his scimitar, in the other he held a Koran, from
which he read those passages of inspiration to the Moslems which promised
the delights of Paradise to those who should fall in a holy war and the
torments of hell to the coward who should desert his ranks.

The next day was Sunday. The Moslems, eager for battle, stood all day in
line, but the Christians declined to fight, occupying themselves in
arranging their different corps. Night descended without a skirmish. But
this could not continue with the two armies so closely face to face. One
side or the other must surely attack on the following day. At midnight
heralds called the Christians to mass and prayer. Everywhere priests were
busy confessing and shriving the soldiers. The sound of the furbishing of
arms mingled with the strains of religious service. At the dawn of the
next day both hosts were drawn up in battle array. The great struggle was
about to begin.

The army of the Moors, said to contain three hundred thousand regular
troops and seventy-five thousand irregulars, was drawn up in crescent
shape in front of the imperial tent,--in the centre the vast host of the
Almohades, the tribes of the desert on the wings, in advance the
light-armed troops. The Christian host was formed in four legions, King
Alfonso occupying the centre, his banner bearing an effigy of the Virgin.
With him were Rodrigo Ximenes, the archbishop of Toledo, and many other
prelates. The force was less than one hundred thousand strong, some of the
crusaders having left it in the march.

The sun was not high when the loud sound of the Christian trumpets and the
Moorish _atabals_ gave signal for the fray, and the two hosts surged
forward to meet in fierce assault. Sternly and fiercely the battle went
on, the struggling multitudes swaying in the ardor of the fight,--now the
Christians, now the Moslems surging forward or driven back. With
difficulty the thin ranks of the Christians bore the onsets of their
densely grouped foes, and at length King Alfonso, in fear for the result,
turned to the prelate Rodrigo and exclaimed,--

"Archbishop, you and I must die here."

"Not so," cried the bold churchman. "Here we must triumph over our
enemies."

"Then let us to the van, where we are sorely needed, for, indeed, our
lines are being bitterly pressed."

Nothing backward, the archbishop followed the king. Fernan Garcia, one of
the king's cavaliers, urged him to wait for aid, but Alfonso, commending
him