Their plumes fluttering in the breeze, the Thessalian horse poured out of the pass and ranged themselves behind the Companions.
Then the phalanx appeared, marching rank after rank, with the precision of a machine. The lancers under Protomachus and Aristo's Pæonians, who had been thrown forward in advance of the cavalry, raised a shout as the scarred veterans, each holding his long sarissa erect and bearing his heavy shield across his shoulder, followed the proud Agema.
While the phalanx was forming on the left of the cavalry there was a movement among the Persians.
"They are coming!" Chares shouted.
Clearchus and Nathan saw a large body of horse and foot advance across the river. Although in numbers they exceeded the entire Macedonian army, their departure from the main body of the Persians seemed to make no diminution in its size. They halted as soon as they had crossed the stream and from the host beyond came the bray of trumpets and the hoarse murmur of many voices.
"They are taking their positions," Nathan said. "They will not attack."
His conjecture proved correct, for in half an hour the troops that had advanced fell back again across the river through openings that had been left for them in the wings of the main force, and the glittering front of the Persian army was revealed, drawn up in battle array.
The Macedonians had continued to advance slowly across the plain, forming as they went, so that only half a mile now separated them from the Persians. Nathan's eyes sought the centre of the enemy's line.
"There he is!" he exclaimed, pointing with his finger.
Clearchus followed the direction he indicated and saw a blotch of variegated color, above which fluttered many standards.