ulas, true to his military obligation, rode on without even
turning to see whence and from what cause so unexpected and violent
an assault had proceeded.

The Sacian opened his eyes, looked around, and coolly asked who it was
that he had hit. Cyrus pointed to the horseman who was riding rapidly
away, saying, "That is the man, who is riding so fast past those
chariots yonder. You hit _him_."

"Why did he not turn back, then?" asked the Sacian.

"It is strange that he did not," said Cyrus; "he must be some madman."

The Sacian went in pursuit of him. He found Pheraulas with his face
covered with blood and dirt, and asked him if he had received a blow.
"I have," said Pheraulas, "as you see." "Then," said the Sacian, "I
make you a present of my horse." Pheraulas asked an explanation. The
Sacian accordingly gave him an account of what had taken place between
himself and Cyrus, and said, in the end, that he gladly gave him his
horse, as he, Pheraulas, had so decisively proved himself to be a most
worthy man.

Pheraulas accepted the present, with many thanks, and he and the
Sacian became thereafter very strong friends.

Some time after this, Pheraulas invited the Sacian to an
entertainment, and when the hour arrived, he set before his friend and
the other guests a most sumptuous feast, which was served in vessels
of gold and silver, and in an apartment furnished with carpets, and
canopies, and couches of the most gorgeous and splendid description.
The Sacian was much impressed with this magnificence, and he asked
Pheraulas whether he had been a rich man at home, that is, before he
had joined Cyrus's army. Pheraulas replied that he was not then rich.
His father, he said, was a farmer, and he himself had been accustomed
in early life to till the ground with the other laborers on his
father's farm. All the wealth and luxury which he now enjoyed had been
bestowed upon him, he said, by Cyrus.

"How fortunate you are!" said the Sacian; "and it must be that you
enjoy your present riches all the more highly on account of having
experienced in early life the inconveniences and ills of poverty. The
pleasure must be more intense in having desires which have long been
felt gratified at last than if the objects which they rested upon had
been always in one's possession."

"You imagine, I suppose," replied Pheraulas, "that I am a great deal
happier in consequence of all this wealth and splendor; but it is not
so. As to the real en