The Cid knew nothing of the coming of this host, and one morning his sentinels, pacing the walls of Alcocer, were surprised to see the surrounding country alive with Moorish scouts, flitting from point to point upon their active jennets, and shaking their scimitars in menace. His own outposts soon brought in word that he was surrounded, and his knights and men-at-arms clamoured to be led forth to do battle with the infidels. But the Cid was old in Moorish warfare, and denied them for the moment. For days the enemy paraded around the walls of Alcocer. But the Cid, with three hundred men, knew well the folly of attacking three thousand, and bided his time. The Combat with the Moorish King At last the Moors succeeded in cutting off the water-supply of Alcocer. Provisions, too, were running low, and the Cid saw clearly that such a desperate situation demanded a desperate remedy. Alvar Fañez, ever panting for the fight like a war-horse that hears the trumpet, urged an immediate sally in force, and the Cid, knowing the high spirit of his men, consented. First he sent all the Moors out of the city and looked to its defences. Then, leaving but two men to guard the gate, he marshalled his array and issued forth from Alcocer with dressed ranks and in strict order of battle. And here prose must once more give place to verse. [31] Huzza! huzza! the Moorman mounts and waves his crescent blade Hark to the thunder of the drums, the trump's fanfaronade! Around two glittering gonfanons the paynim take their stand, Beneath each waving banner's folds is massed a swarthy band. The turbaned sons of Termagaunt sweep onward like the sea; So trust they to engulf and drown the Christian chivalry. "Now gentles, keep ye fast your seats," cries the Campeador, "And hold your ranks, for such a charge saw never knight before." But the fierce heart of Bermuez that echoed to the drum, Cried, "Santiago, shall I stay the while these heathen come? With this bold banner shall I pierce yon pride of paynimrie. So follow, follow, cavaliers, for Spain and Christendie!" "Nay, comrade, stay!" implored the Cid, but Pero shook his head. His hand was loose upon the rein. "It may not be," he said; Then in his destrier's flank he drove the bright speed-making spur: Like a spray-scattering ship he clove the sands of Alcocer. Lost in a sea of Saracens, whose turbans surge as foam, He stands unshaken as a cliff when on its bosom come Madness of ocean and the wrath of seas that overwhelm. So rain the hounds of Máhomet fierce blows on shield and helm. "A rescue, rescue," cries the Cid, "and strike for Holy Rood! Up, gentlemen of Old Castile, and charge the heathen brood!" As forth the hound when from the leash the hunter's hand is ta'en, As the unhooded falcon bounds, her jesses cast amain, But fiercer far than falcon or the hound's unleashèd zeal