, and
as it were a human profile.
"Calm yourselves, barbarians," said the old Libyan. "That is no
sphinx; it is a lion, and he will do no harm, for he is occupied in
eating."
"Indeed, that is a lion!" confirmed the prince halting. "But how he
resembles a sphinx."
"He is the father of our sphinxes," added the priest in a low voice.
"His face recalls a man's features, his mane is the wig."
"And our great sphinx, that at the pyramids?"
"Many ages before Menes," said Pentuer, "when there were no pyramids
yet, there was on that spot a rock which looked like a recumbent lion,
as if the gods wished in that way to indicate the beginning of the
desert. The holy priests of that period commanded artists to hew the
rock around with more accuracy and to fill out its lacks by additions.
The artists, seeing people oftener than lions, cut out the face of a
man, and thus the first sphinx had its origin."
"To which we give divine honor," said the prince, smiling.
"And justly," answered the priest. "For the gods made the first
features of this work and men finished them under divine guidance. Our
sphinx by its size and mysteriousness recalls the desert. It has the
posture of spirits wandering through it, and terrifies men as does the
desert. That sphinx is really the son of the gods and the father of
terror."
"Everything has in its own way an earthly beginning," answered the
prince. "The Nile does not flow from heaven, but from certain
mountains which lie beyond Ethiopia. The pyramids, which Herhor said
were an image of our state, are built on the model of mountain
summits. And our temples, too, with their pylons and obelisks, with
their gloom and coolness, do they not recall caves and mountains,
extending along the Nile valley? How many times in hunting have I not
gone astray among eastern ridges! I have always struck upon some
strange collection of rocks which recalled a temple. Frequently even,
on their rough sides, I have seen hieroglyphs written by wind and by
rainstorms."
"In that, worthiness, thou hast proof," said Pentuer, "that our
temples were reared on a plan which the gods themselves outlined. And
as a small kernel cast into the ground gives birth to a
heaven-touching palm tree, so the picture of a cliff, a cave, a lion,
even a lotus, placed in the soul of a pious pharaoh, gives birth to an
alley of sphinxes, to temples and their mighty columns. Those are the
works of divinities, not men, and happy is the ruler who when he looks
can discover divine thought in earthly objects and present it in a
form pleasing to future generations."
"But such a ruler must have power, much wealth, and not depend on the
fancies of priests," interrupted Rameses.
Before them extended a second sandy elevation, on which at that moment
appeared some horsemen.
"Are they our men, or the Libyans?" asked Rameses.
The sound of a horn was heard from the eminence; to this an answer was
given by the prince's retinue. The horsemen came down as quickly as
the deep sand would let them. When they had approached one cried
out,--
"Is the heir to the throne here?"
"He is, and is well!" cried Rameses.
They dismounted and fell on their faces.
"Oh, Erpatr!" cried the leader of the newly arrived, "thy troops are
rending their garments and scattering dust on their heads, thinking
that thou hast perished. All the cavalry has scattered over the desert
to find traces, while the gods have permitted us, the unworthy, to be
first to greet thee."
The prince named the man a centurion and commanded him to present his
subordinates for a reward on the morrow.