The Hellenes now discovered for the first time that they were intended to march on for hundreds of miles into the very heart of the Persian empire, and then risk their lives in battle against the Great King, of whose boundless resources they had often heard. For such a mad enterprise as this, they had not been engaged, they said, and they would never have agreed to enter upon it. For, putting aside the extreme length of the march to Susa, how could they expect that in case the hopes of Cyrus should be doomed to disappointment, it would be possible for them, a mere handful of strangers in an unknown country, to break through the ranks of the enemy, and make their way back to their own land? The Hellene mercenaries were no mere collection of soldiers of fortune, picked up anywhere, and ready to undertake any service. On the contrary, they were, for the most part, respectable citizens of Hellas, who had taken service under Cyrus, with the expectation of soon returning to their families laden with spoil. Every day their murmurs became louder, as their suspicions received additional confirmation, and at Tarsus they made a formal protest, declaring to the officers who had enlisted them, that they were betrayed, and that nothing would induce them to go a step farther. Almost all the officers were of the same mind, but there was one who thought otherwise. This was Clearchus the Spartan, a man who had received from Cyrus many favours, and who was anxious to prove his gratitude by doing his utmost to forward the prince’s wishes. To Cyrus the ultimate decision of the Hellene troops was of the gravest consequence; in his mind there was no question that the success of his plans depended on his being able to reckon upon their help. Clearchus was at this time about fifty years of age. He possessed the entire confidence of Cyrus, and was in fact the only person who had been told from the first the real, though secret, object of the expedition. He was a man born to be a soldier. A quiet, easy life in his native land was an existence altogether without charm for him; war, with all its dangers and hardships, was his natural element, and into this favourite pursuit he threw all the energy of his character. He personally supervised the provisioning of his men, and this was only one instance of the extreme care with which he attended to every detail. Nothing that could contribute to the efficiency of his company was too insignificant for his notice.