Winning His Spurs: A Tale of the CrusadesHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
Winning His Spurs: A Tale of the Crusades
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Crusades -- Third, 1189-1192 -- Fiction
Here were people drawn from widely separated parts of Saladin's
dominions. Here were Nubians from the Nile, tall and powerful men, jet
black in skin, with lines of red and white paint on their faces, giving a
ghastly and wild appearance to them. On their shoulders were skins of
lions and other wild animals. They carried short bows, and heavy clubs
studded with iron. By them were the Bedouin cavalry, light, sinewy men,
brown as berries, with white turbans and garments. Near these were the
cavalry from Syria and the plains of Assyria--wild horsemen with
semi-barbarous armour and scarlet trappings. Here were the solid lines of
the Egyptian infantry, steady troops, upon whom Saladin much relied. Here
were other tribes, gathered from afar, each distinguished by its own
particular marks. In silence did this vast array view awhile the solid
mass of the Christians. Suddenly a strange din of discordant music from
thousands of musical instruments--conches and horns, cymbals and drums,
arose in wild confusion. Shouts of defiance in a dozen tongues and from
200,000 throats rose wild and shrill upon the air, while clear above all
the din were heard the strange vibratory cries of the warriors from the
Egyptian highlands.
"One would think," said Cnut grimly to Cuthbert, "that the infidels
imagine we are a flock of antelopes to be frightened by an outcry. They
would do far better to save their wind for future use. They will want it,
methinks, when we get fairly among them. Who would have thought that a
number of men, heathen and infidel though they be, could have made so
foul an outcry?"
Cuthbert laughed.
"Every one fights according to his own method, Cnut; and I am not sure
that there is not something to be said for this outcry, for it is really
so wild and fearful that it makes my blood almost curdle in my veins; and
were it not that I know the proved valour of our knights and footmen, I
should feel shaken by this terrible introduction to the fight."
"I heed it no more," said Cnut, "than the outcry of wild fowl, when one
comes upon them suddenly on a lake in winter. It means no more than that;
and I reckon that they are trying to encourage themselves fully as much
as to frighten us. However, we shall soon see. If they can fight as well
as they can scream, they certainly will get no answering shouts from us.
The English bulldog fights silently, and bite as hard as he will, you
will hear little beyond a low growl. Now, my men," he said, turning to
his archers, "methinks the heathen are about to begin in earnest. Keep
steady; do not fire until you are sure that they are within range. Draw
your bows well to your ears, and straightly and steadily let fly. Never
heed the outcry or the rush, keep steady to the last moment. There is
shelter behind you, and fierce as the attack may be, you can find a sure
refuge behind the line of the knights."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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