They attack Hannibal.
The elephants.
Hannibal was right in his suspicions. The embassage was a stratagem. The men
who sent it had laid an ambuscade in a very narrow pass, concealing their forces in thickets and in chasms, and in nooks and corners among the rugged rocks, and
when the guides had led the army well into the danger, a sudden signal was given, and these concealed enemies rushed down upon them in great numbers, breaking into their ranks, and renewing the scene of terrible uproar, tumult, and destruction which had been witnessed in the other defile. One would have thought that the elephants, being so unwieldy and so helpless in such a scene, would have been the first objects of attack. But it was not so. The mountaineers were afraid of them. They had never seen such animals before, and they felt for
them a mysterious awe, not knowing what terrible powers such enormous beasts
might be expected to wield. They kept away from them, therefore, and from the
horsemen, and poured down upon the head of the column of foot soldiers which
followed in the rear.
Hannibal's army divided.
They were quite successful at the first onset. They broke through the head of the column, and drove the rest back. The horses and elephants, in the mean time, moved forward, bearing the baggage with them, so that the two portions of the
army were soon entirely separated. Hannibal was behind, with the soldiers. The
mountaineers made good their position, and, as night came on, the contest ceased, for in such wilds as these no one can move at all, except with the light of day. The mountaineers, however, remained in their place, dividing the army, and
Hannibal continued, during the night, in a state of great suspense and anxiety, with the elephants and the baggage separated from him and apparently at the mercy of the enemy.
Hannibal's attack on the mountaineers.
They embarrass his march.
During the night he made vigorous preparations for attacking the mountaineers
the next day. As soon as the morning light appeared, he made the attack, and he
succeeded in driving the enemy away, so far, at least, as to allow him to get his army together again. He then began once more to move on. The mountaineers, however, hovered about his way, and did all they could to molest and embarrass
his march. They concealed themselves in ambuscades, and attacked the
Carthaginians as they passed. They rolled stones down upon them, or discharged
spears and arrows from eminences above; and if any of Hannibal's army became,
from any reason, detached from the rest, they would cut off their retreat, and then take them prisoners or destroy them. Thus they gave Hannibal a great deal
of trouble. They harassed his march continually, without presenting at any point a force which he could meet and encounter in battle. Of course, Hannibal could
no longer trust to his guides, and he was obliged to make his way as he best could, sometimes right, but often wrong, and exposed to a thousand difficulties
and dangers, which those acquainted with the country might have easily avoided.
All this time the mountaineers were continually attacking him, in bands like those of robbers, sometimes in the van, and sometimes in the rear, wherever the
nature of the ground or the circumstances of the marching army afforded them an opportunity.
Hannibal's indomitable perseverance.
Hannibal persevered, however, through all these discouragements, protecting his
men as far as it was in his power, but pressing earnestly on, until in nine days he reached the summit. By the summit, however, is not meant the summit of the mountains, but the summit of the pass, that is, the highest point which it was necessary for him to attain in going over. In all mountain ranges there are depressions, which are in Switzerland called necks,[A] and the pathways and roads over the ranges lie always in these. In America, such a depression in a ridge of land, if well marked and decided, is called a notch. Hannibal attained the highest point of the col, by which he was to pass over, in nine days after the great battle. There were, however, of course, lofty peaks and summits towering
still far above him.
He encamps.
Return of straggling parties.
He encamped here two days to rest and refresh his men. The enemy no longer molested him. In fact, parties were continually coming into the camp, of men and horses, that had got lost, or had been left in the valleys below. They came in slowly, some wounded, others exhausted and spent by fatigue and exposure. In
some cases horses came in alone. They were horses that had slipped or stumbled,
and fallen among the rocks, or had sunk down exhausted by their toil, and had
thus been left behind, and afterward, recovering their strength, had followed on, led by a strange instinct to keep to the tracks which their companions had made, and thus they rejoined the camp at last in safety.
Dreary scenery of the summit.
Storms in the mountains.
