IV. THE FIRST DAY OF BATTLE: THE RUSSIANS ARE VICTORIOUS.

Evening was fading late into the night. Finally the glow of dawn faded. Mist enveloped the prairie. The song of the nightingale had died out. The daws have begun to caw. Russian warriors barred the wide prairie with their crimson shields. They seek honour for themselves and glory for their prince. Early in the morning of Friday the Russians trampled the infidel Kuman armies, and, spreading like arrows over the prairie, they galloped away with beautiful Kuman maidens. And with them they took: gold and brocades, and costly velvets. With cloaks and coats and fur mantles and with all kinds of Kuman garments they began to bridge their way over the swarnps and marshes. The crimson banner, the white gonfalon, the scarlet panache, and the silver lance were taken to brave Igor, son of Sviatoslav. Brave Oleg's clan slumbers in the prairie. They have strayed far, flying. They were born to be offended neither by the falcon, nor by the gyrfalcon, nor by you, the black ravens, the infidel Kumans. Khan Gza flees like a grey wolf. Khan Konchak shows him the way to the great river Don.