56 EXPEDITION INTO [Chap. VII. 



attack was at hand. Enveloped in a great coat, with 

 a red worsted night-cap on his raven pate, and pour- 

 ing out a flood of smoke from a broken clay pipe 

 which garnished one corner of his mouth, he sat on 

 the box of the baggage-waggon looking the very 

 picture of despair — and as he thought of his fat wife 

 and helpless family, with the improbability of his 

 never seeing them again, his .feelings quite over- 

 powered him and he wept aloud. Never was the 

 heart of a hen partridge concealed beneath so bushy 

 and so black a beard. We incontinently dubbed 

 him Coexir de Lion, and he bore the surname ever 

 afterwards. 



