It was three years ago. We had again marched against the Moors, this time to the southwest to meet the tribes which pitch their tents at the foot of the Auras Mountains. We passed through the Proconsularis, then Numidia, and from Tipasa forced the foe out of the level country up the steep mountains, where, amid inaccessible rocks, they sought refuge. We encamped on the plain, keeping them surrounded until hunger should force them to yield. Days, weeks elapsed. The time grew too long for me, and often, riding along the mountain chain, I sought some spot where lower cliffs might render it possible to scale or storm them.
"On one of these lonely rides (I needed no companion, for the enemy did not venture down into the valley) I had gone a long, long distance from our camp. Riding in a wide circuit around a projecting cliff, I lost the right direction in the vast, monotonous desert. I had never examined this side of the mountains, they seemed less difficult to scale; I felt no anxiety about returning, though my panting horse had covered many a mile,--the prints of his hoofs would guide me back. Already the rays of the ardent sun were falling more aslant, and brown mists were gathering around the glowing disk. I wished to see what lay beyond the nearest cliff, and, guiding my horse close to the rocky base, I turned the corner. Instantly a terrible sound deafened my ears,--a roar that made every nerve quiver. My horse reared in terror; I saw, only a few paces in front of me, a huge lion, a monster in size, crouching to spring. I hurled my spear with all my force; but at the same moment my horse, frantic with fear, reared still higher, overbalanced himself, and fell backward, burying me under his weight. A sharp pain in the thigh was the last thing I felt. Then my senses failed."
He paused, deeply agitated by the remembrance of the scene.
Hilda, her lips half parted, gazed at him in breathless suspense. "A lion?" she faltered. "They usually shun the desert."
"Yes," said Gibamund. "But they like to prowl among the mountains close to the border. I know that you were brought back to Carthage with a broken thigh," he added. "Many, many weeks passed before you were cured; but I was not aware--"
"When I recovered consciousness the sun was setting. It was burning hot--everything--the air, the dry sand on which the back of my head rested (for the helmet had slipped off in my fall), the heavy horse which lay motionless on my right leg and thigh. He had broken his neck. I tried to drag myself from beneath the heavy burden. Impossible; I could not move the broken limb. By bracing my right hand and arm on the sand, I attempted to raise the upper part of my body above the carcass of the horse. I succeeded. Directly in front of me was the lion! The animal lay motionless on his belly a few feet away; the handle of my spear protruded from his breast just beside his right fore-paw. My heart exulted at his death. But alas, no! Now that I had stirred, a low angry growl came from his half-open jaws. The mane bristled; he tried to rise, but could not, and remained lying where he had fallen. Then the claws clenched the sand deeper, evidently in the attempt to drag the body nearer, while the monster's glittering eyes were fixed full on mine. And I?--I could not draw back a single inch. Then--I will not deny it--fear, base, abject, trembling terror seized me. I let myself fall back upon the sand; I could not bear the horrible sight. Through my brain darted the thought: 'Woe betide you, what will be your fate?' And in my despair, my mortal terror, I shrieked as loud as I could, 'Help, help!' But I repented horribly; my voice must have roused the fury of the wounded animal; a roar answered me,--a roar so frightful in its rage and menace that my breath failed. When silence followed, my blood rushed, seething, through my veins. What threatened me? What end awaited me? No cries for aid would be heard by our troops; many, many miles of untrodden desert sands separated me from our farthest outposts. I had not seen during my whole ride a single trace of the foe among the mountains; how gladly would I have surrendered myself into their hands as a captive! But to languish here, under the scorching sun, on the burning sands--to perish slowly, for already thirst was torturing me with its terrible pangs! Ah, and I had heard that this agonizing death by thirst might drag along for days in the lonely wilderness.
"Then, looking up to the pitiless, leaden sky, I asked in a whisper,--I confess that I was afraid to wake the lion's voice again,--'God, God of Justice, why? What sin have I committed to be forced to suffer thus?'
"Then through my brain darted the terrible answer of Holy Writ: 'I will visit the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.' You are atoning, I groaned, for the sins of your ancestors; the curse of those who were burned at the stake is burning you here. You are condemned upon earth and in hell. Is this already hell that compasses me with such scorching heat, that sears my eyes, my throat, my chest, nay, my very soul? And hark! More terrible, louder still, it seemed to me, nearer, rose the roar of the monster. My senses failed again.
"I lay unconscious all night, probably passing from the fainting fit into a dream. In my half-doze I again saw everything that had happened. 'Ah,' I murmured, smiling, 'it is only a dream; it can be nothing but a dream. Such things do not belong to the world of reality. You are lying in your tent, with your sword by your side.' Rousing, I grasped at the hilt. Oh, horrible! I clutched the desert sand. It was no dream.
"Day had already dawned, and the sun again shone pitilessly with its scorching rays upon my unprotected face. Now the thought came, 'My sword! A weapon!' Bear the same torture, the same mortal anguish, for long hours? No! God forgive the heavy sin, but I would end my life; I was already condemned to hell! I grasped my sword-belt; an empty sheath hung from it. The blade had dropped out in the fall. I glanced around and saw the trusty weapon lying very near. Never had I loved it as I did at that moment; it was just at my left; I tried to seize it--in vain. Far as I could stretch my arm, my fingers, the faithful blade lay--perhaps barely six inches away--but beyond my reach. Then a low growl reminded me of the lion, and by a great effort (my strength was failing) I raised myself high enough to see the animal.