When they had got back to the villages, while the rest were busy about provisions, the generals and officers met:  and here there was deep despondency.  For on the one side were exceedingly high mountains; on the other a river of such depth that they failed to reach the bottom with their spears.  In the midst of their perplexities, a Rhodian came up with a proposal, as follows:  “I am ready, sirs to carry you across, four thousand heavy infantry at a time; if you will furnish me with what I need and give me a talent into the bargain for my pains.”  When asked, “What shall you need?” he replied:  “Two thousand wine-skins.  I see there are plenty of sheep and goats and asses.  They have only to be flayed, and their skins inflated, and they will readily give us a passage.  I shall want also the straps which you use for the baggage animals.  With these I shall couple the skins to one another; then I shall moor each skin by attaching stones and letting them down like anchors into the water.  Then I shall carry them across, and when I have fastened the links at both ends, I shall place layers of wood on them and a coating of earth on the top of that.  You will see in a minute that there’s no danger of your drowning, for every skin will be able to support a couple of men without sinking, and the wood and earth will prevent your slipping off.”

The generals thought it a pretty invention enough, but its realisation impracticable, for on the other side were masses of cavalry posted and ready to bar the passage; who, to begin with, would not suffer the 12 first detachment of crossers to carry out any item of the programme.

Under these circumstances, the next day they turned right about face, and began retracing their steps in the direction of Babylon to the unburnt villages, having previously set fire to those they left, so that the enemy did not ride up to them, but stood and stared, all agape to see in what direction the Hellenes would betake themselves and what they were minded to do.  Here, again, while the rest of the soldiers were busy about provisions, the generals and officers met in council, and after collecting the prisoners together, submitted them to a cross-examination touching the whole country round, the names, and so forth, of each district.

The prisoners informed them that the regions south, through which they had come, belonged to the district towards Babylon and Media; the road east led to Susa and Ecbatana, where the king is said to spend summer and spring; crossing the river, the road west led to Lydia and Ionia; and the part through the mountains facing towards the Great Bear, led, they said, to the Carduchians[1].  They were a people, so said the prisoners, dwelling up on the hills, addicted to war, and not subject to the king; so much so that once, when a royal army one hundred and twenty thousand strong had invaded them, not a man came back, owing to the intricacies of the country.  Occasionally, however, they made truce or treaty with the satrap in the plain, and, for the nonce, there would be intercourse:  “they will come in and out amongst us,” “and we will go in and out amongst them,” said the captives.