on rank, saying to themselves the pursuit would stop when their own
movement was seen. [22] But Cyrus never slackened his pace a whit: in
a transport of joy he called on his uncle by name as he pressed
forward, hanging hot-foot on the fugitives, while Cyaxares still clung
to his heels, thinking maybe what his father Astyages would say if he
hung back, and the others still followed close behind them, even the
faint-hearted changed into heroes for the nonce.

Now Astyages, watching their furious onslaught, and seeing the enemy
move steadily forward in close array to meet them, decided to advance
without a moment's delay himself, for fear that his son and Cyrus
might come to harm, crashing in disorder against the solid battalions
of the foe. [23] The Assyrians saw the movement of the king and came
to a halt, spears levelled and bows bent, expecting that, when their
assailants came within range, they would halt likewise as they had
usually done before. For hitherto, whenever the armies met, they would
only charge up to a certain distance, and there take flying shots, and
so keep up the skirmish until evening fell. But now the Assyrians saw
their own men borne down on them in rout, with Cyrus and his comrades
at their heels in full career, while Astyages and his cavalry were
already within bowshot. It was more than they could face, and they
turned and fled. After them swept the Medes in full pursuit, and those
they caught they mowed down, horse and man, and those that fell they
slew. There was no pause until they came up with the Assyrian foot.
[24] Here at last they drew rein in fear of some hidden ambuscade, and
Astyages led his army off. The exploit of his cavalry pleased him
beyond measure, but he did not know what he could say to Cyrus. It was
he to whom the engagement was due, and the victory; but the boy's
daring was on the verge of madness. Even during the return home his
behaviour was strange; he could not forbear riding round alone to look