"And nobody who is not, of course," said the young man.
"Oh yes, you did," answered Cyrus, "you hit that officer over there who is riding so swiftly paste the chariot-lines."
(30) "And how is it," asked the other, "that he does not even turn his head?"
"Half-witted, probably," said Cyrus.
Whereat the young man rode off to see who it was, and found Pheraulas, with his chin and beard all begrimed and bloody, gore trickling from his nostrils were the clod had struck him. (31) The Sakian cried out to know if he was hit.
"As you see," answered Pheraulas.
"Then," said the other, "let me give you my horse."
"But why?" asked Pheraulas.
And so the Sakian had to tell him all about the matter, adding, "And after all, you see, I did not miss a gallant fellow."
(32) "Ah," said Pheraulas, "if you had been wise, you would have chosen a richer one; but I take your gift with all my thanks. And I pray the gods," he added, "who let me be your target, to help me now and see that you may never regret your gift. For the present, mount my horse yourself and ride back; I will be with you shortly."