alone for supply, were in danger of absolute famine. As they moved in a close body through this desolated region, never occupying more than the ground which they actually covered, clouds of the enemy's cavalry hovered round them; who, finding that they did not choose to waste their ammunition on individual objects, even rode up to the line, and held an occasional parley, uttering from time to time a fierce defiance, or an invitation to single combat.
"There was," says Colonel Wilks, "in Sir Eyre Coote's body-guard a young cavalry officer named Dallas, distinguished for superior military address; on ordinary service always foremost, to the very verge of prudence, but never beyond it; of physical strength never equalled; on foot a figure for a sculptor; when mounted –
"He grew into his seat,
And to such wondrous doing brought his horse
As he had been incorpsed and demi-natured
With the brave beast."
"In common with the rest of the army, this officer had smiled at the recital of these absurd challenges; but while reconnoitring on the flank of the column of march, one of them was personally addressed to himself by a horseman who, from dress and appearance, seemed to be of some distinction. He accepted the invitation, and the requisite precautions were mutually acceded to: they fought, and he slew his antagonist. After this incident, the challenges were frequently addressed, not as formerly to the whole army, but to Dallas, whose name became speedily known to them; and whenever his duty admitted, and his favourite horse was sufficiently fresh, the invitations were accepted, until the Mysoreans became weary of repetition. With a single exception, the result was uniform. On that one occasion the combatants, after several wounds, feeling a respect for each other, made a significant pause, mutually saluted, and retired."
As it had been decided that the army should march in relief of certain garrisons which were severely pressed by the enemy. Sir Eyre Coote succeeded, on the 19th of
