oke forth into
revilings and heaped curses upon his name.

Their next emotion, of course, was in favor of Boabdil. They gathered
under the walls of the Alhambra and hailed him as their only hope, as
the sole dependence of the country. Boabdil could scarcely believe his
senses when he heard his name mingled with praises and greeted with
acclamations. Encouraged by this unexpected gleam of popularity, he
ventured forth from his retreat and was received with rapture. All his
past errors were attributed to the hardships of his fortune and the
usurpation of his tyrant uncle, and whatever breath the populace could
spare from uttering curses on El Zagal was expended in shouts in honor
of El Chico.

CHAPTER LXXXVI.

HOW BOABDIL EL CHICO TOOK THE FIELD, AND HIS EXPEDITION AGAINST
ALHENDIN.

For thirty days had the Vega been overrun by the Christian forces, and
that vast plain, late so luxuriant and beautiful, was one wide scene of
desolation. The destroying army, having accomplished its task, passed
over the bridge of Pinos and wound up into the mountains on the way to
Cordova, bearing away the spoils of towns and villages and driving off
flocks and herds in long dusty columns. The sound of the last Christian
trumpet died away along the side of the mountain of Elvira, and not a
hostile squadron was seen glistening on the mournful fields of the Vega.

The eyes of Boabdil el Chico were at length opened to the real policy of
King Ferdinand, and he saw that he had no longer anything to depend
upon but the valor of his arm. No time was to be lost in hastening to
counteract the effect of the late Christian ravage and

in opening the channel for distant supplies to Granada.

Scarcely had the retiring squadrons of Ferdinand disappeared among the
mountains when Boabdil buckled on his armor, sallied forth from the
Alhambra, and prepared to take the field. When the populace beheld him
actually in arms against his late ally, both parties thronged with zeal
to his standard. The hardy inhabitants also of the Sierra Nevada, or
chain of snow-capped mountains which rise above Granada, descended from
their heights and hastened into the city gates to proffer their devotion
to their youthful king. The great square of the Vivarrambla shone
with legions of cavalry decked with the colors and devices of the most
ancient Moorish families, and marshalled forth by the patriot Muza to
follow the king to battle.

It was on the 15th of June t