of the Moor, his troops clustering about them and his
infidel banners floating against the sky. Columns of smoke rose where
the night-fires had blazed, and the clash of the Moorish cymbal, the
bray of trumpet, and the neigh of steed were faintly heard from the airy
heights. So pure and transparent is the atmosphere in this region
that every object can be distinctly seen at a great distance, and the
Christians were able to behold the formidable hosts of fires gathering
on the summits of the surrounding mountains.

One of the first measures of the Moorish king was to detach a large
force, under Reduan de Vanegas, alcayde of Granada, to fall upon the
convoy of ordnance, which stretched for a great distance through the
mountain-defiles. Ferdinand had anticipated this attempt, and sent the
commander of Leon with a body of horse and foot to reinforce the master
of Alcantara. El Zagal from his mountain-height beheld the detachment
issue from the camp, and immediately recalled Reduan. The armies
now remained quiet for a time, the Moor looking grimly down upon the
Christian camp, like a tiger meditating a bound upon his prey. The
Christians were in fearful jeopardy--a hostile city below them, a
powerful army above them, and on every side mountains filled with
implacable foes.

After El Zagal had maturely considered the situation of the Christian
camp, and informed himself of all the passes of the mountain, he
conceived a plan to surprise the enemy which he flattered himself would
ensure their ruin and perhaps the capture of King Ferdinand. He wrote
a letter to the alcayde of the city, commanding him in the dead of the
night, on a signal-fire being made from the mountain, to sally forth
with all his troops and fall furiously upon the Christian camp. The king
would, at the same time, rush down with his army from the mountain, and
assail it on the opposite side, thus overwhelming it at the hour of deep
repose. This letter he despatched by a renegado Christian, who knew all
the secret roads of the country, and if taken could pass himself for a
Christian who had escaped from captivity.

El Zagal, confident in his stratagem, looked down upon the Christians
as his devoted victims. As the sun went down and the long shadows of the
mountains stretched across the vega, he pointed with exultation to the
camp below, apparently unconscious of the impending danger. "Behold,"
said he, "the unbelievers are delivered into our hands; their king