284 HISTORICAL TALES.

words he restored the spirits of the army, and led
them on to the top of the hill overlooking the
Crimesus.

It was a misty May morning. Nothing could be
- seen; but from the valley a loud noise and clatter
arose. The Carthaginians were on the march, and
had begun to cross the stream. Soon the mist rose
and the formidable host was seen. A multitude of
war-chariots, each drawn by four horses, had already
crossed. The ten thousand native Carthaginians,
bearing their white shields, were partly across. The
main body of the host was hastening in disorderly
march to the rugged banks of the stream.

Fortune had favored Timoleon again. If he
hoped for success this was the moment to attack.
The enemy was divided and in disorder. With
cheery words he bade his men to charge. The cav-
alry dashed on in front. Seizing a shield, Timoleon
sprang to the front and led on his footmen, rousing
them to activity by exultant words and bidding the
trumpets to sound. Rushing down the hill and
through the line of chariots, the charging mass
poured on the Carthaginian infantry. These fought
bravely and defied the Grecian spears with the
strength of their armor. The assailants had to take
to their swords, and try and hew their way through
the dense ranks of the foe.

The result was in serious doubt, when once more
the gods—as it seemed—came to Timoleon’s aid. A
violent storm suddenly arose. Darkness shrouded
the hilltops. The wind blewahurricane. Rain and
hail poured down in torrents, while the clouds flashed