TALES OF THE ROMANS
This is to say, “Great Commander.” And the foolish man was flattered and pleased. He sent his officers into all the cities to make notes of the amount of money in the public treasury or the gold in the temples. Already he was reckoning up his profits.
Crassus was now making his way along the high ground near the river. Boats followed to supply his troops with food and other needs.
One day an Arab chief visited the Roman camp, his eyes black, his hair black, his skin bronzed by the sun, a loose cloak hanging over his head, shoulders, and back.
“Sir,” he said to Crassus, “I never saw a more splendid army than yours. Why do you wait? The enemy are losing heart. I have seen them in their camp on yonder plain. Your Roman soldiers are now full of spirit. I advise you to descend from the hills and strike the great blow at once. You are sure to win.”
Ah, he was a traitor. He had been sent by the Parthians.
When the Arab offered to lead the Romans by an easy path to the plain, Crassus eagerly agreed.
At first the road was easy and smooth for the foot-soldiers and horsemen and camp-followers. After a while they found themselves on a wide desert, and they tramped, weary and thirsty, over hillocks of sand. No brooks gave water; no
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