cannot fancy unknown even here among the deserts of Palestine?"

"It is not yet worth publishing," said the Christian. "Know,
however, that among the soldiers of the Cross I am called
Kenneth--Kenneth of the Couching Leopard; at home I have other
titles, but they would sound harsh in an Eastern ear. Brave
Saracen, let me ask which of the tribes of Arabia claims your
descent, and by what name you are known?"

"Sir Kenneth," said the Moslem, "I joy that your name is such as
my lips can easily utter. For me, I am no Arab, yet derive my
descent from a line neither less wild nor less warlike. Know,
Sir Knight of the Leopard, that I am Sheerkohf, the Lion of the
Mountain, and that Kurdistan, from which I derive my descent,
holds no family more noble than that of Seljook."

"I have heard," answered the Christian, "that your great Soldan
claims his blood from the same source?"

"Thanks to the Prophet that hath so far honoured our mountains as
to send from their bosom him whose word is victory," answered the
paynim. "I am but as a worm before the King of Egypt and Syria,
and yet in my own land something my name may avail. Stranger,
with how many men didst thou come on this warfare?"

"By my faith," said Sir Kenneth, "with aid of friends and
kinsmen, I was hardly pinched to furnish forth ten well-appointed
lances, with maybe some fifty more men, archers and varlets
included. Some have deserted my unlucky pennon--some have fallen
in battle--several have died of disease--and one trusty armour-bearer, for whose life I am now doing my