The Duc de Mercoeur defeats Hassan Pasha and Alba Regalis is secure—Meldritch carries the war into Transylvania—The advance against Regall—The troops are constantly attacked on the march—Captain Smith treats the Turks to a surprise—He proposes a scheme for counteracting the night attacks—Five hundred Turks are entrapped and cut up—Clearing the mountain road to Regall—The army gains the summit and encamps—The Turks issue a challenge to single combat—The Christian captains draw lots for the honor of representing the army—“John Smith, the Englander, is our champion”—John gives Prince Moyses proof of his skill with the lance.

Despite their superior numbers, the Turks forebore from renewing the battle on the day following the desperate struggle that was described in the last chapter. The Christians completely exhausted and many of them, like Captain Smith, sorely wounded, were only too glad of the respite. Thus the contending armies lay in sight of each other for days without action on either side. At length the Duc de Mercoeur saw a favorable opportunity for attacking and did so with such effect that Hassan Pasha, after losing six thousand men in this later battle, retired from the field and retreated to Buda.

Relieved of present anxiety on the score of Alba Regalis, Mercoeur divided his army into three bodies and despatched them in different directions. One corps, under the command of the Earl of Meldritch, was assigned to service in Transylvania. Our hero recovered sufficiently to accompany his regiment which as we know could have ill-spared so good a man. The winter had set in before the command arrived at its destination, and the Earl went into camp to recruit his depleted regiments and prepare for the ensuing campaign. The regiment of Meldritch, which had recently added so greatly to its renown, had no difficulty in getting all the picked men it needed and in a few weeks had regained its full strength.

With the opening of spring, Count Meldritch led his army into the wildest portion of Transylvania and began a vigorous campaign. The object was to clear the Turks off the plains and to take their chief stronghold, Regall, in the mountains of Zarham. The entire country was of the most rugged character and it had been for years the resort of Turks, Tartars and bandits of all nations. From this wild retreat they issued at favorable intervals and overran the neighboring valleys, destroying villages and carrying off their inhabitants into slavery.

The fighting which Captain Smith and his companions in arms now experienced was the most difficult known to warfare. It called for courage and patience, strength and quick-wittedness in an extraordinary degree. Though he could not have suspected it at the time, the training our hero received in this campaign was the best possible to fit him for success in his future career among the Indians of North America, and many a lesson that he learned in Transylvania was turned to good account in Virginia.

During their march through the province of Zarham, the army of Meldritch never encountered troops in mass or in open combat, but were surrounded day and night by a foe invisible for the most part and appearing, when he did, in the most unexpected places. The road was through a country that afforded ample cover and ambuscades were of frequent occurrence. From the shelter of a wood or from behind a hill, a band of horsemen would dart upon the column with the swoop of a hawk, spear the nearest foot soldiers, and disappear in the twinkling of an eye. These attacks were usually made in the uncertain light of the evening, when the Christians could not effectively use their pistols. Some half a dozen such onslaughts had been made with complete success when it occurred to Captain Smith that the dusk which favored the attack might be made an aid in repelling it. His plan was suggested to the commander and with his approval was put into effect. It was ordered that on the following day the column should march with two ranks of men-at-arms on either flank, concealing a number of horsemen on foot leading their chargers.

As the light began to fail the Christian army approached a point where their progress would take them between a rocky eminence and a thick coppice. It was just such a place as the guerillas would choose for an ambush and every one was on the lookout for the expected attack. They were not long in suspense. As they passed the two natural hiding places, Turks dashed out on either side and charged upon the Christians with a shout. But before they could reach their intended victims, the concealed horsemen had leapt into the saddle and riding out between the files of foot soldiers charged the oncoming enemy at full speed. The crash as they came together was terrific and the lighter Arab horses of the Turks were bowled over like skittles by the heavy chargers of Meldritch’s men. The surprised Turks were readily slain as they lay upon the ground or turned to flee. Very few escaped, whilst the Christians returned to their ranks without the loss of a man. After this decisive turning of the tables upon them, the Ottomans contented themselves with picking off stragglers and casting spears from a tolerably safe distance.

More trying, however, than the ambuscades were the night attacks, for they not only occasioned serious loss of life, but, by robbing the troops of much needed rest and keeping their nerves upon the rack, threatened the demoralization of the entire army. Night after night the Turks rushed the camp, cutting the tent ropes and stabbing the struggling soldiers under the canvas. The Earl of Meldritch was deeply concerned about these night attacks. He knew that unless they were checked his army could never reach the passes of Regall, much less effect the difficult task of taking the city. The general and his leading officers had several consultations on the subject but without arriving at a satisfactory conclusion. One-half of the force might have been employed to guard the other whilst it slept, but the day’s march was so arduous that by nightfall few of the men were fit to stand.

In this dilemma, the young Englishman, who had already done such good service for the army, came to the relief of his general with one of those practical schemes which he seemed to be ever ready to devise in an emergency. Following Captain Smith’s suggestion, the Earl ordered that on the following night the camp should be pitched in a spot that would invite an attack by the enemy. The tents were to be erected as usual but the three front rows were to be empty. Behind these were firmly-stretched ropes at a height of about two feet from the ground and extending right across the camp. Beyond the ropes was left a clear space of twenty yards and along the farther side of this was drawn up, after dark, a body of one thousand picked men.

The lights of the camp were out and the army was apparently sunk in slumber, when a large force of Turks galloped in among the tents and charged forward with their battle-cry of “Allah! Allah ud Din!” (God and the Faith!) They expected an easy slaughter and escape with little loss but this time things were to fall out differently. The leading ranks of the Turks were in full career when they came upon the hidden ropes, and as their horses struck them they pitched forward upon their heads, throwing their riders at the very feet of the Christians waiting with sword in hand to dispatch them. Rank after rank of the Turks rode into the trap and fell atop of one another in a shrieking, struggling mass. Meanwhile Meldritch’s men-at-arms stabbed and hewed with might and main, slaughtering their enemies with a fury excited by the recollection of their nameless cruelties. By the time the less advanced of the Turkish horsemen, realizing that they were entrapped, had turned about, they found themselves face to face with a cordon of Meldritch’s cavalry which completely cut off their retreat. In the end the entire body, numbering about five hundred, was slain. In those days prisoners were seldom taken in wars with infidels, and it was not often that the fanatical Turks would ask quarter of the unbeliever.

After this affair the march was resumed with very little interference on the part of the enemy until the mountains of Zarham were reached. Here began the most difficult part of the military operation. Regall was situated in a small table-land which formed the crest of an isolated mountain. It was approachable only on one side and there the ascent must be made by a rough and narrow path. It is no wonder that the Turks deemed Regall impregnable and entrusted their women and their treasures to the security of its position. The city had never been taken and it is doubtful whether it would have fallen to a less determined and able body of men than the veterans under Meldritch.

A picked force was chosen to form the advance guard and John, in consideration of his recent services, was permitted to take his place in it. The work of this body was to clear and hold the road up the mountain which was defended by the Turks with the utmost obstinacy. Every foot of the way was contested and the advance guard lost a large proportion of its number, but at last it gained the top. The main body of the army and the big guns then made the ascent. When, after the weary weeks of fighting and marching, Meldritch’s division camped in sight of the gates of Regall it had dwindled to fewer than eight thousand men.

The city was garrisoned by twenty thousand Turks and had an ample supply of provisions. Under these conditions the Earl entertained no thought of attacking it but wisely contented himself with entrenching his position and repelling the frequent sorties of the besieged. In a few days Prince Moyses arrived with a reinforcement of nine thousand men and took over the chief command. The Christian army now proceeded to construct approaches to the city and to mount their guns in commanding positions.

This work of preparation, which was performed with careful deliberation, consumed several weeks, and the delay tended to encourage the garrison. They foolishly attributed it to timidity and began to display contempt for the beleaguering army. They paraded upon the ramparts effigies of Christians hanging from gallows and shouted derisive messages to the besiegers. At length this over-confidence of the Turks took a form that afforded the besiegers a chance to prove that they were still awake and prepared for action.

One day a messenger from the city was admitted to the presence of Prince Moyses under a flag of truce. He was the bearer of a lengthy document couched in pompous language which, after reproaching the Christians for the lack of exercise that was making them fat and timid, expressed a fear that they would depart from the city without affording any pastime to the ladies of it. That this might not be, Tur Pasha, a Turkish general, challenged to single combat any champion whom the Christian army might put forward. The combat was to be fought after the fashion of knightly times, with which the Turks had become familiar during the Crusades, and the head of the vanquished, together with everything brought into the field by him, should become the property of the victor.

The challenge was received with delight in the Christian army and as soon as it became known scores of captains pressed forward for the privilege of accepting it. In order to avoid jealousy and discontent by singling one out of so many brave men, the commander determined to decide the question by casting lots. Young John Smith was among the most eager candidates for the honor of representing the army and his name and those of the others were written upon scraps of paper and shaken up in a helmet. It was a breathless moment when Prince Moyses thrust his hand into the casque and drew forth the billet upon which his fingers closed.

“John Smith, the Englander, is our champion,” he announced to the throng, with a shade of disappointment in his voice. He had hoped that the honor might fall to one of his own countrymen and, although Count Meldritch had spoken with warmth of John’s courage and prowess, the Prince felt doubtful of the ability of a mere stripling to defeat an experienced warrior.

As John was about to go to his tent, his heart full of joy at the wonderful good fortune that had befallen him, Prince Moyses beckoned him to his side. It was in the mind of the general to ask Smith to waive his right in favor of some older and better tried captain, but the first glance at the young man’s eager face convinced his commander that it would be useless to pursue the purpose. Instead he inquired whether Smith’s horse and equipment were all that he could desire and what weapons he would choose, having as the challenged the right of selection. John replied that his horse had proved itself a trusty beast in many a sharp skirmish since the battle of Girkhe and for the weapon, he would name the lance in the handling of which he feared not to pit himself against any mortal man.

As he made this truthful but, nevertheless, somewhat boastful statement, John fancied that he detected a faint smile flickering about the corners of the Prince’s mouth. He flushed at the thought that his general might be inwardly laughing at his pretensions, and said, with some show of heat:

“May it please your Highness to give me leave to prove my quality with the lance?”

The Prince gravely assented to the proposal and a soldier was dispatched to fetch the young captain’s horse and tilting lance. In the few minutes that elapsed before his return, our hero’s thoughts strayed to the period of his hermitage in the Lincolnshire forest and he congratulated himself on the time then spent in the practice of a weapon that was fast falling into disuse.

Hard by the commander’s tent stood a convenient tree. From one of its branches a soldier was instructed to suspend an iron ring, no bigger than a dollar piece, at the height of a mounted man’s head. When this had been done, John, who was already mounted, took his lance from the attendant soldier and placing it in rest, bore down upon the mark at full tilt. When he wheeled round and saluted Prince Moyses, the ring was upon the point of his lance.

“Bravissimo!” cried the Prince with a smile of satisfaction. “I had not thought to see that feat performed in this day,” he added as he turned on his heel and entered the tent.