But Pedro was a valiant little fellow after all. The fighting
spirit of his father the Don burned within him, and few little
folks of seven know what caution is. He whispered to his sister,
whose hand he had at first clutched in terror, a word of
assurance.
"Be not afraid, sister mine," he said. "Yonder comes the Infidel
we have gone forth to find. Do you suppose he has a whole great
army following him? Hold up your crucifix, and I will strike him
with my sword. The castle can't be far away, and perhaps we can
conquer this old Infidel and find a good dinner in his castle.
That 's just what the Cid would have done. You know what he said:
" 'Far from our land, far from Castile
We here are banished;
If with the Moors we battle not,
I wot we get no bread.'
Let us battle with him at once."
And before his sister with restraining hand, could hold him back
the plucky young crusader flourished his sword furiously and
charged down upon the old Moor, who now in turn started in
surprise and drew aside from the path of the determined little
warrior.
"Now yield thee, yield thee, pagan prince.
Or die in crimson gore;
I am Ruy Diaz of Bivar,
The Cid Campeador!"
shouted the little crusader, charging against his pagan enemy at
a furious rate.
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