Before they had gone far, they found themselves descending a long slope toward what seemed to be a wide stretch of marshland extending as far as they could see. It was covered with long, dry rushes, which rustled and bent before the strong breeze. The brown expanse apparently had once been a lake, for in the distance they could catch the gleam of water; but the greater part of the basin had dried, and the reeds had sprung up as the water receded.
"It looks like a swamp," Clearchus said, anxiously scanning the plain. "How are we to pass?"
"It seems dry enough now," Leonidas replied. "We will cross it if we can find no better way; but let us look first for a road."
Facing to the east, they skirted the edge of the rushes for more than a mile without finding an opening or coming within sight of the end.
"I'm afraid we shall have to try to get through," Leonidas said at last, halting on a tongue of land which extended some distance into the marsh. "We can't afford to waste much more time."
The question was decided for them in a manner that left them no choice. As they stood in doubt, shouts came from their rear, and turning, they saw a company of horsemen at the top of the slope, half a mile away, bearing down upon them at a breakneck gallop. Their long lances and flowing garments showed them to be Persians.
"You were right in saying that we had no time to waste, Leonidas," Chares exclaimed. "What are you going to do about this? I am anxious to take orders."
For answer, the Spartan set off at a run for the marsh. It was evident that the Persians had seen them and were aiming to attack them at a distance from the camps, where the affair would remain undiscovered.
With the wind blowing in their faces, the three young men plunged in among the reeds. The dry stalks met above their heads and whistled about their ears.
"Go first!" commanded Leonidas, standing aside for Chares to pass.