The litter, bristling all round with arrows like a hedgehog, was taken down, and, by desire of Aly, placed in a retired spot, where Ayesha’s brother, Mohammed, pitched a tent for her. As he drew aside the curtain of the litter, she screamed at the unknown intrusion;--‘Are thine own people, then,’ he said, ‘become strange unto thee?’ ‘It is my brother!’ she exclaimed, and suffered herself to be led into the tent. The brave but wayward lady had escaped without a wound. [Sidenote: Losses in the battle.] The carnage in this ill-starred battle was very great. The field was covered with ten thousand bodies in equal proportion from either side;[517] and this, notwithstanding that there was no pursuit. For Aly had given stringent orders that no fugitive should be followed, nor any wounded soldier slain, nor plunder seized, nor the privacy of any house invaded. A great trench was dug, and in it the dead were buried, friends and foes together. Aly, who encamped for three days without the city, himself performed the funeral service. It was a new experience to bury the dead slain in battle not against the infidel, but believer fighting against believer. Instead of cursing the memory of his enemies (as became too soon the fashion in these civil wars), Aly on this occasion spoke hopefully of the future state of those who had entered the field, on whichever side, with an honest heart. When they brought him the sword of Zobeir, he cursed the man who had taken his life; and, calling to mind the feats of the deceased warrior in the early battles of Islam, he exclaimed: ‘Many a time hath this sword driven away care and sorrow from the Prophet’s brow.’ The Moslems might well mourn over the memory both of Talha and Zobeir, when they remembered how on the field of Ohod the former had saved the life of Mahomet at the peril of his own; and how often the latter, conspicuous from afar in his saffron turban, carried confusion into the ranks of the idolaters while they yet held possession of Mecca. Their fall, and that of many amongst the Companions, was a loss to the empire itself, because seriously weakening the Coreish in the struggle that yet remained to be fought out betwixt them and the Arab tribes. In fact, this victory of Aly was virtually the victory of these latter--that is to say, of the regicides, and of the factious citizens of Kûfa. Thenceforward Aly himself was almost wholly dependent on them. If, instead, he had succeeded in effecting a strong and lasting compromise with Talha and Zobeir, his position would have been incomparably strengthened. [Sidenote: Aly’s magnanimity towards the enemy.]