as he rode past, and aimed a blow at him with his axe.  The aim took no effect; when another hurled a stone at him, and a third, and then several, with shouts and hisses.  Clearchus made a rapid retreat to his own troops, and at once ordered them to get under arms.  He bade his hoplites remain in position with their shields resting against their knees, while he, at the head of his Thracians and horsemen, of which he had more than forty in his army—­Thracians for the most part—­advanced against Menon’s soldiers, so that the latter, with Menon himself, were panic-stricken, and ran to seize their arms; some even stood riveted to the spot, in perplexity at the occurrence.  Just then Proxenus came up from behind, as chance would have it, with his division of hoplites, and without a moment’s hesitation marched into the open space between the rival parties, and grounded arms; then he fell to begging Clearchus to desist.  The latter was not too well pleased to hear his trouble mildly spoken of, when he had barely escaped being stoned to death; and he bade Proxenus retire and leave the intervening space open.  At this juncture Cyrus arrived and inquired what was happening.  There was no time for hesitation.  With his javelins firmly grasped in his hands he galloped up—­escorted by some of his faithful bodyguard, who were present—­and was soon in the midst, exclaiming:  “Clearchus, Proxenus, and you other Hellenes yonder, you know not what you do.  As surely as you come to blows with one another, our fate is sealed—­this very day I shall be cut to pieces, and so will you:  your turn will follow close on mine.  Let our fortunes once take an evil turn, and these barbarians whom you see around will be worse foes to us than those who are at present serving the king.”  At these words Clearchus came to his senses.  Both parties paused from battle, and retired to their quarters:  order reigned.

VI

As they advanced from this point (opposite Charmande), they came upon 1 the hoof-prints and dung of horses at frequent intervals.  It looked like the trail of some two thousand horses.  Keeping ahead of the army, these fellows burnt up the grass and everything else that was good for use.  Now there was a Persian, named Orontas; he was closely related to the king by birth:  and in matters pertaining to war reckoned among the best of Persian warriors.  Having formerly been at war with Cyrus, and afterwards reconciled to him, he now made a conspiracy to destroy him. he made a proposal to Cyrus:  if Cyrus would furnish him with a thousand horsemen, he would deal with these troopers, who were burning down everything in front of them; he would lay an ambuscade and cut them down, or he would capture a host of them alive; in any case, he would put a stop to their aggressiveness and burnings; he would see to it that they did not ever get a chance of setting eyes on Cyrus’s army and reporting its advent to the king.  The proposal seemed plausible