Feriz, however, made no assault upon them, but got his Tartars to surround them, commanding them to set their darts on fire and discharge them into the air so that they might fall down into the German camp. According to this plan they could fire at the enemy at a much greater distance off than the enemy could fire upon them, for the dart, flying in a curve could reach further than the straight-going musket balls of those days, and wherever it fell its sharp point inflicted a wound, whereas the bullet was often spent before it reached its mark.
Suddenly a flaming flood of darts darkened the air and the burning resinous bolts fell from all sides into the crowded ranks of the imperial army; the points of the darts fastened in the backs of the horses, the burning drops fell upon the faces and garments of the warriors, burning through the texture and inflicting grievous wounds; the horses began to rear violently at this unexpected attack; the gunners, cursing and swearing, began to discharge their guns anyhow at the enemy; nobody paid any attention to the orders of the general, discipline was quite at an end; the burning darts were destructive of all military tactics, for there was no refuge from them, and every dart struck its man.
Then Feriz Beg blew with the trumpets, and suddenly the imperial troops were attacked from all sides. They were unable to repel the attack in the regular way, but intermingled with their assailants, fought man to man. The picked German troopers quitted themselves like men, not one of them departed without taking another with him to the next world, but the Turks outnumbered them, and just when the Prince's army was exhausted by the attacks of the Tartars, Feriz brought forward his well-rested reserves, who burned with the desire to wash out the shame of former defeats. The Prince of Hanover fell on the battle-field with the rest of his army. Not one escaped to tell the tale.
This was the first victory which turned the fortunes of war once more in favour of the Turks after so many defeats.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE LAST DAY.
It was well known in Transylvania that the Porte had proclaimed Tököly Prince and given into his hands armies wherewith he might invade the Principality and conquer it, so General Heissler gave orders to the counties and the Szeklers to rise up in defence of the realm, which they accordingly did.
The Hungarian forces were commanded by Balthasar Mackási and Michael Teleki himself; the leader of the Germans was Heissler, with Generals Noscher and Magni, and Colonel Doria under him, all of them heroic soldiers of fortune, who, all the way from Vienna to Wallachia, had never seen the Turks otherwise than as corpses or fugitives.
When Tököly was approaching through Wallachia with his forces, Heissler quickly closed all the passes, and placed three regiments at the Iron Gates, while he himself took up a position in the Pass of Bozza, and there pitched his camp amidst the mountains.
The encamped forces were merry and sprightly enough, there was lots to eat and drink of all sorts, and the Szeklers were quite close to their wives and houses, so that they did not feel a bit homesick—only Teleki was perpetually dissatisfied. He would have liked the forces to be marching continually from one pass to another and sentinels to be standing on guard night and day on every footpath which led into the kingdom.