antagonist, whose armour rendered him invulnerable; but if the blows he dealt were thus robbed of their murderous power, he avoided with wonderful dexterity those that were aimed at himself during the two hours that the struggle lasted. Meanwhile, all was suspense; the deepest interest was manifested on both sides. At length our champion turned round, and apparently took to flight. All hope was now lost; the enemy was about to proclaim his triumph. The Wahabee pursued, and, with a hand strengthened by the assurance of success, flung his lance; but Tehaisson, foreseeing the blow, stooped even to his saddle-bow, and the weapon flew whizzing above his head; then, suddenly returning, he thrust his spear into the throat of his adversary, taking advantage of the moment when the latter, being obliged to curb his horse hastily before him, was in the act of raising his head. This movement leaving a space between the helmet and the cuirass, the spear passed through from side to side, and killed him on the spot: but his armour supporting him in the saddle, he was carried by his horse into the midst of his followers; and Tehaisson returned in triumph to the tent of the Drayhy, where he was enthusiastically received. All the chiefs embraced him, loading him with eulogies and presents; and Sheik Ibrahim was not backward in testifying his gratitude. Meanwhile, the war and the famine continued to rage: even in the Drayhy’s tent we were two days without food; on the third, he received a considerable supply of rice, which Mola Ismael, chief of the Dallatis, sent him as a present. Instead of husbanding it as a last resource, he ordered that the whole should be dressed, and invited all present to sup with him. His son Saher would not sit down to table; but, being importuned by his father, he requested that his portion might be given to him, and carried it to his mare, declaring that he had rather suffer himself, than see her die for want of food. We had now arrived at the thirty-seventh day from the commencement of the war: on the thirty-eighth, the battle was terrible. The camp of the Osmanlis was taken and pillaged: the pacha had scarcely time to escape to Hama, whither he was pursued by the Wahabee, who there besieged him.