from  either  camp,  who  had  approached  the  stream  for
the  purpose  of  watering.  The  Greeks  in  that  affray-
were  four  to  one,  and  drove  back  the  Bulgarians  in
precipitate  rout.  Rogero,  seeing  this,  and  animated
only  by  his  hatred  of  the  Grecian  prince,  dashed  into
the  middle  of  the  flying  mass,  calling  aloud  on  the
fugitives  to  turn.  He  encountered  first  a  leader  of
the  Grecian  host  in  splendid  armor,  a  nephew  of  the
Emperor,  as  dear  to  him  as  a  son.  Rogero's  lance
pierced  shield  and  armor,  and  stretched  the  warrior
breathless  on  the  plain.  Another  and  another  fell
before  him,  and  astonishment  and  terror  arrested  the
advance  of  the  Greeks,  while  the  Bulgarians,  catch-
ing courage  from  the  cavalier,  rally,  change  front,
and  chase  the  Grecian  troops,  who  fly  in  their  turn.
Leo,  the  prince,  was  at  a  distance  when  this  sudden
skirmish  rose,  but  not  so  far  but  that  he  could  see
distinctly,  from  an  elevated  position  which  he  held,
how  the  changed  battle  was  all  the  work  of  one  man,
and  could  not  choose  but  admire  the  bravery  and
prowess  with  which  it  was  done.  He  knew  by  the
blazonry  displayed  that  the  champion  was  not  of
the  Bulgarian  army,  though  he  furnished  aid  to  them.
