Artaxerxes   

for a reward of his achievement gave the privilege of carrying ever
after a golden cock upon his spear before the first ranks of the army
in all expeditions. For the Persians call the men of Caria cocks,
because of the crests with which they adorn their helmets.
But the account of Ctesias, to put it shortly, omitting many details,
is as follows: Cyrus, after the death of Artagerses, rode up against
the king, as he did against him, neither exchanging a word with the
other. But Ariaeus, Cyrus's friend, was beforehand with him, and darted
first at the king, yet wounded him not. Then the king cast his lance
at his brother, but missed him, though he both hit and slew Satiphernes,
a noble man and a faithful friend to Cyrus. Then Cyrus directed his
lance against the king, and pierced his breast with it quite through
his armour, two inches deep, so that he fell from his horse with the
stroke. At which those that attended him being put to flight and disorder,
he, rising with a few, among whom was Ctesias, and making his way
to a little hill not far off, rested himself. But Cyrus, who was in
the thick enemy, was carried off a great way by the wildness of his
horse, the darkness which was now coming on making it hard for them
to know him, and for his followers to find him. However, being made
elate with victory, and full of confidence and force, he passed through
them, crying out, and that more than once, in the Persian language,
"Clear the way, villains, clear the way;" which they indeed did, throwing
themselves down at his feet. But his tiara dropped off his head, and
a young Persian, by name Mithridates, running by, struck a dart into
one of his temples near his eye, not knowing who he was; out of which
wound much blood gushed, so that Cyrus, swooning and senseless, fell
off his horse. The horse escaped, and ran about the field; but the
companion of Mithridates took the trappings which fell off, soaked
with blood. And as Cyrus slowly began to come to himself, some eunuchs
who were there tried to put him on another horse, and so convey him
safe away. And when he was not able to ride, and desired to walk on
his feet, they led and supported him, being indeed dizzy in the head
and reeling, but convinced of his being victorious, hearing, as he
went, the fugitives saluting Cyrus as king, and praying for grace
and mercy. In the meantime, some wretched, poverty-stricken Caunians,
who in some pitiful employment as camp followers had accompanied the
king's army, by chance joined these attendants of Cyrus, supposing
them to be of their own party. But when, after a while, they made
out that their coats over their breastplates were red, whereas all
the king's people wore white ones, they knew that they were enemies.
One of them, therefore, not dreaming that it was Cyrus, ventured to
strike him behind with a dart. The vein under the knee was cut open,
and Cyrus fell, and at the same time struck his wounded temple against
a stone, and so died. Thus runs Ctesias's account, tardily, with the
slowness of a blunt weapon effecting the victim's death.
When he was now dead, Artasyras, the king's eye, passed by on horseback,
and, having observed the eunuchs lamenting, he asked the most trusty
of them, "Who is this, Pariscas, whom you sit here deploring?" He
replied, "Do not you see, O Artasyras, that it is my master, Cyrus?"
Then Artasyras wondering, bade the eunuch be of good cheer, and keep
the dead body safe. And going in all haste to Artaxerxes, who had
now given up all hope of his affairs, and was in great suffering also
with his thirst and his wound, he with much joy assured him that he
had seen Cyrus dead. Upon this, at first, he set out to go in person
to the place, and commanded Artasyras to conduct him where he lay.
But when there was a great noise made about the Greeks, who were said
to be in full pursuit, conquering and carrying all before them, he
thought it best to send a number of persons to see; and accordingly
thirty men went with torches in their hands. Meantime, as he seemed
to be almost at the point of dying from thirst, his eunuch Satibarzanes
ran about seeking drink for him; for the place had no water in it
and he was at a good distance from his camp. After a long search he
at last met one of those poor Caunian camp-followers, who had in a
wretched skin about four pints of foul and stinking water, which he