'Sir Knight,' then said Sir Lancelot,
'Bring me that horse-load hither,
And lay him down, and let him rest;
We'll try our force together.

'For, as I understand, thou hast,
So far as thou art able,

Done great despite and shame unto
The Knights of the Round Table.'

'If thou be of the Table Round,'
Quoth Tarquin, speedily,

'Both thee and all thy fellowship, I utterly defy.'

'That's over much,' quoth Lancelot, 'tho'
Defend thee by and by.'

They set their spears unto their steeds,
And each at other fly.

They couched their spears (their horses ran
As though there had been thunder),
And struck them each immidst their shields,
Wherewith they broke in sunder.

Their horses' backs brake under them,
The knights were both astound:
To avoid their horses they made haste
And light upon the ground.

They took them to their shields full fast,
Their swords they drew out than,
With mighty strokes most eagerly
Each at the other ran.

They wounded were, and bled full sore,
They both for breath did stand,
And leaning on their swords awhile,
Quoth Tarquin, 'Hold thy hand,

'And tell to me what I shall ask.'
'Say on,' quoth Lancelot.' 'Tho'
Thou art. quoth Tarquin, the best knight
That ever I did know;

And like a knight that I did hate,

So that thou be not he,

I will deliver all the rest

And eke accord with thee.'

'Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknown,
I am Lancelot du Lake!

Now Knight of Arthur's Table Round,
King Hand's son of Schuwake.

And I desire thee do thy worst.'
'Ho, ho,' quoth Tarquin, 'tho,'
One of us two shall end our lives
Before that we do go.

'If thou be Lancelot du Lake,
Then welcome shalt thou be,
Therefore see thou thyself defend,
For now defy I thee.'

They buckled then together so,

Like unto wild boars rashing,*

*

And with their swords and shields they ran,
At one another slashing.

The ground besprinkled was with blood,
Tarquin began to yield;

For he gave back through weariness,

And low did bear his shield.

This soon Sir Lancelot espied,
He leapt upon him then,
He pull'd him down upon his knee,
And, rushing off his helm,

Forthwith he struck his neck in two,

And when he had so done,

From prison threescore knights and four

Deliver'd every one.

* 'Rashing' seems to be the old hunting term to express the stroke made by the wild boar with his fangs. To 'rase' has apparently a meaning something similar. Thus in King Richard III. act iii. sc. 2

He dreamt

To-night the boar had rased off his helm.

COMPOUND PROPORTION.

(1) If 8 men can reap 9 acres in 14 hours, how many men will reap 26 acres in 16 hours?

(2) A traveller journeying 12 hours a day, reaches a distance of 450 miles in 10 days; how many hours per day must he travel to complete a journey of 560 miles in 14 days?

(3) If 20 pecks of wheat serve a family of 10 persons for 30 days, how long will 20 pecks serve a family of 12 persons?

(4) A field of corn containing 150 acres is mown by 12 men in 12 days; how many acres could 16 men mow in 8 days? (5) If 25 horses eat 106 bushels of corn in 36 days, in how many days will 12 horses eat 84 bushels?

THE SAHARA.

(From The Tropical World,' by Dr. Hartwig.)

trop'-ics, a belt round the earth extending | 23° 28′ on each side of the Equator

zone, a belt; the tropics are called the Torrid Zone

hen'-neh, a red dye with which the Arab women stain the palms of their hands and their nails

va'-grant, d wanderer

o-a-ses, patches of fertile land in a desert mi-gra'-tions, removals from place to

FROM the Nile to the Senegal, and from the vicinity of Agades or of Timbuctoo to the southern slopes of the Atlas, extends the desert, which above all others has been named 'the Great.'

Surpassing the neighbouring Mediterranean at least three times in extent, and partly situated within the tropical zone, partly bordering on its confines, its limits are in many places as undetermined as the depths of its hidden solitudes. For from the mountain chains which separate it in the north from the fertile coast-lands of Barbary, and intercept the winter rains, the steppes covered with sedgy pale green Alfa-grass, and dotted here and there with grey wormwood and rosemary shrubs, or dark-leaved pistacias, only gradually merge into the naked wilderness; and in the south no geographer is able as yet to draw the line between the rainless Sahara and the wellwatered lands of Nigritia. No European traveller has ever followed the southern limits of the desert from east to west,

nor is its interior known, except only along a few roads, traced for many a century by the wandering caravans. From Tafilet to Timbuctoo, or from Murzuk to Bornu, the long train traverses the desert to exchange cotton goods, silk, iron, glass, pearls, and other articles of northern industry, for the ivory, gold-dust, camels, slaves, ostrich-feathers, and tanned hides of the wealthy Soudan; and annually, from the oases of the Touat, situated to the south of Algeria, a stream of pilgrims flows to the east, and, growing as it advances through the Fezzan, Augila and Siwah, at length reaches Kosseir, on the Red Sea, where it finds vessels waiting to transport it to Djedda, situated on the opposite shore, in the vicinity of Mecca the Holy.

In general the desert may be said to extend in breadth from the thirty-ninth to the seventeenth degree of northern latitude; but while in many parts it passes these bounds, in others fruitful districts penetrate far into its bosom, like large peninsulas or promontories jutting into the sea.

Until within the last few years, it was supposed to be a low plain, partly situated even below the level of the ocean; but the journeys of Barth, Overweg, and Vogel have proved it, on the contrary, to be a high table-land, rising 1000 or 2000 feet above the sea. Nor is it the uniform sand-plain which former descriptions led one to imagine; for it is frequently traversed by chains of hills, as desolate and wild as the expanse from which they emerge. But the plains also have a different character in various parts: sometimes over a vast extent of country the ground is strewed with blocks of stone or small boulders, no less fatiguing to the traveller than the loose drift sand, which, particularly in its western part (most likely in consequence of the prevailing east winds), covers the dreary waste of the Sahara. Often also the plain is rent by deep chasms, or hollowed into vast basins. In the former, particularly on the northern limits of the desert, the rain descending from the gulleys of the Atlas, sometimes forms streams, which are soon swallowed up by the thirsty sands, or dried by the burning sunbeams. In spite of this short duration, the sudden appearance of these streams is not unfrequently the cause of serious distress to the oases which border the northern limits of the desert.

For this reason, as soon as the Atlas veils itself with clouds, horsemen from the oases of the Beni Mzab are sent at full speed into the mountains. They form a chain as they proceed, and announce by the firing of their rifles the approach of the waters. The inhabitants of the oases instantly hurry to their gardens to convey their agricultural implements to a place of safety. A rushing sound is heard; in a short time the ground is inundated; and the little village seems suddenly, as if by magic,

transported to the banks of a lake, from which the green tufts of the palm-trees emerge like islands. But this singular spectacle soon passes away like the fantastic visions of the mirage. The deeper basins of the Sahara are frequently of great extent, and sometimes contain valuable deposits of salt. Wherever perennial springs rise from the earth, or wherever it has been possible to collect water in artificial wells, green oases, often many days' journey apart from each other, break the monotony of the desert. They might be compared with the charming islands which stud the vast solitudes of the South Sea; but they do not appear, like them, as elevations over surrounding plains of sea, but as depressions, where animals and plants find a sufficient supply of water, and a protection, not less necessary, against the terrific blasts of the desert.

A wonderful luxuriance of vegetation characterises these oases of the wilderness. Under and between the date palms, that are planted about six paces apart, grow apricot and peach trees, pomegranates and oranges, the henneh, so indispensable to oriental beauty; and even the apple tree, the pride of European orchards. The vine twines from one date palm to another, and every spot susceptible of culture bears corn, particularly dourrah or barley, and also clover and tobacco. With prudent economy, the villages are built on the borders of the oases, on the unfruitful soil, so that not a foot of ground susceptible of culture may be lost. Sedentary Berber tribes inhabit the oases, and chiefly live upon the fruits of their date trees; while the nomadic Tuaryks and Tibbos wander, with their cattle and sheep, over the desert in quest of scanty forage and thorny shrubbery. In spite of their mutual hatred, the bonds of a common interest connect the vagrant and the agricultural tribes. Condemned to perpetual migrations, the nomade is forced to confide all the property which he is unable to carry about with him to the inhabitant of the oasis; he may even possess a small piece of land, the cultivation or care of which he entrusts to the latter, who, on his part, as soon as he has saved something, buys a sheep or goat, which he gives in charge to the nomade.

An unmitigated hatred, on the contrary, exists between the various erratic tribes, as here no mediating self-interest softens the antipathies which are almost universally found to exist between neighbouring barbarians; and their robber expeditions not merely attack the richly-laden caravan, but also the oasis which may be connected by the bonds of intercourse with their hereditary enemies. The vast tracts of sterile sand, where not even the smallest plant takes root, and which might be called the 'desert of the desert,' present the greatest conceivable contrast to its green oases. With the vegetable world the

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