ily thinned, not only by the desertion of individuals, but of
entire bands, headed by their respective feudal leaders, who withdrew
from a contest in which they had ceased to hope for success.

The effects of the climate became, as usual, fatal to soldiers from
the north, and the more so that the dissolute license of the Crusaders,
forming a singular contrast to the principles and purpose of their
taking up arms, rendered them more easy victims to the insalubrious
influence of burning heat and chilling dews. To these discouraging
causes of loss was to be added the sword of the enemy. Saladin, than
whom no greater name is recorded in Eastern history, had learned, to
his fatal experience, that his light-armed followers were little able to
meet in close encounter with the iron-clad Franks, and had been taught,
at the same time, to apprehend and dread the adventurous character of
his antagonist Richard. But if his armies were more than once routed
with great slaughter, his numbers gave the Saracen the advantage in
those lighter skirmishes, of which many were inevitable.

As the army of his assailants decreased, the enterprises of the Sultan
became more numerous and more bold in this species of petty warfare. The
camp of the Crusaders was surrounded, and almost besieged, by clouds of
light cavalry, resembling swarms of wasps, easily crushed when they are
once grasped, but furnished with wings to elude superior strength, and
stings to inflict harm and mischief. There was perpetual warfare of
posts and foragers, in which many valuable lives were lost, without
any corresponding object being gained; convoys were intercepted, and
communications were cut off. The Crusaders had to purchase the means
of sustaining life, by life itself; and water, like that of the well of
Bethlehem, longed for by King David, one of its ancient monarchs, was
then, as before, only obtained by the expenditure of blood.

These evils were in a great measure counterbalanced by the stern
resolution and restless activity of King Richard, who, with some of his
best knights, was ever on horseback, ready to repair to any point where
danger occurred, and often not only bringing unexpected succour to the
Christians, but discomfiting the infidels when they seemed most secure
of victory. But even the iron frame of Coeur de Lion could not support
without injury the alternations of the unwholesome climate, joined to
ceaseless exertions of body and mind. He became af