ct, but we must remember, too, that the games were a sacred
festival, and that the Gods might be displeased if they were omitted.

Leonidas, then, thought that at least he could hold the Pass till the
games were over, and his countrymen could join him. But when he found,
on arriving at Thermopylae, that he would have to hold two positions, the
Pass itself, and the mountain path, of whose existence he had not been
aware, then some of his army wished to return home. But Leonidas refused
to let them retreat, and bade the Phocians guard the path across the
hills, while he sent home for reinforcements. He could not desert the
people whom he had come to protect. Meanwhile the Greek fleet was also
alarmed, but was rescued by a storm which wrecked many of the Persian
vessels.

Xerxes was now within sight of Thermopylae. He sent a horseman forward to
spy out the Greek camp, and this man saw the Spartans amusing themselves
with running and wrestling, and combing their long hair, outside the
wall. They took no notice of him, and he returning, told Xerxes how few
they were, and how unconcerned. Xerxes then sent for Demaratus, an
exiled king of Sparta in his camp, and asked what these things meant. 'O
king!' said Demaratus, 'this is what I told you of yore, when you
laughed at my words. These men have come to fight you for the Pass, and
for that battle they are making ready, for it is our country fashion to
comb and tend our hair when we are about to put our heads in peril.'

Xerxes would not believe Demaratus. He waited four days, and then, in a
rage, bade his best warriors, the Medes and Cissians, bring the Greeks
into his presence. The Medes, who were brave men, and had their defeat
at Marathon, ten years before, to avenge, fell on, but their spears were
short, their shields were thin, and they could not break a way into the
stubborn forest of bronze and steel. In wave upon wave, all day long,
they dashed against the Greeks, and left their best lying at the mouth
of the Pass. 'Thereby was it made clear to all men, and not least to the
king, that men are many, but heroes are few.'

Next day Xerxes called on his bodyguard, the Ten Thousand Immortals, and
they came to close quarters, but got no more glory than the Medes.
Thrice the King leaped from his chair in dismay as thrice the Greeks
drove the barbarians in rout. And on the third day they had no better
fortune.

But there was a man, a Malian, whose name is a scorn to this h