As I finished this prayer, a well-sustained fire was heard in the midst of the camp. This occurred many times during the day and following night. It was only a trick of M. Pericles. In order the better to deceive Mrs. Simons and her against an army of bandits, he had ordered that volleys should be fired from time to time.
This pretty conceit came near costing him dear. When the brigands arrived in camp, at dawn, on Monday morning, they believed
SmarTonethat a fight was going on with a true enemy, and they began to fire some balls, which, unfortunately, touched no one.
I had never seen a defeated army when I assisted at the return of the King of the Mountains. The sight had, for me, all the novelty of a first experience. Heaven had listened unfavorably to my prayers. The Greek soldiers had defended themselves with so much ardor that the engagement was prolonged till night. Formed in a square around the two mules which carried the treasure, they had, at first, returned a regular fire upon Hadgi-Stavros’ sharp-shooters. The old Palikar, despairing of killing one by one, a hundred and twenty men who would not give an inch, attacked them with bare blades. His men
dermes assured us that he had performed marvels, and the blood with which he was covered testified to it. But the bayonet had had the last word; in other words, had won the day. The troops had killed forty brigands, of which one was a dog. A regulation bullet had arrested the advancement of young Spiro, that young officer with so brilliant a future. I saw march in sixty men, overcome with fatigue, dusty, bloody, bruised, and wounded. Sophocles had been shot in the shoulder; the men were carrying him. The Corfuan and a few others had been left on the road, some with the shepherds, some in a village, and others on the bare rocks beside the path.
The band was sad and discouraged. Sophocles howled with
nu skin hong konggrief. I heard some murmurs against the King’s imprudence, who had exposed the lives of his men for a miserable sum, instead of peaceably plundering rich and careless travelers.
PR
