The nature of the locality made it more difficult to find the way in some places than it was in the mountain region, where the wild torrents which dashed from the rocks in the rainy season left dry beds which could be used as pathways. The dense foliage of the trees also hardly allowed the moonlight to penetrate it, and more than once Raymond was in doubt whether he was on the right road. He tried other directions several times but this invariably made his horse restless and ungovernable. At last he decided to let it take its own way, for he was well aware that the horse is often the surest guide. The noble animal must have travelled that way many times while he himself was going over it for the first time, and besides this he had but little time to study his way. Stroking his horse, who had already become very dear to him, as if to compensate him for the injustice done to his sagacity, he let him choose his own way. As it no longer seemed necessary to make such great haste he rode more quietly and found by the position of the moon, which at times peeped through openings in the trees, that he was now riding in the right direction to reach the end of his journey.
Raymond’s Ride
As Raymond slowly climbed the heights and grew calmer, he almost forgot all dangers, for he felt he was near his friends and supposed that his wearied enemies would not risk a near approach to their still formidable opponents in the camp by daylight. He actually imagined that he saw the white tents of the Christians glistening in the moonlight, where treeless vistas admitted an open view. His heart leaped for joy as he reflected that he was bringing consolation and encouragement to so many thousands, and a tear stood in his eyes as he thought of their suffering and fancied the joyful impression his news would make. He pursued his way almost carelessly. He was nearing the end of his journey and gave little heed to his surroundings. It is not singular, therefore, that he was alarmed by a sudden noise. Looking back he saw that he was followed. He thought that three horsemen, riding furiously, were seeking to overtake him, hoping to capture him by surprise rather than by attack.
Raymond slackened his pace an instant to ascertain the real nature of his danger and the best means of avoiding it. It was impossible for him to make a successful resistance, for even should he escape their arrows he must have a hand-to-hand contest, one against three, and give up as soon as he was surrounded by them. He was all the more helpless against numbers as he had lost his lance and had only his sword for protection. Flight was his only alternative, and he felt sure that once out of arrow-shot he would escape.
Throwing his shield across his back he urged his horse to its greatest speed. It shot away like an arrow. The hanging boughs of the trees often brushed his face and he repeatedly crashed through thickets of dense bushes, which snapped and broke. It was like the magic wild hunt for the slender, swift stag of the forest, so quiet were the hoof-beats. Notwithstanding all the efforts of his noble steed he gained no advantage over his pursuers. In an incredibly short time they approached him at the foot of the range. Raymond could see no trace of the camp, not even a sentry. Had he been deceived when he thought he saw the tents? Were his friends still farther away than he had supposed? What if his pursuers should be taking different routes to head him off? Looking around with hasty glance he noticed that only two were now following him. He had been carefully instructed by his father not to act upon guesswork but to have a fixed course always in view for an emergency. He decided to give battle only as a last resort, but he was determined that two of them should die before he lost his life. Saying to himself “With God’s help, I will win,” he rode on.
He soon realized that the distance between himself and his pursuers was lessening. One of the latter must have noticed it also, for he had taken his bow and was holding an arrow in his right hand. Raymond felt a terrible apprehension that he might be killed almost at the goal he was striving to reach. The road now turned a little to the left and caution was still more necessary. An arrow grazed his face. Had his horse made its last step an instant sooner or an inch farther, he might have fallen and been trampled upon. He had hardly time to realize this, however, when a Turk with fiercely gleaming eyes rode out of the thickets. Swinging his scymitar he confronted Raymond, who met him with his sword. The horses came together at such furious speed that the Turk was thrown, and Raymond’s steed came down upon his knees. He was down for an instant only, for his rider helped him to his feet with a stout pull and he at once dashed on, while the Turk’s horse was panting and snorting, evidently as much enraged as his master, who sent curses after Raymond as he rode along exultantly.
Suddenly a halberdier confronted him. His horse stopped so quickly that Raymond was nearly thrown. It was a foot-soldier of the Emperor’s army and at his call several others came up. How grateful that call in the dear mother tongue sounded! His only thought was, “Saved, saved.” He made himself known, pointed to his enemies, who shot their arrows and shouted curses at them, and then took themselves off.
Raymond explained to the outposts the nature of his mission in a few words. Then he inquired the shortest way to the Emperor’s tent, and as he hurried on his way to it the warriors’ eyes beamed with joy and their lips uttered thanksgivings. Raymond’s message was received with general exultation. The warriors rushed up to him, caressed and kissed him, and could hardly find words to express their joy. Weariness and despondency vanished. The shout, “Forward, forward,” resounded everywhere. After hearing Raymond’s report, to the great delight of all, the Emperor issued the order to move. Tents were struck at once, and the advance, led by Raymond, plunged into the darkness of the forest, while the rest followed as eagerly as if on the way to some richly appointed banquet.
Though the fresh night air lessened their fatigue somewhat, it was still very great. The tired soldiers, little refreshed by their short sleep, dragged themselves along with much effort. It was so dark they could not distinguish the rough places in the road. Their weary feet continually slipped and those on foot repeatedly fell, while horses stumbled over roots of trees and other obstacles. The farther they went the more unmistakable were the evidences that the Turks were aware of their movements and were on the alert themselves. Those in the advance had to look out for themselves as best they could, but even after the utmost precautions many horses were badly wounded and some of the poorly protected foot-soldiers were killed.