The Turks had the wild music which they love to encourage their fighting men, kettle-drums and pipes, cymbals and trumpets. The horse-tails of the Pashas streamed from the poops of their galleys, as with loud cries they appealed to Allah to deliver the Christian dogs once more into their hands. And there was every reason to suppose that their wish would be fulfilled, for they had the stronger force, and carried with them the prestige of former victories won over the best efforts of the Christians. THE BATTLE. On the morning of the memorable 7th of October the Christian fleet weighed anchor for Lepanto, at two hours before dawn. The wind was light, but adverse, and oars had to be used. At sunrise they came up with a group of rocky islets which form the northern cape of the Gulf of Lepanto. The rowers labored hard at the oars, while all others strained their eyes for the first glimpse of the great Moslem fleet. At length they were descried from the masthead of the _Real_, and almost at the same moment by Andrew Doria, who commanded on the right. [Illustration: BATTLE OF LEPANTO.] Don John ordered his pennon to be displayed, unfurled the banner of the Christian League, and fired a gun, the preconcerted signal for battle. This was answered by an exultant shout from all the ships. The principal captains now came on board the _Real_, to receive their final orders; and a few, even then, doubted the propriety of fighting, but Don John sternly said, “Gentlemen, this is the time for battle, and not for counsel!” and the armada was at once deployed in fighting array, according to orders previously issued. When ready for battle the Christian force had a front of three miles. On the extreme right was Doria, whose name was justly held in terror by the Moslem, with sixty-four galleys. In the centre, consisting of sixty-three galleys, was Don John, supported on one side by Colonna, and on the other by Veniero. In his rear was the Grand Commander Requesens, his former tutor in military matters. The left wing was commanded by Barberigo, a Venetian noble, who was to keep his vessels as near the Ætolian coast as the rocks and shoals would permit, to prevent his wing being turned by the enemy. The reserve, of thirty-five galleys, was commanded by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, a man of known courage and conduct, who had orders to act in any quarter where he thought his aid most needed. The smaller craft took little part in the battle, the action being fought almost entirely by the galleys. Each commander was to take space enough for manœuvring, yet to keep so close as to prevent the enemy from piercing the line. Each was to single out his adversary, close with him, and board as soon as possible. Don John had the beak of his galley cut away; so little did he rely upon an instrument once, and for so long, considered formidable.