"Hospitality unto death! Not fight his battles, not share his booty; but if he comes to them seeking shelter and protection, divide the last date with him, shed the last drop of blood in his defence. Up, strike the basin! We will depart ere the sun wakes. Untether the camels!"
The old man rose hastily.
The youth dealt the copper kettle that hung beside the tent a blow with his curved scimetar. The brown-skinned men, women, and children were astir like a swarm of ants. When the sun rose above the horizon, the oasis was empty, desolate, silent as death.
Far in the south whirled upward a cloud of dust and sand which the north wind seemed to be driving farther and farther inland.
CHAPTER IV
Procopius to Cethegus:
We are still marching forward, and certainly as if we were in a friendly country. Our heroes, even the Huns, have understood, thanks less to my marching orders than to actual experience, that they cannot steal as many provisions as the people will voluntarily bring if they are to be paid instead of being robbed. Belisarius is winning all the provincials by kindness. So the colonists flock from all directions to our camp and sell us everything we need, at low prices. When we are obliged to spend the night in the open fields we carefully fortify the camp.
When it can be done we remain at night in cities, as, for instance, in Leptis and Hadrumetum. The Bishop, with the Catholic clergy, comes forth to meet us, as soon as our Huns appear. The Senators and the most aristocratic citizens soon follow. The latter willingly allow themselves to be "forced "; that is, they wait till we are in the forum, so, in case we should all be thrown by our undiscoverable foes into the sea before we reach Carthage, they can attribute their friendliness to us to our cruel violence. With the exception of a few Catholic priests I have not seen a Roman in Africa for whom I felt the slightest respect. I almost think that they, the liberated, are even less worthy than we, the liberators.
We march on an average about ten miles daily. To-day we came from Hadrumetum past Horrea to Grasse, about forty-four Roman miles from Carthage,--a magnificent place for a camp. Our astonishment increases day by day, the more we learn of the riches of this African province. In truth, it may well be beyond human power to maintain one's native vigor beneath this sky, in this region. And Grasse! Here is a country villa--to speak more accurately, a proud pillared palace of the Vandal King--gleaming with marble, surrounded by pleasure-gardens, whose like I have never seen in Europe or Asia. About it bubble delicious springs brought through pipes from a distance, or up through the sand by some magical discoverer of water. And what a multitude of trees! and not one among them whose boughs are not fairly bending under the burden of delicious fruit. Our whole army is encamped in this fruit grove, beneath these trees; every soldier has eaten his fill and stuffed his leather pouch, for we shall march on early to-morrow morning; yet one can scarcely see a difference in the quantity. Everywhere, too, are vines loaded with bunches of grapes. Many, many centuries before a Scipio entered this country, industrious Phœnicians cultivated vines here, between the sea and the desert, training them on rows of stakes a few feet high. Here grows the best wine in all Africa; they say the Vandals drink it unmixed, from their helmets. I only sipped the almost purple liquor, to which Agnellus added half the quantity of water, yet I feel drowsy. I can write no more. Good-night, Cethegus, far away in Rome! Good-night, fellow-soldier! Just half a cup more; it tastes so good. Pleasant dreams! Wine makes us good-natured, so pleasant dreams to you, too. Barbarians! It is so comfortable here. The room assigned to me (the slaves, all Romans and Catholics, have not fled, and they serve us with the utmost zeal) is beautifully decorated with wall paintings. The bed is so soft and easy! A cool breeze from the sea is blowing through the open window. I will venture to take a quarter of a cup more; and to-night, dear Barbarians, if possible, no attack. May you sleep well. Vandals, so that I, too, can sleep sweetly! I almost believe the African sickness--dread of every exertion--has already seized upon me.
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