How long they were in preparing for this expedition we do not know, but it was made on a large scale. An army of seventy thousand men landed on the western corner of the island, brought thither by a fleet of two hundred triremes and one thousand transports. In the army were ten thousand heavy-armed Carthaginians, who carried white shields and wore elaborate breastplates. Among these were many of the rich men of Carthage, who brought with them costly baggage and rich articles of gold and silver. Twenty-five hundred of them were called the Sacred Band of Carthage. That great city had rarely before made such a determined effort at conquest. Timoleon was not idle in the face of this great invasion. But the whole army he could muster was but twelve thousand strong, a pitiable total to meet so powerful a foe. And as he marched to meet the enemy distrust and fear marched in his ranks. Such was the dread that one division of the army, one thousand strong, mutinied and deserted, and it needed all his personal influence to keep the rest together. Yet Timoleon had in him the spirit that commands success. He pushed on with his disheartened force until near the river Crimesus, beyond which was encamped the great army of Carthage. Some mules laden with parsley met the Corinthians on the road. Parsley was used for the wreaths laid on tombstones. It seemed a fatal omen. But Timoleon, with the quickness of genius, seized some of it, wove a wreath for his head, and cried, "This is our Corinthian symbol of victory: it is the sacred herb with which we decorate the victors at the Isthmian festival. Its coming signifies success." With these encouraging words he restored the spirits of the army, and led them on to the top of the hill overlooking the Crimesus. It was a misty May morning. Nothing could be seen; but from the valley a loud noise and clatter arose. The Carthaginians were on the march, and had begun to cross the stream. Soon the mist rose and the formidable host was seen. A multitude of war-chariots, each drawn by four horses, had already crossed. The ten thousand native Carthaginians, bearing their white shields, were partly across. The main body of the host was hastening in disorderly march to the rugged banks of the stream. Fortune had favored Timoleon again. If he hoped for success this was the moment to attack. The enemy was divided and in disorder. With cheery words he bade his men to charge. The cavalry dashed on in front. Seizing a shield, Timoleon sprang to the front and led on his footmen, rousing them to activity by exultant words and bidding the trumpets to sound. Rushing down the hill and through the line of chariots, the charging mass poured on the Carthaginian infantry. These fought bravely and defied the Grecian spears with the strength of their armor. The assailants had to take to their swords, and try and hew their way through the dense ranks of the foe.