Up the hillside rose dense volumes of smoke, and with the smoke came the Saracens.

Thrice they were driven back; thrice they came on.

At the fourth onset few of the Franks could fight more, for thirst had conquered them on this waterless hill of Hattin.

They lay down upon the dry grass with gaping jaws and protruding tongues, and let themselves be slain or taken prisoners.

A great company of Saracen horsemen broke through the ring and rushed at the scarlet tent.