Page:William Muir, Thomas Hunter Weir - The Caliphate; Its Rise, Decline, and Fall (1915).djvu/135

 106 and shortly after secured his release. Now the elephants bore down upon the Bedawi lines. The brunt of the onset fell upon the Beni Bajīla. The huge beasts swaying to and fro,—"their howdas, manned with warriors and banners, like moving castles,"—affrighted the Arab horses, which broke away at the horrid sight. The Beni Asad diverted the attack upon themselves, and in the heroic act left four hundred dead upon the field. Then the elephants attacked the wings, spreading consternation all around; and the enemy, profiting by the confusion, pressed forward. The position was critical; and Saʿd, as a last resource, bade ʿĀṣim rid them from the danger at whatever cost. At once that gallant chief chose a band of archers and of agile skirmishers, who, drawing near, picked their riders from off the elephants, and boldly cut the girths. The howdas fell, and the great beasts, with none to guide them, fled. Thus relieved, the Arabs regained their ground. But the shades of darkness were falling, and both armies retired for the night.

The Muslim force was downcast. The uncertain issue added point to the invectives against Saʿd, and, what was still harder for him to bear, the taunts of Selma. During the day, as seated by her lord, they watched together from the ramparts the deadly conflict, she exclaimed, "O for an hour of Al-Muthanna! Alas, alas, there is no Muthanna this day!" Stung by the words, Saʿd struck her on the face, and pointing to ʿĀṣim and his band, said, "What of Al-Muthanna? Was he anything at all compared with these?" "Jealousy and cowardice!" cried the high-spirited dame, faithful to her first husband's memory. "Not so," said Saʿd, somewhat softened; "I swear that no man will this day excuse me if thou dost not, who seest in what