The place of sacrifice was an open space near the bank of the river, the dark forest frowning over it on every side, the entire foreground being filled and crowded with an eager, angry multitude, to whom a sacrifice was a feast, and revenge the sweetest luxury that could be offered to their taste. Their wild parade, their savage dances, their hideous yells and demoniacal looks and gestures, designed to terrify, only fired the soul of Ash-te-o-láh to a yet prouder and more majestic bearing. His firm step, his unblenching eye, his fearless and lofty port, touched even his executioners with admiration, and struck his guards with a momentary awe. Suddenly, as with a bolt from the cloud, he dashed down those who stood in his way, sprung out, and plunged into the water, swimming underneath, like an otter, only rising occasionally to take breath, till he reached the opposite shore. He ascended the steep bank at a bound; and then, though the arrows had been flying thick as hail about him from the time that he took to the water, and though many of the fleetest of his enemies were, like very blood-hounds, close in pursuit of him, he turned deliberately around, and with a graceful and becoming dignity, took a formal leave of them, as if he would acknowledge the extraordinary favors they had shown him. Then, raising the shrill war-whoop of defiance, as his last salute, till some more convenient opportunity should be afforded him to do them a warrior's homage, he darted off, like a beast broke loose from its torturing enemies. Inspired with new strength by his sudden release, and the returning hope of life, he flew with a winged speed, so as entirely to distance the fleetest of his eager pursuers. Confident in his speed, and assured that his enemies could neither overtake nor surprise him, he rested nearly a whole day, to recruit his wasted strength, and watch an opportunity to gain, if possible, some further advantage over those who were scenting his track, and thirsting for his blood. Passing a considerable distance beyond a spot, which his well-trained sagacity told him would be the natural resting place of his pursuers, he retraced his steps, walking carefully backwards, and planting each step with great precision, in the very tracks he had just made, so as effectually to conceal the artifice of his return. In this way, he came to a high rock, in which there was a considerable fissure, very narrow at the top, but widening toward the ground, and so concealed by the dense shrubbery that grew around, that it could only be discovered by the most careful scrutiny. Into this fissure he thrust himself, scrupulously replacing every leaf that had been disturbed by his entrance, and adjusting the whole so as not to excite the slightest suspicion in his keen-sighted enemies. Here he awaited their approach.