But the army lacked some of its former leaders. Count Stephen, of Chartres, and the Count of Vermandois, weary of hardships, had returned to France,—there to face the bitter scorn of all Europe. Bohemond remained in Antioch as ruler of the city his cunning had won. Baldwin, who had established himself as prince of the rich city, Edessa, thought no more about Jerusalem. This conduct of Baldwin grieved his brother deeply, and it was with a saddened heart that the pious Godfrey now led his army toward Jerusalem.
Marching along the coast, the Crusaders soon neared Ptolemais. The emir of that city sent them supplies, and promised to surrender it to them as soon as they should conquer Jerusalem. The princes had not intended to attack Ptolemais and were delighted at this unexpected promise. But the falseness of the Mohammedan was soon revealed to them in a strange way. For soon after, while the army was encamped near Cæsarea, the Bishop of Apt, sitting before his tent one day, saw a large falcon in pursuit of a dove. Fluttering swiftly downward, the tiny bird escaped the claws of its pursuer and fell at the feet of the bishop. The kind priest picked it up carefully, and was tenderly smoothing its ruffled plumage when he saw a letter tied under its wing. Setting the trembling bird free, the bishop hastened to the tent where the princes were holding council. Godfrey broke the seal, and with an exclamation of surprise read the letter aloud.
It was from the Emir of Ptolemais to the Emir of Cæsarea, and ran thus:—
"The cursed race of Christians have just passed through my territory, and will soon reach thine. Let the chiefs of all the Mussulman cities be warned of their approach and let them take measures to crush our enemies."
The princes were much astonished on hearing this, and Godfrey exclaimed,—
"Surely we cannot doubt that God is with us, since He sends the birds of the air to reveal to us the secrets of our enemies!"
So said all the soldiers when the letter was read to them, and they pursued their journey with new enthusiasm and stronger hope.
On a night not long after, the Crusaders were watching with awe an eclipse of the moon. Suddenly the momentary darkness passed away, and the lurid light of a blood-red moon shone down. But their terror at this strange sight was changed to joy when "those familiar with the signs of the stars" said,—
"This doth portend the fall of the infidels and the triumph of Christ's army!"
The following day, at sunrise, the Crusaders climbed to the summit of the hills of Emmaus, when—