If, however, there is no central authority to preserve order the quarrel spreads and becomes general. This was the original cause of the feud between the Awellimiden and the Hoggars of the north, as well as with the Kel Gheres on the west, a feud which has been going on uninterruptedly from time immemorial. In time of war the _imrad_ or worker suffers but little. Everything is, in fact, so settled by tradition amongst the Tuaregs that even a battle is more like a set of quadrilles than anything else. To begin with, there is generally a palaver, and when all attempts to patch up the quarrel have failed resort is had to arms. The disputants separate, having fixed a time for their meeting, and on the day and at the place agreed upon the two armies or _attabu_ are drawn up as in a mediæval tournament. The forces advance in closely serried battalions. Sometimes the Tuareg fights on horseback, but as a rule he prefers to meet his foe on foot. The combatants hurl defiance at each other and rush shouting to the fray. Spears are flung at a distance of some fifty feet, but they are pretty well always caught on the shields of those at whom they are hurled. Meanwhile the confusion rapidly increases; the chiefs now begin to challenge each other to single combat, and it is no unusual thing for the two armies to cease hostilities with one accord to watch the issue of the struggle between the leaders. Spears, no longer of any use, are flung aside, the dagger and sword taking their place, and gleaming in the sunshine as they are raised against the foe. Blood begins to flow copiously on either side. Here two warriors are holding each other at bay at arms’ length, each trying to pierce his adversary’s heart with his sword; there two others are locked in a murderous embrace, stabbing at each other with their daggers, or trying to crack each other’s skulls with the stone amulet alluded to above. [Illustration: TUAREG HORSEMAN.] At last one side wavers, inferior in strength or in numbers to the other. The warriors begin to flee, and the victors shout, “_Ia! ia! Our adellin rour’ onen imzaden!_” (“Ah! ah! There will be no violins for you!”) And this sarcasm, which means that their wives will be angry and scorn them, often so stings the fugitives that they rally and go back to the struggle, eager to win the praises of their women on their return to their tents. In these battles life is taken without pity or remorse; but, as I have already said, when the victory is won the prisoners are spared. I have even been told by several very trustworthy authorities, that when peace is made on the request of one side or the other, the victors will entirely reclothe the prisoners taken before sending them home. War, however, amongst the Tuaregs generally takes the form of raids, such as those in vogue with the Arabs.