It was a horrible carnage.
The Mahdi never struck a blow, never made any effort to defend himself, but was ever in the thickest of the fight.
His brow shone as though it were gold.
His presence was remarkable.
Max fought with desperate valor.
At times he stood up in the stirrups to give himself more power in striking a blow.
“The Mahdi forever!” he shouted, with every savage blow.
Yussuf saw the young fellow and knew that, next to the Mahdi, Max was the most powerful leader.
Yussuf would not touch the Mahdi.
He was a trifle superstitious.