As they moved among steep and thickly-wooded hills, a new and horrid sound made the King pause, and look enquiringly at the dervise: “That comes from amidst the unburied slain;” Abensallah faulteringly observed--“It is the howling of hyenas and tygers.” While speaking, he took a small harquebuss from under his garment, and prepared to load it. For the first time in his life Sebastian’s cheek was completely blanched and his nerves shaken; the ghastly image those words had raised, momentarily unmanned him, but recovering, by a violent effort, he quickened the pace of his mule, and came direct upon the plain of Alcazar. The moon shining above the arms and armour of the dead, covered them with a sheet of light: Sebastian hastily put his hand to his eyes, and remained a few moments without courage to look again; but at the explosion of Abensallah’s harquebuss, he raised his head and beheld the beasts of prey which that sound had alarmed, hurrying away, with backward glare from their horrid banquet. The dervise’s harquebuss was re-loaded and again fired, till every savage animal had disappeared; he then assisted his shuddering companion to dismount, and having fastened the mule to a tree, supported him across the plain. Their steps were soon impeded by scattered groups of horses and riders, that had evidently perished in flight: these groups become more frequent, till at length the ground was no where visible. As Sebastian knelt down among these perishing bodies, his senses were nearly overcome with their noisome exhalations and ghastly appearance: some of them were half devoured by the wolves, and every trace of the _divine image_ fearfully effaced: except by their shields and the caparisons of their horses, he could not have known his most intimate associates. Grief and horror become now too strong for outward expression; Sebastian neither spoke nor sighed, but moved from heap to heap with fixed eyes and a wan cheek: sometimes he forgot his errand, and remained gazing on a confusion of bodies, banners, and arms, till the voice of the dervise recalled him. “This is a lesson for Kings!”--said Abensallah;--Sebastian shuddered, and at that moment felt as if his single hand had murdered every victim before him: his countenance expressed this sentiment so strongly, that the dervise sought to change the current of his feelings by suggesting, that his friend might have escaped, since they had not yet found his corpse.--Revived by this suggestion, the unfortunate monarch rallied his scattered spirits and proceeded in his painful task. Advancing a little onward, he stumbled against the venerable bodies of the bishops of Coimbra and Porto, lying together, embracing the staff of a standard, which had belonged to the holy banner: a few paces beyond these, among a heap of swarthy moors, “Like some white poppy sunk upon the plain, Whose heavy head was overcharged with rain,”