It was under the influence of these milder feelings which soften
the horrors of warfare that the Christian and Saracen, who had so
lately done their best for each other's mutual destruction, rode
at a slow pace towards the fountain of palm-trees to which the
Knight of the Couchant Leopard had been tending, when interrupted
in mid-passage by his fleet and dangerous adversary. Each was
wrapt for some time in his own reflections, and took breath after
an encounter which had threatened to be fatal to one or both; and
their good horses seemed no less to enjoy the interval of repose.
That of the Saracen, however, though he had been forced into much
the more violent and extended sphere of motion, appeared to have
suffered less from fatigue than the charger of the European
knight. The sweat hung still clammy on the limbs of the latter,
when those of the noble Arab were completely dried by the
interval of tranquil exercise, all saving the foam-flakes which
were still visible on his bridle and housings. The loose soil on
which he trod so much augmented the distress of the Christian's
horse, heavily loaded by his own armour and the weight of his
rider, that the latter jumped from his saddle, and led his
charger along the deep dust of the loamy soil, which was burnt in
the sun into a substance more impalpable than the finest sand,
and thus gave the faithful horse refreshment at the expense of
his own additional toil; for, iron-sheathed as he was, he sunk
over the mailed shoes at every step which he placed on a surface
so light and unresisting.
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