Judas silently watched until their masses and armaments were at the point where the hills gave them least freedom of movement, then his signal poured suddenly the entire patriot army upon the advancing foe. They struck the Greek column in front. When Lycias had succeeded in deploying to meet the attack from that direction, his agile assailants slipped to either side, and, scaling the hills, descended upon him as a flood makes every depression its channel. Everywhere the Jews had advantage of higher ground, each cubit of which was familiar to them. They knew the outlet of every pathway, as deer know their runways to water. Their captains had marked the rocks which companies of tens or threes could use as breastworks. They had gauged the distance for arrow or spear or slingstone between these natural forts and the open spaces the foe must cross, so that their aim was unerring. The Greeks, attempting to turn from the threatened impact in front, were met at disadvantage by half-concealed Maccabæans, whose deadly shots slaughtered them before they could locate the source of attack. Upon the hastily formed roofs of linked shields, the noted phalanx of the Greek, the Jews hurled great boulders, crashing through brass and bone. The air was darkened with flying missiles, which dropped like a storm of hail upon those in that open valley.
The cry "Mi-camo-ca-ba" echoed seemingly from the very sky. In their blind rage to open ways of reaching the enemy or of flight, the Greeks assailed one another, as the scorpion stings itself to death. Before nightfall the army of Lycias was shattered beneath the strokes of the Hammer of Israel.
Just previous to the battle Dion had asked permission to join in the fray. Judas replied:
"I have no orders except for my own and kindred people. The victory will be of the Lord, and that He will give only to the children of the faith." He put his hand familiarly upon Dion's arm, as he added: "Had old Gideon ben Sirach's tale ended differently, as I had hoped, I would have given you command of a thousand men."
To this Dion responded with somewhat of resentment: "Is not your faith, Maccabæan, mine? Do you distrust my word of honor, which I gave you at the gate? I beg that you let me prove my sincerity in the sight of our two nations."
"I may give you no charge," replied Judas, "but I take it that before another sunset one who would fight for Jewry will find his own opportunity. And I pledge you, Dion, not to forget your service, though I may not direct it."
"It is enough," rejoined the Captain, as he hastened toward the battle, divining at a glance where it would be thickest.
No spot in all the bloody field was more hotly contested than a little green glade about a spring. Jew and Greek fought desperately for possession of its cooling waters. The holders of the ground at one moment were slaughtered at the next by new assailants. More than a score of times the spring alternated its owners. Its veins seemed to spurt out blood, so thickened had the water become.
At this spot toward the close of the day two men glared at each other over their sword points. One was Dion; the other wore the badge of high honor among Lycias' officers. He was faint from long exertion; but even Dion, master of sword-play though he was, could not find a spot in his antagonist's body unguarded by his quick ward. It was evident, however, that Dion would soon get from his foe's exhaustion what he could not wrest by his skill.