A group of warriors had kindled a fire beneath the wide-spreading
branches of an immense cedar tree, which had, perhaps, been planted
in the reign of Solomon to supply the loss of those cut down for
the temple by Hiram of Tyre.
The landscape was a striking one.
Above them, in the distance, opened a mighty gorge, through which
flowed the rushing waters of a mountain torrent, one of the sources
of the Jordan, issuing from the snows of Hermon.
Below, the country expanded into a gently undulating plain, studded
with cedars, which resembled in no small degree the precincts of
some old English park.
Let us glance at the warriors, and we shall speedily learn that
they are no natives of the soil.
The armour they have laid aside, the coats of linked mail, with
long sleeves of similar material, the big triangular shields,
plated gauntlets, and steel breastplates, sufficiently bespoke
their western nationality; but the red cross, conspicuous on the
right sleeve, told that they were Crusaders.
Their leader appeared to be a young knight who, one would think,
had scarcely won his spurs, or had but recently done so; and his
retinue was limited to the customary attendance upon a single
"lance," a dozen men-at-arms, completely equipped, and twice that
number of light archers.
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