s continued, murders multiplied, and their
attacks became more open and formidable. Missions were sent daily to
the royal city from the emirs and governors of provinces residing at a
distance with the most lamentable accounts, and soldiers were dispatched
in large bodies to scour the country, but all was of no avail.

Abad had almost abandoned himself to despair, when, one lovely evening,
as he wandered along the banks of the Tigris, he observed a boat, laden
with armed men, sailing rapidly down the river. "These must be a party
of the ranger band. Oh, Mahomet!" said he, prostrating himself on the
earth, "be thou my guide!" At length the crew landed on the opposite
shore, which was a continued series of crags, and fastening a chain
attached to the boat to a staple driven into the rock, under the surface
of the water, they suffered the vessel to float with the stream beneath
the overhanging rocks, which afforded a convenient shelter and hiding
place for it, as it was impossible for any one passing up or down the
river to notice it.

Having landed, the party ascended the acclivity, when, suddenly halting
and looking round, to ascertain that they were not observed, they
removed a large rolling stone that blockaded the entrance, and went into
what appeared a natural cavern, then closing the inlet. Not a vestige of
them remained in sight, and nature seemed to reign alone amidst the
sublimest of her works.

Hope again glowed in the breast of Abad; he soon found means for
crossing the stream, and marched boldly to the very entrance of the
robber's cave, and with all his might attempted to roll the stone from
its axis. But here he was again doomed to disappointment: without the
possession of the talisman, kept by the captain of the band, he might
as well have attempted to roll the mountain on which he stood into the
water beneath, as to have shifted the massy portal: the strength of ten
thousand men, could their united efforts have been made available at one
and the same time, would not have been sufficient even to stir it.

Abad was returning, disappointed and murmuring at his fate, when
he bethought himself of the hammer which Muloch, the Spirit of the
Mountain, had promised should be of such powerful aid. He hastened to
the place where he had left the large instrument, and the next day
brought it to the robbers' cave. He was in the act of lifting the
massive weight, to have shattered the adamantine stoppage, when he
was