ing under a deadly rain of missiles, were in the grip of terror, and soon lost all discipline. The usual combination of infantry and horsemen, whereby the one supported the other, was soon lost, and it was every man for himself. To add to their torments some Saracens fired the dry grass and flames and smoke rose about them, burning and choking. Saiadin began the day with his usual coolness, riding out between the two armies, attended only by a page, to survey the scene and determine the points of strength and weakness on both sides. Unmindful of the arrows from the enemy sharpshooters, he finished his surveillance before the armies came to grips. The rest of the day he was all over the field, directing, encouraging, restraining as need happened to be. "The Franks came on," said Beha ed-din, "as though driven to certain death. Before them lay disaster and ruin, and they were convinced that the next day would find them amongst those who visit the tombs. Yet the fight raged obstinately. Every horseman hurled himself against his opponent until victory was secured, and destruction fell upon the infidels." For the Franks it was the last desperate effort, and it was no cheap victory for the Moslems, after all. Even with the infantry out of the fighting, downed by the combined torture of thirst and heat, the knights held back the enemy for a long time. Raymond, answering to the demand of the King that he, as master of the land, take the lead in defending it, led a desperate charge into the thick of the Saracen's forces,