in the great struggle for empire.  At the time the war began Carthage was already corrupt to the core, and although she might have enslaved many nations she would never have civilized them.  Rome gave free institutions to the people she conquered, she subdued but she never enslaved them, but rather strove to plant her civilization among them and to raise them to her own level.  Carthage, on the contrary, was from the first a cruel mistress to the people she conquered.  Consequently while all the peoples of Italy rallied round Rome in the days of her distress, the tribes subject to Carthage rose in insurrection against her as soon as the presence of a Roman army gave them a hope of escape from their bondage.

Had Carthage conquered Rome in the struggle she could never have extended her power over the known world as Rome afterwards did, but would have fallen to pieces again from the weakness of her institutions and the corruption of her people.  Thus then, although we may feel sympathy for the failure and fate of the noble and chivalrous Hannibal himself, we cannot regret that Rome came out conqueror in the strife, and was left free to carry out her great work of civilization.

Yours sincerely,

G. A. Henty

CHAPTER I:  THE CAMP IN THE DESERT

It is afternoon, but the sun’s rays still pour down with great power upon rock and sand.  How great the heat has been at midday may be seen by the quivering of the air as it rises from the ground and blurs all distant objects.  It is seen, too, in the attitudes and appearance of a large body of soldiers encamped in a grove.  Their arms are thrown aside, the greater portion of their clothing has been dispensed with.  Some lie stretched on the ground in slumber, their faces protected from any chance rays which may find their way through the foliage above by little shelters composed of their clothing hung on two bows or javelins.  Some, lately awakened, are sitting up or leaning against the trunks of the trees, but scarce one has energy to move.

The day has indeed been a hot one even for the southern edge of the Libyan desert.  The cream coloured oxen stand with their heads down, lazily whisking away with their tails the flies that torment them.  The horses standing near suffer more; the lather stands on their sides, their flanks heave, and from time to time they stretch out their extended nostrils in the direction from which, when the sun sinks a little lower, the breeze will begin to blow.

The occupants of the grove are men of varied races, and, although there is no attempt at military order, it is clear at once that they are divided into three parties.  One is composed of men more swarthy than the others.  They are lithe and active in figure, inured to hardship, accustomed to the burning sun.  Light shields hang against the trees with bows and gaily painted quivers full of arrows, and