Others regretted their native lands as well as he, even though they might not be so far away.Indeed the Carthaginian captives could distinguish the velaria spread over the courtyards of their houses, beyond the gulf on the slopes of Byrsa.But sentries marched round them continually.They were all fastened to a common chain.Each one wore an iron carcanet, and the crowd was never weary of coming to gaze at them.The women would show their little children the handsome robes hanging in tatters on their wasted limbs.
Whenever Autaritus looked at Gisco he was seized with rage at the recollection of the insult that he had received, and he would have killed him but for the oath which he had taken to Narr' Havas.Then he would go back into his tent and drink a mixture of barley and cumin until he swooned away from intoxication,--to awake afterwards in broad daylight consumed with horrible thirst.
Matho, meanwhile, was besieging Hippo-Zarytus.But the town was protected by a lake, communicating with the sea.It had three lines of circumvallation, and upon the heights which surrounded it there extended a wall fortified with towers.He had never commanded in such an enterprise before.Moreover, he was beset with thoughts of Salammbo, and he raved in the delight of her beauty as in the sweetness of a vengeance that transported him with pride.He felt an acrid, frenzied, permanent want to see her again.He even thought of presenting himself as the bearer of a flag of truce, in the hope that once within Carthage he might make his way to her.Often he would cause the assault to be sounded and waiting for nothing rush upon the mole which it was sought to construct in the sea.He would snatch up the stones with his hands, overturn, strike, and deal sword-thrusts everywhere.The Barbarians would dash on pell-mell; the ladders would break with a loud crash, and masses of men would tumble into the water, causing it to fly up in red waves against the walls.Finally the tumult would subside, and the soldiers would retire to make a fresh beginning.
Matho would go and seat himself outside the tents, wipe his blood-splashed face with his arm, and gaze at the horizon in the direction of Carthage.
In front of him, among the olives, palms, myrtles and planes, stretched two broad ponds which met another lake, the outlines of which could not be seen.Behind one mountain other mountains reared themselves, and in the middle of the immense lake rose an island perfectly black and pyramidal in form.On the left, at the extremity of the gulf, were sand-heaps like arrested waves, large and pale, while the sea, flat as a pavement of lapis-lazuli, ascended by insensible degrees to the edge of the sky.The verdure of the country was lost in places beneath long sheets of yellow; carobs were shining like knobs of coral; vine branches drooped from the tops of the sycamores; the murmuring of the water could be heard; crested larks were hopping about, and the sun's latest fires gilded the carapaces of the tortoises as they came forth from the reeds to inhale the breeze.
Matho would heave deep sighs.He would lie flat on his face, with his nails buried in the soil, and weep; he felt wretched, paltry, forsaken.Never would he possess her, and he was unable even to take a town.
At night when alone in his tent he would gaze upon the zaimph.Of what use to him was this thing which belonged to the gods?--and doubt crept into the Barbarian's thoughts.Then, on the contrary, it would seem to him that the vesture of the goddess was depending from Salammbo, and that a portion of her soul hovered in it, subtler than a breath; and he would feel it, breathe it in, bury his face in it, and kiss it with sobs.He would cover his shoulders with it in order to delude himself that he was beside her.
Sometimes he would suddenly steal away, stride in the starlight over the sleeping soldiers as they lay wrapped in their cloaks, spring upon a horse on reaching the camp gates, and two hours later be at Utica in Spendius's tent.
At first he would speak of the siege, but his coming was only to ease his sorrow by talking about Salammbo.Spendius exhorted him to be prudent.
"Drive away these trifles from your soul, which is degraded by them!
Formerly you were used to obey; now you command an army, and if Carthage is not conquered we shall at least be granted provinces.We shall become kings!"But how was it that the possession of the zaimph did not give them the victory? According to Spendius they must wait.
Matho fancied that the veil affected people of Chanaanitish race exclusively, and, in his Barbarian-like subtlety, he said to himself:
"The zaimph will accordingly do nothing for me, but since they have lost it, it will do nothing for them."Afterwards a scruple troubled him.He was afraid of offending Moloch by worshipping Aptouknos, the god of the Libyans, and he timidly asked Spendius to which of the gods it would be advisable to sacrifice a man.
"Keep on sacrificing!" laughed Spendius.
Matho, who could not understand such indifference, suspected the Greek of having a genius of whom he did not speak.
All modes of worship, as well as all races, were to be met with in these armies of Barbarians, and consideration was had to the gods of others, for they too, inspired fear.Many mingled foreign practices with their native religion.It was to no purpose that they did not adore the stars; if a constellation were fatal or helpful, sacrifices were offered to it; an unknown amulet found by chance at a moment of peril became a divinity; or it might be a name and nothing more, which would be repeated without any attempt to understand its meaning.But after pillaging temples, and seeing numbers of nations and slaughters, many ultimately ceased to believe in anything but destiny and death;--and every evening these would fall asleep with the placidity of wild beasts.Spendius had spit upon the images of Jupiter Olympius;nevertheless he dreaded to speak aloud in the dark, nor did he fail every day to put on his right boot first.
