The acrid milk of camels, and their wells. And then a swarm of wandering horse, who came From far, and a more doubtful service owned,-- The Tartars of Ferghana, from the banks Of the Jaxartes, men with scanty beards And close-set skull-caps; and those wilder hordes Who roam o’er Kipchak and the northern waste, Kalmucks and unkempt Kuzzaks, tribes who stray Nearest the Pole, and wandering Kirghizzes, Who come on shaggy ponies from Pamere,-- These all filed out from camp into the plain. And on the other side the Persians formed,-- First a light cloud of horse, Tartars they seemed, The Ilyats of Khorassan; and behind, The royal troops of Persia, horse and foot, Marshalled battalions bright in burnished steel. But Peran-Wisa with his herald came, Threading the Tartar squadrons to the front, And with his staff kept back the foremost ranks. And when Ferood, who led the Persians, saw That Peran-Wisa kept the Tartars back, He took his spear, and to the front he came, And checked his ranks, and fixed them where they stood. And the old Tartar came upon the sand Betwixt the silent hosts, and spake, and said,-- “Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear! Let there be truce between the hosts to-day. But choose a champion from the Persian lords To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man.” As in the country, on a morn in June, When the dew glistens on the pearled ears, A shiver runs through the deep corn for joy,-- So, when they heard what Peran-Wisa said, A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran Of pride and hope for Sohrab, whom they loved. But as a troop of pedlers from Cabool Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus, That vast sky-neighboring mountain of milk snow; Crossing so high, that, as they mount, they pass Long flocks of travelling birds dead on the snow, Choked by the air, and scarce can they themselves Slake their parched throats with sugared mulberries; In single file they move, and stop their breath, For fear they should dislodge the o’erhanging snows,-- So the pale Persians held their breath with fear. And to Ferood his brother chiefs came up To counsel; Gudurz and Zoarrah came, And Feraburz, who ruled the Persian host Second, and was the uncle of the king; These came and counselled, and then Gudurz said,-- “Ferood, shame bids us take their challenge up, Yet champion have we none to match this youth. He has the wild stag’s foot, the lion’s heart. But Rustum came last night; aloof he sits And sullen, and has pitched his tents apart. Him will I seek, and carry to his ear The Tartar challenge, and this young man’s name; Haply he will forget his wrath, and fight. Stand forth the while, and take their challenge up.” So spake he; and Ferood stood forth and cried,--