...
Dufresnoy tells me that those barren slopes where the mines lie, and where
the different races now work together in apparent amity, were once the
scene of a sanguinary primitive battle. There is a steep gully at one
point, a dry torrent; the Khabyles lived on one side of it, the
Tripolitans on the other, and between these two races there occurred, on a
starlit night in May, 1905, an affray of unearthly ferocity.
The Khabyles, prudent folk, many of whom had served in the French Army,
had long been laying in a store of warlike provisions; their secret was
well kept, although it was observed that piles of stones were being
collected round their huts, and that a goodly quantity of dynamite and
petroleum was missing from the stores; some of them possessed guns and
revolvers, the rest were armed with knives, daggers and savage mining
gear. They chose a Sunday for the attack, well knowing that the
Tripolitans, who are good-natured simpletons, would be least prepared to
resist them on that day, and half of them in a state of jollification; and
they were so sagacious, that they actually induced a few drunken
Tripolitans to insult them, before beginning the conflict.
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