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Space Infinites Directory 06
Page 04
He took up his position between the towns of Pandosia and Heraclea, on the River Siris. The Romans, who were encamped on the other side of the river, were the first to begin the battle. They crossed the river, and were immediately attacked by the cavalry of Pyrrhus, who led them to the charge in person, and distinguished himself as usual by the most daring acts of valor. The Romans, however, bravely sustained the attack; and Pyrrhus, finding that his cavalry could not decide the day, ordered his infantry to advance. The battle was still contested most furiously: seven times did both armies advance and retreat; and it was not till Pyrrhus brought forward his elephants, which bore down every thing before them, that the Romans took to flight, leaving their camp to the conqueror (B.C. 280).
The Gaun Bagudzitash, or Dance of the Gods, is the one ceremony of the Apache that bears any material resemblance to the many Yebichai dances or "chants" of the Navaho, and even then the only feature common to the two is that the men, typifying gods, wear elaborate masks. The Apache are not unfamiliar with the making and employment of dry-paintings for the treatment of the sick, as has been seen. Originally the dry-paintings and the _gaun_, or gods, always appeared together, but in recent years the Gaun dance has been conducted preliminary to and as a part of medicine, puberty, and war ceremonies. Captain Bourke, in his "Medicine-men of the Apache" (Ninth Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1892), speaks of this as the Spirit or Ghost dance. Though performed infrequently now, as compared with other dances, on account of the expense and of disapproval by the agents, the Gaun Bagudzitash is unquestionably the most popular ceremony conducted by the Apache.
I have never seen Mendelssohn, but there is a fresco of him on the terrace, or open-air dining-room, of an inn at Chiavenna. He is not called Mendelssohn, but I knew him by his legs. He is in the costume of a dandy of some five-and-forty years ago, is smoking a cigar, and appears to be making an offer of marriage to his cook. Beethoven both my friend Mr. H. Festing Jones and I have had the good fortune to meet; he is an engineer now, and does not know one note from another; he has quite lost his deafness, is married, and is, of course, a little squat man with the same refractory hair that he always had. It was very interesting to watch him, and Jones remarked that before the end of dinner he had become positively posthumous. One morning I was told the Beethovens were going away, and before long I met their two heavy boxes being carried down the stairs. The boxes were so squab and like their owners, that I half thought for a moment that they were inside, and should hardly have been surprised to see them spring up like a couple of Jacks-in-thebox. "Sono indentro?" said I, with a frown of wonder, pointing to the boxes. The porters knew what I meant, and laughed. But there is no end to the list of people whom I have been able to recognise, and before I had got through it myself, I found I had walked some distance, and had involuntarily paused in front of a second-hand bookstall.
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