The army of Boemond, hastily drawn up, presented a mingled front of horse and foot soldiers, and pilgrims,[252] some but half-armed, some not armed at all; while the Turks came down in one torrent of cavalry. The immense numbers which it contained all blazing with glittering arms, and provided with bows of horn and scimitars, dazzled and dismayed the troops of the Christians. As the infidels approached, the European Chivalry dropped the points of their long lances, and prepared to hurl back their foes, as was their wont, by the heavy and decided charge which proved always so effective; but suddenly, each Moslem raised his bow even as he galloped forward,[253] a thick cloud seemed to come over the sun, and then, two hundred thousand arrows dropping at once among the crusaders, a multitude[254] of men and horses were instantly stretched upon the plain. Before the Christians could rally from the surprise, a second flight of arrows followed the first, doing dreadful execution among the foot-soldiers and the steeds of the knights.[255] But now Tancred and Boemond led on their troops to the charge, and spurred their horses into the midst of the enemy. The Turks, as was their habit, yielded ground on every side, avoiding, by the swiftness of their chargers, the lances and the swords of the Christians, and, like the Parthians of old, continuing their fearful archery even as they fled. Vain were all the efforts of the European Chivalry, though, throwing away their useless spears, they endeavoured to reach the Turks with their swords;[256] but now, in turn, the swarming multitudes of their foes, pouring down fresh from the mountains on every side, no longer retreated, but pressed closer and closer upon them; and as each adversary fell beneath the vigorous blows of the knights, new foes started up to meet them. In the mean while, thick and fast was mown the flower of the Christian army. The brother of Tancred, famed alike for his beauty and his courage, was slain before the eyes of his relation.[257] Tancred himself, surrounded by a thousand enemies, fought as if Fate had put the weapon in his hands, but fought in vain. Boemond, with all his efforts, could scarcely extricate his gallant cousin from the torrent of adversaries in the midst of which he struggled, and even then it was with the loss of the banner of Otranto.[258] Borne back by the growing multitude that pressed upon them, the knights gave way before the Saracens, and were driven struggling upon the very pikes[259] of the foot-soldiers that were advancing to their support. At the same time Soliman, whose numbers gave him the means of surrounding the army of the crusaders, directed several large bodies of his cavalry through some marshes to the rear of the Christians, and in a moment the camp[260] of Boemond was invaded and deluged with the blood of the old, the women, and the helpless![261]