themselves for war, and went to her, saying: "To-morrow we will set out with our servants to seek thy wedding present." And at the dawn of day three hundred Touaregs, commanded by Ould-Biska, a cousin of Kheddash, set out on their march to the northward. Hardly had they taken up their position at their first halt, when they beheld coming up behind them half a score of camels with riders, and among them one fleeter of foot and more richly accoutred than the others. They at once recognized the camel of Fetoum, for Fetoum had come in person to join their little army. She was greeted with loud acclamations, for it seemed to them, and perhaps with reason, that she had come expressly to be able more promptly to fulfil her promise. It was the month of May, when water is to be found in every ravine, and the sands are clothed with herbage. During the halt on the eighth day, the scouts came in with the news that a strong body of the Shamba, commanded by Ben-Mansour, were driving their flocks towards the grazing grounds of the Oued-Nessa. The Shamba, however, having received intelligence of the approach of the Touaregs, had turned suddenly towards the north and had already gained the Oued-Mzab. But their retreat was speedily discovered, and by a forced march of a day and a night, the Touaregs placed themselves in ambush in ravines and brushwood at a distance of only a few leagues from the enemy, who had now no suspicion of their presence. All that day they rested, and when night came they again took to the plain, putting their camels to a long swinging trot. At length about midnight the barking of the dogs betrayed the _douar_ of which they were in search. The next moment, on a signal given by Ould-Biska, they dashed forward uttering their war-cry. Of the Shamba, at the most not more than five or six escaped, and one even of these was wounded by Ould-Biska who, with a thrust of his long spear, struck him in the loin. Run away with by his mare, the ill-fated horseman, rolling from side to side but still keeping his seat, went on a few steps, but presently he sank forward and fell over on to the sand, dragging down with him in his fall a child seven or eight years of age whom he had till then kept concealed in his burnous. "Ben-Mansour! Ben-Mansour! knowest thou Ben-Mansour?" demanded Ould-Biska. "He was my father—behold him!" replied the boy, calm and erect beside the dead body. At that moment, Fetoum came up, followed, surrounded, and closely hemmed in by a group of the Touaregs. "It is I who have slain him!" cried Ould-Biska. "And it shall be done as I said," answered Fetoum; "but take thy poniard, open the body of the accursed, tear out his heart, and throw it to the dogs."