romised the soldiers rewards in land in case they
proved victorious. "I will give you each a farm," said he, "wherever
you choose to have it, either in Africa, Italy, or Spain. If, instead
of the land, any of you shall prefer to receive rather an equivalent
in money, you shall have the reward in that form, and then you can
return home and live with your friends, as before the war, under
circumstances which will make you objects of envy to those who
remained behind. If any of you would like to live in Carthage, I will
have you made free citizens, so that you can live there in
independence and honor."

But what security would there be for the faithful fulfillment of these
promises? In modern times such security is given by bonds, with
pecuniary penalties, or by the deposit of titles to property in
responsible hands. In ancient days they managed differently. The
promiser bound himself by some solemn and formal mode of adjuration,
accompanied, in important cases, with certain ceremonies, which were
supposed to seal and confirm the obligation assumed. In this case
Hannibal brought a lamb in the presence of the assembled army. He held
it before them with his left hand, while with his right he grasped a
heavy stone. He then called aloud upon the gods, imploring them to
destroy him as he was about to slay the lamb, if he failed to perform
faithfully and fully the pledges that he had made. He then struck the
poor lamb a heavy blow with the stone. The animal fell dead at his
feet, and Hannibal was thenceforth bound, in the opinion of the army,
by a very solemn obligation indeed, to be faithful in fulfilling his
word.

The soldiers were greatly animated and excited by these promises, and
were in haste to have the contest come on. The Roman soldiers, it
seems, were in a different mood of mind. Some circumstances had
occurred which they considered as bad omens, and they were very much
dispirited and depressed by them. It is astonishing that men should
ever allow their minds to be affected by such wholly accidental
occurrences as these were. One of them was this: a wolf came into
their camp, from one of the forests near, and after wounding several
men, made his escape again. The other was more trifling still. A swarm
of bees flew into the encampment, and lighted upon a tree just over
Scipio's tent. This was considered, for some reason or other, a sign
that some calamity was going to befall them, and the men were
accordingly intimi