Again they saw it and again, until they observed that its appearance was rhythmic, striking through a soft colored cloud of Judean dust.
Out of that yellow haze, rolling nearer, they saw now the glittering Roman standards emerge, one by one; saw the spiky level of shouldered spears; saw the shapes of horses, saw the shapes of men; heard the soft thunder of six hundred horse on the packed earth, heard the music of six hundred whetting harnesses; heard like a tender, far-off song the winding of a Roman bugle and heard then in their own hearts, the shout: "He has come! The Deliverer!" It was the hour of the City's last hope.
On the near side of the Pool of the Serpent, they saw the body of horse break into a light trot and, wheeling in that fine concord in which even the dumb beasts were perfect, turn the broadside of the splendid column to Jerusalem as it swept up Hill Gareb to the north.
The citizens clambered down from the wall by Hippicus and, speeding silently but with moving lips and shining eyes through alleys and byways, came finally to an angle in Agrippa's wall that stood out toward Gareb.

Here was built the Tower of Psephinos.

Dumb and callous as beasts to the blows and commands of the sentries there mounted, the citizens clambered up on the fortifications and, with their chins on the battlements that stood shoulder-high, gazed avidly at the sight they saw.
Scattered confidently over the uneven country the six hundred had broken file and were in easy disarray all over Gareb.

Spears were at rest, standards grounded, many were dismounted, whole companies slouched in their saddles.

The Jews, long used to rigid military discipline among the Romans, looked in amazement.