{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15202/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15202","id":"gutenberg_15202","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15202","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's Anthologies","Heroes","Legends","Mythology"],"text":"E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Sandra Brown, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\nNote: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this\n      file which includes the original illustrations.\n      See 15202-h.htm or 15202-h.zip:\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/2/0/15202/15202-h/15202-h.htm)\n      or\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/2/0/15202/15202-h.zip)\n\n\n\n\n\nYOUNG FOLKS' TREASURY\n\nIn 12 Volumes\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, Editor\n\nEDWARD EVERETT HALE, Associate Editor\n\nVOLUME II: MYTHS AND LEGENDARY HEROES\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, Editor\n\nNew York\nThe University Society Inc.\nPublishers\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: JASON SNATCHED OFF HIS HELMET AND HURLED IT.]\n\n\n\n\nPARTIAL LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS, ASSISTANT EDITORS AND ADVISERS\n\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE\nEditor\n\nEDWARD EVERETT HALE\nAssociate Editor\n\nNICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER, President Columbia University.\n\nWILLIAM R. HARPER, Late President Chicago University.\n\nHON. THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Ex-President of the United States.\n\nHON. GROVER CLEVELAND, Late President of the United States.\n\nJAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS, American Roman Catholic prelate.\n\nROBERT C. OGDEN, Partner of John Wanamaker.\n\nHON. GEORGE F. HOAR, Late Senator from Massachusetts.\n\nEDWARD W. BOK, Editor \"Ladies' Home Journal.\"\n\nHENRY VAN DYKE, Author, Poet, and Professor of English\n\nLiterature, Princeton University.\n\nLYMAN ABBOTT, Author, Editor of \"The Outlook.\"\n\nCHARLES G.D. ROBERTS, Writer of Animal Stories.\n\nJACOB A. RIIS, Author and Journalist.\n\nEDWARD EVERETT HALE, Jr., English Professor at Union College.\n\nJOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, Late Author and Creator of \"Uncle Remus.\"\n\nGEORGE GARY EGGLESTON, Novelist and Journalist.\n\nRAY STANNARD BAKER, Author and Journalist.\n\nWILLIAM BLAIKIE, Author of \"How to Get Strong and How to Stay So.\"\n\nWILLIAM DAVENPORT HULBERT, Writer of Animal Stories.\n\nJOSEPH JACOBS, Folklore Writer and Editor of the \"Jewish\nEncyclopedia.\"\n\nMRS. VIRGINIA TERHUNE (\"Marion Harland\"), Author of \"Common Sense in\nthe Household,\" etc.\n\nMARGARET E. SANGSTER, Author of \"The Art of Home-Making,\" etc.\n\nSARAH K. BOLTON, Biographical Writer.\n\nELLEN VELVIN, Writer of Animal Stories.\n\nREV. THEODORE WOOD, F.E.S., Writer on Natural History.\n\nW.J. BALTZELL, Editor of \"The Musician.\"\n\nHERBERT T. WADE, Editor and Writer on Physics.\n\nJOHN H. CLIFFORD, Editor and Writer.\n\nERNEST INGERSOLL, Naturalist and Author.\n\nDANIEL E. WHEELER, Editor and Writer.\n\nIDA PRENTICE WHITCOMB, Author of \"Young People's Story of Music,\"\n\"Heroes of History,\" etc.\n\nMARK HAMBOURG, Pianist and Composer.\n\nMME. BLANCHE MARCHESI, Opera Singer and Teacher.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nIntroduction\n\n\nMYTHS OF GREECE AND ROME\n\nBaucis and Philemon\n Adapted by C.E. Smith\n\nPandora\n Adapted by C.E. Smith\n\nMidas\n Adapted by C.E. Smith\n\nCadmus\n Adapted by C.E. Smith\n\nProserpina\n Adapted by C.E. Smith\n\nThe Story of Atalanta\n Adapted by Anna Klingensmith\n\nPyramus and Thisbe\n Adapted by Alice Zimmern\n\nOrpheus\n Adapted by Alice Zimmern\n\n\nMYTHS OF SCANDINAVIA\n\nBaldur\n Adapted from A. and E. Keary's version\n\nThor's Adventure among the Jotuns\n Adapted by Julia Goddard\n\nThe Apples of Idun\n Adapted by Hamilton Wright Mabie\n\nThe Gifts of the Dwarfs\n\nThe Punishment of Loki\n Adapted from A. and E. Keary's version\n\n\nMYTHS OF INDIA\n\nThe Blind Man, The Deaf Man, and the Donkey\n Adapted by M. Frere\n\nHarisarman\n\nWhy the Fish Laughed\n\nMuchie Lal\n Adapted by M. Frere\n\nHow the Rajah's Son Won the Princess Labam\n Adapted by Joseph Jacobs\n\n\nMYTHS OF JAPAN\n\nThe Jellyfish and the Monkey\n Adapted by Yei Theodora Ozaki\n\nThe Old Man and-the Devils\n\nAutumn and Spring\n Adapted by Frank Kinder\n\nThe Vision of Tsunu\n Adapted by Frank Kinder\n\nThe Star-Lovers\n Adapted by Frank Kinder\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF THE SLAVS\n\nThe Two Brothers\n Adapted by Alexander Chodsko\n\nThe Twelve Months\n Adapted by Alexander Chodsko\n\nThe Sun; or, the Three Golden Hairs of the Old Man\n Vesevde\n Adapted by Alexander Chodsko\n\n\nA MYTH OF AMERICA\n\nHiawatha\n Adapted from H.R. Schoolcraft's version\n\n\nHEROES OF GREECE AND ROME\n\nPerseus\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\nOdysseus\n Adapted by Jeanie Lang\n\nThe Argonauts\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\nTheseus\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\nHercules\n Adapted by Thomas Cartwright\n\nThe Perilous Voyage of AEneas\n Adapted by Alice Zimmern\n\nHow Horatius Held the Bridge\n Adapted by Alfred J. Church\n\nHow Cincinnatus Saved Rome\n Adapted by Alfred J. Church\n\n\nHEROES OF GREAT BRITAIN\n\nBeowulf\n Adapted by H.E. Marshall\n\nHow King Arthur Conquered Rome\n Adapted by E. Edwardson\n\nSir Galahad and the Sacred Cup\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\nThe Passing of Arthur\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\nRobin Hood\n Adapted by H.E. Marshall\n\nGuy of Warwick\n Adapted by H.E. Marshall\n\nWhittington and His Cat\n Adapted by Ernest Rhys\n\nTom Hickathrift\n Adapted by Ernest Rhys\n\n\nHEROES OF SCANDINAVIA\n\nThe Story of Frithiof\n Adapted by Julia Goddard\n\nHavelok\n Adapted by George W. Cox and E.H. Jones\n\nThe Vikings\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\n\nHERO OF GERMANY\n\nSiegfried\n Adapted by Mary Macgregor\n\n\nHERO OF FRANCE\n\nRoland\n Adapted by H.E. Marshall\n\n\nHERO OF SPAIN\n\nThe Cid\n Adapted by Robert Southey\n\n\nHERO OF SWITZERLAND\n\nWilliam Tell\n Adapted by H.E. Marshall\n\n\nHERO OF PERSIA\n\nRustem\n Adapted by Alfred J. Church\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\nJASON SNATCHED OFF HIS HELMET AND HURLED IT (Frontispiece)\n\nOUT FLEW A BRIGHT, SMILING FAIRY\n\nHE CAUGHT HER IN HIS ARMS AND SPRANG INTO THE CHARIOT\n\nORPHEUS AND EURYDICE\n\nTHE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI\n\nTHE PRINCESS LABAM ... SHINES SO THAT SHE LIGHTS\n UP ALL THE COUNTRY\n\nHIAWATHA IN HIS CANOE\n\nSO DANAE WAS COMFORTED AND WENT HOME WITH DICTYS\n\nORPHEUS SANG TILL HIS VOICE DROWNED THE SONG OF THE SIRENS\n\nTHEY LEAPT ACROSS THE POOL AND CAME TO HIM\n\nTHESEUS LOOKED UP INTO HER FAIR FACE\n\nSIR GALAHAD\n\nROBIN HOOD IN AN ENCOUNTER\n\nTHE HERO'S SHINING SWORD PIERCED THE HEART OF THE MONSTER\n\nWILLIAM TELL AND HIS FRIENDS\n\n(Many of the illustrations in this volume are reproduced by special\npermission of E.P. Dutton & Company, owners of American rights.)\n\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nWith such a table of contents in front of this little foreword, I am\nquite sure that few will pause to consider my prosy effort. Nor can I\nblame any readers who jump over my head, when they may sit beside kind\nold Baucis, and drink out of her miraculous milk-pitcher, and hear\nnoble Philemon talk; or join hands with Pandora and Epimetheus in\ntheir play before the fatal box was opened; or, in fact, be in the\ncompany of even the most awe-inspiring of our heroes and heroines.\n\nFor ages the various characters told about in the following pages have\ncharmed, delighted, and inspired the people of the world. Like fairy\ntales, these stories of gods, demigods, and wonderful men were\nthe natural offspring of imaginative races, and from generation\nto generation they were repeated by father and mother to son and\ndaughter. And if a brave man had done a big deed he was immediately\ncelebrated in song and story, and quite as a matter of course, the\ndeed grew with repetition of these. Minstrels, gleemen, poets, and\nskalds (a Scandinavian term for poets) took up these rich themes and\nelaborated them. Thus, if a hero had killed a serpent, in time it\nbecame a fiery dragon, and if he won a great battle, the enthusiastic\nreciters of it had him do prodigious feats--feats beyond belief. But\ndo not fancy from this that the heroes were every-day persons. Indeed,\nthey were quite extraordinary and deserved highest praise of their\nfellow-men.\n\nSo, in ancient and medieval Europe the wandering poet or minstrel\nwent from place to place repeating his wondrous narratives, adding\nnew verses to his tales, changing his episodes to suit locality or\noccasion, and always skilfully shaping his fascinating romances. In\ncourt and cottage he was listened to with breathless attention. He\nmight be compared to a living novel circulating about the country, for\nin those days books were few or entirely unknown. Oriental countries,\ntoo, had their professional story-spinners, while our American Indians\nheard of the daring exploits of their heroes from the lips of old men\nsteeped in tradition. My youngest reader can then appreciate how myths\nand legends were multiplied and their incidents magnified. We all know\nhow almost unconsciously we color and change the stories we repeat,\nand naturally so did our gentle and gallant singers through the\nlong-gone centuries of chivalry and simple faith.\n\nEvery reader can feel the deep significance underlying the myths we\npresent--the poetry and imperishable beauty of the Greek, the strange\nand powerful conceptions of the Scandinavian mind, the oddity and\nfantasy of the Japanese, Slavs, and East Indians, and finally the\nqueer imaginings of our own American Indians. Who, for instance, could\never forget poor Proserpina and the six pomegranate seeds, the death\nof beautiful Baldur, the luminous Princess Labam, the stupid jellyfish\nand shrewd monkey, and the funny way in which Hiawatha remade the\nearth after it had been destroyed by flood?\n\nThen take our legendary heroes: was ever a better or braver company\nbrought together--Perseus, Hercules, Siegfried, Roland, Galahad,\nRobin Hood, and a dozen others? But stop, I am using too many\nquestion-marks. There is no need to query heroes known and admired the\nworld over.\n\nAs true latter-day story-tellers, both Hawthorne and Kingsley retold\nmany of these myths and legends, and from their classic pages we have\nadapted a number of our tales, and made them somewhat simpler and\nshorter in form. By way of apology for this liberty (if some should\nso consider it), we humbly offer a paragraph from a preface to the\n\"Wonder Book\" written by its author:\n\n\"A great freedom of treatment was necessary but it will be observed\nby every one who attempts to render these legends malleable in his\nintellectual furnace, that they are marvelously independent of all\ntemporary modes and circumstances. They remain essentially the same,\nafter changes that would affect the identity of almost anything else.\"\n\nNow to those who have not jumped over my head, or to those who, having\ndone so, may jump back to this foreword, I trust my few remarks will\nhave given some additional interest in our myths and heroes of lands\nfar and near.\n\nDANIEL EDWIN WHEELER\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF MANY COUNTRIES\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF GREECE AND ROME\n\n\n\nBAUCIS AND PHILEMON\n\nADAPTED BY C.E. SMITH\n\n\nOne evening, in times long ago, old Philemon and his wife Baucis sat\nat their cottage door watching the sunset. They had eaten their supper\nand were enjoying a quiet talk about their garden, and their cow, and\nthe fruit trees on which the pears and apples were beginning to ripen.\nBut their talk was very much disturbed by rude shouts and laughter\nfrom the village children, and by the fierce barking of dogs.\n\n\"I fear,\" said Philemon, \"that some poor traveler is asking for a bed\nin the village, and that these rough people have set the dogs on him.\"\n\n\"Well, I never,\" answered old Baucis. \"I do wish the neighbors would\nbe kinder to poor wanderers; I feel that some terrible punishment will\nhappen to this village if the people are so wicked as to make fun of\nthose who are tired and hungry. As for you and me, so long as we have\na crust of bread, let us always be willing to give half of it to any\npoor homeless stranger who may come along.\"\n\n\"Indeed, that we will,\" said Philemon.\n\nThese old folks, you must know, were very poor, and had to work hard\nfor a living. They seldom had anything to eat except bread and milk,\nand vegetables, with sometimes a little honey from their beehives, or\na few ripe pears and apples from their little garden. But they were\ntwo of the kindest old people in the world, and would have gone\nwithout their dinner any day, rather than refuse a slice of bread or a\ncupful of milk to the weary traveler who might stop at the door.\n\nTheir cottage stood on a little hill a short way from the village,\nwhich lay in a valley; such a pretty valley, shaped like a cup, with\nplenty of green fields and gardens, and fruit trees; it was a pleasure\njust to look at it. But the people who lived in this lovely place\nwere selfish and hard-hearted; they had no pity for the poor, and were\nunkind to those who had no home, and they only laughed when Philemon\nsaid it was right to be gentle to people who were sad and friendless.\n\nThese wicked villagers taught their children to be as bad as\nthemselves. They used to clap their hands and make fun of poor\ntravelers who were tramping wearily from one village to another, and\nthey even taught the dogs to snarl and bark at strangers if their\nclothes were shabby. So the village was known far and near as an\nunfriendly place, where neither help nor pity was to be found.\n\nWhat made it worse, too, was that when rich people came in their\ncarriages, or riding on fine horses, with servants to attend to them,\nthe village people would take off their hats and be very polite and\nattentive: and if the children were rude they got their ears boxed;\nas to the dogs--if a single dog dared to growl at a rich man he was\nbeaten and then tied up without any supper.\n\nSo now you can understand why old Philemon spoke sadly when he heard\nthe shouts of the children, and the barking of the dogs, at the far\nend of the village street.\n\nHe and Baucis sat shaking their heads while the noise came nearer and\nnearer, until they saw two travelers coming along the road on foot.\nA crowd of rude children were following them, shouting and throwing\nstones, and several dogs were snarling at the travelers' heels.\n\nThey were both very plainly dressed, and looked as if they might not\nhave enough money to pay for a night's lodging.\n\n\"Come, wife,\" said Philemon, \"let us go and meet these poor people and\noffer them shelter.\"\n\n\"You go,\" said Baucis, \"while I make ready some supper,\" and she\nhastened indoors.\n\nPhilemon went down the road, and holding out his hand to the two men,\nhe said, \"Welcome, strangers, welcome.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" answered the younger of the two travelers. \"Yours is a\nkind welcome, very different from the one we got in the village; pray\nwhy do you live in such a bad place?\"\n\n\"I think,\" answered Philemon, \"that Providence put me here just to\nmake up as best I can for other people's unkindness.\"\n\nThe traveler laughed heartily, and Philemon was glad to see him in\nsuch good spirits. He took a good look at him and his companion. The\nyounger man was very thin, and was dressed in an odd kind of way.\nThough it was a summer evening, he wore a cloak which was wrapped\ntightly about him; and he had a cap on his head, the brim of which\nstuck out over both ears. There was something queer too about his\nshoes, but as it was getting dark, Philemon could not see exactly what\nthey were like.\n\nOne thing struck Philemon very much, the traveler was so wonderfully\nlight and active that it seemed as if his feet were only kept close to\nthe ground with difficulty. He had a staff in his hand which was the\noddest-looking staff Philemon had seen. It was made of wood and had a\nlittle pair of wings near the top. Two snakes cut into the wood were\ntwisted round the staff, and these were so well carved that Philemon\nalmost thought he could see them wriggling.\n\nThe older man was very tall, and walked calmly along, taking no notice\neither of naughty children or yelping dogs.\n\nWhen they reached the cottage gate, Philemon said, \"We are very poor\nfolk, but you are welcome to whatever we have in the cupboard. My wife\nBaucis has gone to see what you can have for supper.\"\n\nThey sat down on the bench, and the younger stranger let his staff\nfall as he threw himself down on the grass, and then a strange thing\nhappened. The staff seemed to get up from the ground of its own\naccord, and it opened a little pair of wings and half-hopped,\nhalf-flew and leaned itself against the wall of the cottage.\n\nPhilemon was so amazed that he feared he had been dreaming, but before\nhe could ask any questions, the elder stranger said: \"Was there not a\nlake long ago covering the spot where the village now stands?\"\n\n\"Never in my day,\" said old Philemon, \"nor in my father's, nor my\ngrandfather's: there were always fields and meadows just as there are\nnow, and I suppose there always will be.\"\n\n\"That I am not so sure of,\" replied the stranger. \"Since the people in\nthat village have forgotten how to be loving and gentle, maybe it were\nbetter that the lake should be rippling over the cottages again,\" and\nhe looked very sad and stern.\n\nHe was a very important-looking man, Philemon felt, even though his\nclothes were old and shabby; maybe he was some great learned stranger\nwho did not care at all for money or clothes, and was wandering about\nthe world seeking wisdom and knowledge. Philemon was quite sure he\nwas not a common person. But he talked so kindly to Philemon, and\nthe younger traveler made such funny remarks, that they were all\nconstantly laughing.\n\n\"Pray, my young friend, what is your name?\" Philemon asked.\n\n\"Well,\" answered the younger man, \"I am called Mercury, because I am\nso quick.\"\n\n\"What a strange name!\" said Philemon; \"and your friend, what is he\ncalled?\"\n\n\"You must ask the thunder to tell you that,\" said Mercury, \"no other\nvoice is loud enough.\"\n\nPhilemon was a little confused at this answer, but the stranger looked\nso kind and friendly that he began to tell them about his good old\nwife, and what fine butter and cheese she made, and how happy they\nwere in their little garden; and how they loved each other very dearly\nand hoped they might live together till they died. And the stern\nstranger listened with a sweet smile on his face.\n\nBaucis had now got supper ready; not very much of a supper, she told\nthem. There was only half a brown loaf and a bit of cheese, a pitcher\nwith some milk, a little honey, and a bunch of purple grapes. But she\nsaid, \"Had we only known you were coming, my goodman and I would have\ngone without anything in order to give you a better supper.\"\n\n\"Do not trouble,\" said the elder stranger kindly. \"A hearty welcome\nis better than the finest of food, and we are so hungry that what you\nhave to offer us seems a feast.\" Then they all went into the cottage.\n\nAnd now I must tell you something that will make your eyes open. You\nremember that Mercury's staff was leaning against the cottage wall?\nWell, when its owner went in at the door, what should this wonderful\nstaff do but spread its little wings and go hop-hop, flutter-flutter\nup the steps; then it went tap-tap across the kitchen floor and did\nnot stop till it stood close behind Mercury's chair. No one noticed\nthis, as Baucis and her husband were too busy attending to their\nguests.\n\nBaucis filled up two bowls of milk from the pitcher, while her husband\ncut the loaf and the cheese. \"What delightful milk, Mother Baucis,\"\nsaid Mercury, \"may I have some more? This has been such a hot day that\nI am very thirsty.\"\n\n\"Oh dear, I am so sorry and ashamed,\" answered Baucis, \"but the truth\nis there is hardly another drop of milk in the pitcher.\"\n\n\"Let me see,\" said Mercury, starting up and catching hold of the\nhandles, \"why here is certainly more milk in the pitcher.\" He poured\nout a bowlful for himself and another for his companion. Baucis could\nscarcely believe her eyes. \"I suppose I must have made a mistake,\" she\nthought, \"at any rate the pitcher must be empty now after filling both\nbowls twice over.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, my kind hostess,\" said Mercury in a little while, \"but\nyour milk is so good that I should very much like another bowlful.\"\n\nNow Baucis was perfectly sure that the pitcher was empty, and in order\nto show Mercury that there was not another drop in it, she held it\nupside down over his bowl. What was her surprise when a stream of\nfresh milk fell bubbling into the bowl and overflowed on to the table,\nand the two snakes that were twisted round Mercury's staff stretched\nout their heads and began to lap it up.\n\n\"And now, a slice of your brown loaf, pray Mother Baucis, and a little\nhoney,\" asked Mercury.\n\nBaucis handed the loaf, and though it had been rather a hard and dry\nloaf when she and her husband ate some at tea-time, it was now as soft\nand new as if it had just come from the oven. As to the honey, it had\nbecome the color of new gold and had the scent of a thousand flowers,\nand the small grapes in the bunch had grown larger and richer, and\neach one seemed bursting with ripe juice.\n\nAlthough Baucis was a very simple old woman, she could not help\nthinking that there was something rather strange going on. She sat\ndown beside Philemon and told him in a whisper what she had seen.\n\n\"Did you ever hear anything so wonderful?\" she asked.\n\n\"No, I never did,\" answered Philemon, with a smile. \"I fear you have\nbeen in a dream, my dear old wife.\"\n\nHe knew Baucis could not say what was untrue, but he thought that she\nhad not noticed how much milk there had really been in the pitcher\nat first. So when Mercury once more asked for a little milk, Philemon\nrose and lifted the pitcher himself. He peeped in and saw that there\nwas not a drop in it; then all at once a little white fountain gushed\nup from the bottom, and the pitcher was soon filled to the brim\nwith delicious milk.\n\nPhilemon was so amazed that he nearly let the jug fall. \"Who are ye,\nwonder-working strangers?\" he cried.\n\n\"Your guests, good Philemon, and your friends,\" answered the elder\ntraveler, \"and may the pitcher never be empty for kind Baucis and\nyourself any more than for the hungry traveler.\"\n\nThe old people did not like to ask any more questions; they gave the\nguests their own sleeping-room, and then they lay down on the hard\nfloor in the kitchen. It was long before they fell asleep, not because\nthey thought how hard their bed was, but because there was so much to\nwhisper to each other about the wonderful strangers and what they had\ndone.\n\nThey all rose with the sun next morning. Philemon begged the visitors\nto stay a little till Baucis should milk the cow and bake some bread\nfor breakfast. But the travelers seemed to be in a hurry and wished\nto start at once, and they asked Baucis and Philemon to go with them a\nshort distance to show them the way.\n\nSo they all four set out together, and Mercury was so full of fun and\nlaughter, and made them feel so happy and bright, that they would have\nbeen glad to keep him in their cottage every day and all day long.\n\n\"Ah me,\" said Philemon, \"if only our neighbors knew what a pleasure\nit was to be kind to strangers, they would tie up all their dogs and\nnever allow the children to fling another stone.\"\n\n\"It is a sin and shame for them to behave so,\" said Baucis, \"and I\nmean to go this very day and tell some of them how wicked they are.\"\n\n\"I fear,\" said Mercury, smiling, \"that you will not find any of them\nat home.\"\n\nThe old people looked at the elder traveler and his face had grown\nvery grave and stern. \"When men do not feel towards the poorest\nstranger as if he were a brother,\" he said, in a deep, grave voice,\n\"they are not worthy to remain on the earth, which was made just to be\nthe home for the whole family of the human race of men and women and\nchildren.\"\n\n\"And, by the bye,\" said Mercury, with a look of fun and mischief in\nhis eyes, \"where is this village you talk about? I do not see anything\nof it.\"\n\nPhilemon and his wife turned towards the valley, where at sunset only\nthe day before they had seen the trees and gardens, and the houses,\nand the streets with the children playing in them. But there was no\nlonger any sign of the village. There was not even a valley. Instead,\nthey saw a broad lake which filled all the great basin from brim to\nbrim, and whose waters glistened and sparkled in the morning sun.\n\nThe village that had been there only yesterday was now gone!\n\n\"Alas! what has become of our poor neighbors?\" cried the kind-hearted\nold people.\n\n\"They are not men and women any longer,\" answered the elder traveler,\nin a deep voice like distant thunder. \"There was no beauty and no use\nin lives such as theirs, for they had no love for one another, and no\npity in their hearts for those who were poor and weary. Therefore the\nlake that was here in the old, old days has flowed over them, and they\nwill be men and women no more.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mercury, with his mischievous smile, \"these foolish people\nhave all been changed into fishes because they had cold blood which\nnever warmed their hearts, just as the fishes have.\"\n\n\"As for you, good Philemon, and you, kind Baucis,\" said the elder\ntraveler, \"you, indeed, gave a hearty welcome to the homeless\nstrangers. You have done well, my dear old friends, and whatever wish\nyou have most at heart will be granted.\"\n\nPhilemon and Baucis looked at one another, and then I do not know\nwhich spoke, but it seemed as if the voice came from them both. \"Let\nus live together while we live, and let us die together, at the same\ntime, for we have always loved one another.\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" said the elder stranger, and he held out his hands as if\nto bless them. The old couple bent their heads and fell on their knees\nto thank him, and when they lifted their eyes again, neither Mercury\nnor his companion was to be seen.\n\nSo Philemon and Baucis returned to the cottage, and to every traveler\nwho passed that way they offered a drink of milk from the wonderful\npitcher, and if the guest was a kind, gentle soul, he found the milk\nthe sweetest and most refreshing he had ever tasted. But if a cross,\nbad-tempered fellow took even a sip, he found the pitcher full of sour\nmilk, which made him twist his face with dislike and disappointment.\n\nBaucis and Philemon lived a great, great many years and grew very\nold. And one summer morning when their friends came to share their\nbreakfast, neither Baucis nor Philemon was to be found!\n\nThe guests looked everywhere, and all in vain. Then suddenly one of\nthem noticed two beautiful trees in the garden, just in front of\nthe door. One was an oak tree and the other a linden tree, and their\nbranches were twisted together so that they seemed to be embracing.\n\nNo one had ever seen these trees before, and while they were all\nwondering how such fine trees could possibly have grown up in a single\nnight, there came a gentle wind which set the branches moving, and\nthen a mysterious voice was heard coming from the oak tree. \"I am\nold Philemon,\" it said; and again another voice whispered, \"And I am\nBaucis.\" And the people knew that the good old couple would live for a\nhundred years or more in the heart of these lovely trees. And oh, what\na pleasant shade they flung around! Some kind soul built a seat under\nthe branches, and whenever a traveler sat down to rest he heard a\npleasant whisper of the leaves over his head, and he wondered why the\nsound should seem to say, \"Welcome, dear traveler, welcome.\"\n\n\n\n\nPANDORA\n\nADAPTED BY C.E. SMITH\n\n\nLong, long ago, when this old world was still very young, there lived\na child named Epimetheus. He had neither father nor mother, and to\nkeep him company, a little girl, who was fatherless and motherless\nlike himself, was sent from a far country to live with him and be his\nplayfellow. This child's name was Pandora.\n\nThe first thing that Pandora saw, when she came to the cottage where\nEpimetheus lived, was a great wooden box. \"What have you in that box,\nEpimetheus?\" she asked.\n\n\"That is a secret,\" answered Epimetheus, \"and you must not ask any\nquestions about it; the box was left here for safety, and I do not\nknow what is in it.\"\n\n\"But who gave it you?\" asked Pandora, \"and where did it come from?\"\n\n\"That is a secret too,\" answered Epimetheus.\n\n\"How tiresome!\" exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip. \"I wish the great\nugly box were out of the way;\" and she looked very cross.\n\n\"Come along, and let us play games,\" said Epimetheus; \"do not let\nus think any more about it;\" and they ran out to play with the other\nchildren, and for a while Pandora forgot all about the box.\n\nBut when she came back to the cottage, there it was in front of her,\nand instead of paying no heed to it, she began to say to herself:\n\"Whatever can be inside it? I wish I just knew who brought it! Dear\nEpimetheus, do tell me; I know I cannot be happy till you tell me all\nabout it.\"\n\nThen Epimetheus grew a little angry. \"How can I tell you, Pandora?\" he\nsaid, \"I do not know any more than you do.\"\n\n\"Well, you could open it,\" said Pandora, \"and we could see for\nourselves!\"\n\nBut Epimetheus looked so shocked at the very idea of opening a box\nthat had been given to him in trust, that Pandora saw she had better\nnot suggest such a thing again.\n\n\"At least you can tell me how it came here,\" she said.\n\n\"It was left at the door,\" answered Epimetheus, \"just before you came,\nby a queer person dressed in a very strange cloak; he had a cap that\nseemed to be partly made of feathers; it looked exactly as if he had\nwings.\"\n\n\"What kind of a staff had he?\" asked Pandora.\n\n\"Oh, the most curious staff you ever saw,\" cried Epimetheus: \"it\nseemed like two serpents twisted round a stick.\"\n\n\"I know him,\" said Pandora thoughtfully. \"It was Mercury, and he\nbrought me here as well as the box. I am sure he meant the box for me,\nand perhaps there are pretty clothes in it for us to wear, and toys\nfor us both to play with.\"\n\n\"It may be so,\" answered Epimetheus, turning away; \"but until Mercury\ncomes back and tells us that we may open it, neither of us has any\nright to lift the lid;\" and he went out of the cottage.\n\n\"What a stupid boy he is!\" muttered Pandora, \"I do wish he had a\nlittle more spirit.\" Then she stood gazing at the box. She had called\nit ugly a hundred times, but it was really a very handsome box, and\nwould have been an ornament in any room.\n\nIt was made of beautiful dark wood, so dark and so highly polished\nthat Pandora could see her face in it. The edges and the corners were\nwonderfully carved. On these were faces of lovely women, and of the\nprettiest children, who seemed to be playing among the leaves and\nflowers. But the most beautiful face of all was one which had a wreath\nof flowers about its brow. All around it was the dark, smooth-polished\nwood with this strange face looking out from it, and some days Pandora\nthought it was laughing at her, while at other times it had a very\ngrave look which made her rather afraid.\n\nThe box was not fastened with a lock and key like most boxes, but with\na strange knot of gold cord. There never was a knot so queerly\ntied; it seemed to have no end and no beginning, but was twisted so\ncunningly, with so many ins and outs, that not even the cleverest\nfingers could undo it.\n\nPandora began to examine the knot just to see how it was made. \"I\nreally believe,\" she said to herself, \"that I begin to see how it is\ndone. I am sure I could tie it up again after undoing it. There could\nbe no harm in that; I need not open the box even if I undo the knot.\"\nAnd the longer she looked at it, the more she wanted just to try.\n\nSo she took the gold cord in her fingers and examined it very\nclosely. Then she raised her head, and happening to glance at the\nflower-wreathed face, she thought it was grinning at her. \"I wonder\nwhether it is smiling because I am doing wrong,\" thought Pandora, \"I\nhave a good mind to leave the box alone and run away.\"\n\nBut just at that moment, as if by accident, she gave the knot a little\nshake, and the gold cord untwisted itself as if by magic, and there\nwas the box without any fastening.\n\n\"This is the strangest thing I have ever known,\" said Pandora, rather\nfrightened, \"What will Epimetheus say? How can I possibly tie it up\nagain?\"\n\nShe tried once or twice, but the knot would not come right. It had\nuntied itself so suddenly she could not remember in the least how the\ncord had been twisted together. So there was nothing to be done but to\nlet the box remain unfastened until Epimetheus should come home.\n\n\"But,\" thought Pandora; \"when he finds the knot untied he will know\nthat I have done it; how shall I ever make him believe that I have not\nlooked into the box?\" And then the naughty thought came into her head\nthat, as Epimetheus would believe that she had looked into the box,\nshe might just as well have a little peep.\n\nShe looked at the face with the wreath, and it seemed to smile at her\ninvitingly, as much as to say: \"Do not be afraid, what harm can there\npossibly be in raising the lid for a moment?\" And then she thought\nshe heard voices inside, tiny voices that whispered: \"Let us out, dear\nPandora, do let us out; we want very much to play with you if you will\nonly let us out?\"\n\n\"What can it be?\" said Pandora. \"Is there something alive in the box?\nYes, I must just see, only one little peep and the lid will be shut\ndown as safely as ever. There cannot really be any harm in just one\nlittle peep.\"\n\nAll this time Epimetheus had been playing with the other children in\nthe fields, but he did not feel happy. This was the first time he had\nplayed without Pandora, and he was so cross and discontented that the\nother children could not think what was the matter with him. You see,\nup to this time everybody in the world had always been happy, no one\nhad ever been ill, or naughty, or miserable; the world was new and\nbeautiful, and the people who lived in it did not know what trouble\nmeant. So Epimetheus could not understand what was the matter with\nhimself, and he stopped trying to play games and went back to Pandora.\n\nOn the way home he gathered a bunch of lovely roses, and lilies, and\norange-blossoms, and with these he made a wreath to give Pandora, who\nwas very fond of flowers. He noticed there was a great black cloud in\nthe sky, which was creeping nearer and nearer to the sun, and just as\nEjpimetheus reached the cottage door the cloud went right over the sun\nand made everything look dark and sad.\n\nEpimetheus went in quietly, for he wanted to surprise Pandora with the\nwreath of flowers. And what do you think he saw? The naughty little\ngirl had put her hand on the lid of the box and was just going to open\nit. Epimetheus saw this quite well, and if he had cried out at once it\nwould have given Pandora such a fright she would have let go the lid.\nBut Epimetheus was very naughty too. Although he had said very little\nabout the box, he was just as curious as Pandora was to see what was\ninside: if they really found anything pretty or valuable in it, he\nmeant to take half of it for himself; so that he was just as naughty,\nand nearly as much to blame as his companion.\n\nWhen Pandora raised the lid, the cottage had grown very dark, for the\nblack cloud now covered the sun entirely and a heavy peal of thunder\nwas heard. But Pandora was too busy and excited to notice this: she\nlifted the lid right up, and at once a swarm of creatures with wings\nflew out of the box, and a minute after she heard Epimetheus crying\nloudly: \"Oh, I am stung, I am stung! You naughty Pandora, why did you\nopen this wicked box?\"\n\nPandora let the lid fall with a crash and started up to find out what\nhad happened to her playmate. The thunder-cloud had made the room so\ndark that she could scarcely see, but she heard a loud buzz-buzzing,\nas if a great many huge flies had flown in, and soon she saw a crowd\nof ugly little shapes darting about, with wings like bats and with\nterribly long stings in their tails. It was one of these that had\nstung Epimetheus, and it was not long before Pandora began to\nscream with pain and fear. An ugly little monster had settled on\nher forehead, and would have stung her badly had not Epimetheus run\nforward and brushed it away.\n\nNow I must tell you that these ugly creatures with stings, which had\nescaped from the box, were the whole family of earthly troubles. There\nwere evil tempers, and a great many kinds of cares: and there were\nmore than a hundred and fifty sorrows, and there were diseases in many\npainful shapes. In fact all the sorrows and worries that hurt people\nin the world to-day had been shut up in the magic-box, and given\nto Epimetheus and Pandora to keep safely, in order that the happy\nchildren in the world might never be troubled by them. If only these\ntwo had obeyed Mercury and had left the box alone as he told them, all\nwould have gone well.\n\nBut you see what mischief they had done. The winged troubles flew out\nat the window and went all over the world: and they made people so\nunhappy that no one smiled for a great many days. It was very strange,\ntoo, that from this day flowers began to fade, and after a short time\nthey died, whereas in the old times, before Pandora opened the box,\nthey had been always fresh and beautiful.\n\nMeanwhile Pandora and Epimetheus remained in the cottage: they were\nvery miserable and in great pain, which made them both exceedingly\ncross. Epimetheus sat down sullenly in a corner with his back to\nPandora, while Pandora flung herself on the floor and cried bitterly,\nresting her head on the lid of the fatal box.\n\nSuddenly, she heard a gentle tap-tap inside. \"What can that be?\" said\nPandora, raising her head; and again came the tap, tap. It sounded\nlike the knuckles of a tiny hand knocking lightly on the inside of the\nbox.\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked Pandora.\n\nA sweet little voice came from inside: \"Only lift the lid and you will\nsee.\"\n\nBut Pandora was afraid to lift the lid again. She looked across\nto Epimetheus, but he was so cross that he took no notice. Pandora\nsobbed: \"No, no, I am afraid; there are so many troubles with stings\nflying about that we do not want any more?\"\n\n\"Ah, but I am not one of these,\" the sweet voice said, \"they are no\nrelations of mine. Come, come, dear Pandora, I am sure you will let me\nout.\"\n\nThe voice sounded so kind and cheery that it made Pandora feel better\neven to listen to it. Epimetheus too had heard the voice. He stopped\ncrying. Then he came forward, and said: \"Let me help you, Pandora, as\nthe lid is very heavy.\"\n\nSo this time both the children opened the box, and out flew a bright,\nsmiling little fairy, who brought light and sunshine with her. She\nflew to Epimetheus and with her finger touched his brow where the\ntrouble had stung him, and immediately the pain was gone.\n\nThen she kissed Pandora, and her hurt was better at once.\n\n[Illustration: OUT FLEW A BRIGHT SMILING LITTLE FAIRY.]\n\n\"Pray who are you, kind fairy?\" Pandora asked.\n\n\"I am called Hope,\" answered the sunshiny figure. \"I was shut up in\nthe box so that I might be ready to comfort people when the family of\ntroubles got loose in the world.\"\n\n\"What lovely wings you have! They are just like a rainbow. And will\nyou stay with us,\" asked Epimetheus, \"for ever and ever?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Hope, \"I shall stay with you as long as you live.\nSometimes you will not be able to see me, and you may think I am dead,\nbut you will find that I come back again and again when you have given\nup expecting me, and you must always trust my promise that I will\nnever really leave you.\"\n\n\"Yes, we do trust you,\" cried both children. And all the rest of their\nlives when the troubles came back and buzzed about their heads and\nleft bitter stings of pain, Pandora and Epimetheus would remember\nwhose fault it was that the troubles had ever come into the world\nat all, and they would then wait patiently till the fairy with the\nrainbow wings came back to heal and comfort them.\n\n\n\n\nMIDAS\n\nADAPTED BY C.E. SMITH\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a very rich King whose name was Midas,\nand he had a little daughter whom he loved very dearly. This King was\nfonder of gold than of anything else in the whole world: or if he did\nlove anything better, it was the one little daughter who played so\nmerrily beside her father's footstool.\n\nBut the more Midas loved his daughter, the more he wished to be rich\nfor her sake. He thought, foolish man, that the best thing he could do\nfor his child was to leave her the biggest pile of yellow glittering\ngold that had ever been heaped together since the world began. So he\ngave all his thoughts and all his time to this purpose.\n\nWhen he worked in his garden, he used to wish that the roses had\nleaves made of gold, and once when his little daughter brought him\na handful of yellow buttercups, he exclaimed, \"Now if these had only\nbeen real gold they would have been worth gathering.\" He very soon\nforgot how beautiful the flowers, and the grass, and the trees were,\nand at the time my story begins Midas could scarcely bear to see or to\ntouch anything that was not made of gold.\n\nEvery day he used to spend a great many hours in a dark, ugly room\nunderground: it was here that he kept all his money, and whenever\nMidas wanted to be very happy he would lock himself into this\nmiserable room and would spend hours and hours pouring the glittering\ncoins out of his money-bags. Or he would count again and again the\nbars of gold which were kept in a big oak chest with a great iron lock\nin the lid, and sometimes he would carry a boxful of gold dust from\nthe dark corner where it lay, and would look at the shining heap by\nthe light that came from a tiny window.\n\nTo his greedy eyes there never seemed to be half enough; he was quite\ndiscontented. \"What a happy man I should be,\" he said one day, \"if\nonly the whole world could be made of gold, and if it all belonged to\nme!\"\n\nJust then a shadow fell across the golden pile, and when Midas looked\nup he saw a young man with a cheery rosy face standing in the thin\nstrip of sunshine that came through the little window. Midas was\ncertain that he had carefully locked the door before he opened his\nmoney-bags, so he knew that no one, unless he were more than a mortal,\ncould get in beside him. The stranger seemed so friendly and pleasant\nthat Midas was not in the least afraid.\n\n\"You are a rich man, friend Midas,\" the visitor said. \"I doubt if any\nother room in the whole world has as much gold in it as this.\"\n\n\"May be,\" said Midas in a discontented voice, \"but I wish it were much\nmore; and think how many years it has taken me to gather it all! If\nonly I could live for a thousand years, then I might be really rich.\n\n\"Then you are not satisfied?\" asked the stranger. Midas shook his\nhead.\n\n\"What would satisfy you?\" the stranger said.\n\nMidas looked at his visitor for a minute, and then said, \"I am tired\nof getting money with so much trouble. I should like everything I\ntouch to be changed into gold.\"\n\nThe stranger smiled, and his smile seemed to fill the room like a\nflood of sunshine. \"Are you quite sure, Midas, that you would never be\nsorry if your wish were granted?\" he asked.\n\n\"Quite sure,\" said Midas: \"I ask nothing more to make me perfectly\nhappy.\"\n\n\"Be it as you wish, then,\" said the stranger: \"from to-morrow at\nsunrise you will have your desire--everything you touch will be\nchanged into gold.\"\n\nThe figure of the stranger then grew brighter and brighter, so that\nMidas had to close his eyes, and when he opened them again he saw\nonly a yellow sunbeam in the room, and all around him glittered the\nprecious gold which he had spent his life in gathering.\n\nHow Midas longed for the next day to come! He scarcely slept that\nnight, and as soon as it was light he laid his hand on the chair\nbeside his bed; then he nearly cried when he saw that nothing\nhappened: the chair remained just as it was. \"Could the stranger have\nmade a mistake,\" he wondered, \"or had it been a dream?\"\n\nHe lay still, getting angrier and angrier each minute until at\nlast the sun rose, and the first rays shone through his window and\nbrightened the room. It seemed to Midas that the bright yellow sunbeam\nwas reflected very curiously from the covering of his bed, and he sat\nup and looked more closely.\n\nWhat was his delight when he saw that the bedcover on which his hands\nrested had become a woven cloth of the purest and brightest gold!\nHe started up and caught hold of the bed-post--instantly it became a\ngolden pillar. He pulled aside the window-curtain and the tassel grew\nheavy in his hand--it was a mass of gold! He took up a book from\nthe table, and at his first touch it became a bundle of thin golden\nleaves, in which no reading could be seen.\n\nMidas was delighted with his good fortune. He took his spectacles from\nhis pocket and put them on, so that he might see more distinctly what\nhe was about. But to his surprise he could not possibly see through\nthem: the clear glasses had turned into gold, and, of course, though\nthey were worth a great deal of money, they were of no more use as\nspectacles.\n\nMidas thought this was rather troublesome, but he soon forgot all\nabout it. He went downstairs, and how he laughed with pleasure when he\nnoticed that the railing became a bar of shining gold as he rested his\nhand on it; even the rusty iron latch of the garden door turned yellow\nas soon as his fingers pressed it.\n\nHow lovely the garden was! In the old days Midas had been very fond of\nflowers, and had spent a great deal of money in getting rare trees and\nflowers with which to make his garden beautiful.\n\nRed roses in full bloom scented the air: purple and white violets\nnestled under the rose-bushes, and birds were singing happily in the\ncherry-trees, which were covered with snow-white blossoms. But since\nMidas had become so fond of gold he had lost all pleasure in his\ngarden: this morning he did not even see how beautiful it was.\n\nHe was thinking of nothing but the wonderful gift the stranger had\nbrought him, and he was sure he could make the garden of far more\nvalue than it had ever been. So he went from bush to bush and touched\nthe flowers. And the beautiful pink and red color faded from the\nroses: the violets became stiff, and then glittered among bunches of\nhard yellow leaves: and showers of snow-white blossoms no longer fell\nfrom the cherry-trees; the tiny petals were all changed into flakes\nof solid gold, which glittered so brightly in the sunbeams that Midas\ncould not bear to look at them.\n\nBut he was quite satisfied with his morning's work, and went back to\nthe palace for breakfast feeling very happy.\n\nJust then he heard his little daughter crying bitterly, and she came\nrunning into the room sobbing as if her heart would break. \"How\nnow, little lady,\" he said, \"pray what is the matter with you this\nmorning?\"\n\n\"Oh dear, oh dear, such a dreadful thing has happened!\" answered the\nchild. \"I went to the garden to gather you some roses, and they are\nall spoiled; they have grown quite ugly, and stiff, and yellow, and\nthey have no scent. What can be the matter?\" and she cried bitterly.\n\nMidas was ashamed to confess that he was to blame, so he said nothing,\nand they sat down at the table. The King was very hungry, and he\npoured out a cup of coffee and helped himself to some fish, but the\ninstant his lips touched the coffee it became the color of gold, and\nthe next moment it hardened into a solid lump. \"Oh dear me!\" exclaimed\nthe King, rather surprised.\n\n\"What is the matter, father?\" asked his little daughter.\n\n\"Nothing, child, nothing,\" he answered; \"eat your bread and milk\nbefore it gets cold.\"\n\nThen he looked at the nice little fish on his plate, and he gently\ntouched its tail with his finger. To his horror it at once changed\ninto gold. He took one of the delicious hot cakes, and he had scarcely\nbroken it when the white flour changed into yellow crumbs which shone\nlike grains of hard sea-sand.\n\n\"I do not see how I am going to get any breakfast,\" he said to\nhimself, and he looked with envy at his little daughter, who had dried\nher tears and was eating her bread and milk hungrily. \"I wonder if it\nwill be the same at dinner,\" he thought, \"and if so, how am I going to\nlive if all my food is to be turned into gold?\"\n\nMidas began to get very anxious and to think about many things he\nhad never thought of before. Here was the very richest breakfast that\ncould be set before a King, and yet there was nothing that he could\neat! The poorest workman sitting down to a crust of bread and a cup of\nwater was better off than King Midas, whose dainty food was worth its\nweight in gold.\n\nHe began to doubt whether, after all, riches were the only good thing\nin the world, and he was so hungry that he gave a groan.\n\nHis little daughter noticed that her father ate nothing, and at first\nshe sat still looking at him and trying to find out what was the\nmatter. Then she got down from her chair, and running to her father,\nshe threw her arms lovingly round his knees.\n\nMidas bent down and kissed her. He felt that his little daughter's\nlove was a thousand times more precious than all the gold he had\ngained since the stranger came to visit him. \"My precious, precious\nlittle girl!\" he said, but there was no answer.\n\nAlas! what had he done? The moment that his lips had touched his\nchild's forehead, a change took place. Her sweet, rosy face, so full\nof love and happiness, hardened and became a glittering yellow color;\nher beautiful brown curls hung like wires of gold from the small head,\nand her soft, tender little figure grew stiff in his arms.\n\nMidas had often said to people that his little daughter was worth her\nweight in gold, and it had become really true. Now when it was too\nlate, he felt how much more precious was the warm tender heart that\nloved him than all the gold that could be piled up between the earth\nand sky.\n\nHe began to wring his hands and to wish that he was the poorest man in\nthe wide world, if the loss of all his money might bring back the rosy\ncolor to his dear child's face.\n\nWhile he was in despair he suddenly saw a stranger standing near the\ndoor, the same visitor he had seen yesterday for the first time in his\ntreasure-room, and who had granted his wish.\n\n\"Well, friend Midas,\" he said, \"pray how are you enjoying your new\npower?\"\n\nMidas shook his head. \"I am very miserable,\" he said.\n\n\"Very miserable, are you?\" exclaimed the stranger. \"And how does that\nhappen: have I not faithfully kept my promise; have you not everything\nthat your heart desired?\"\n\n\"Gold is not everything,\" answered Midas, \"and I have lost all that my\nheart really cared for.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the stranger, \"I see you have made some discoveries since\nyesterday. Tell me truly, which of these things do you really think\nis most worth--a cup of clear cold water and a crust of bread, or\nthe power of turning everything you touch into gold; your own little\ndaughter, alive and loving, or that solid statue of a child which\nwould be valued at thousands of dollars?\"\n\n\"O my child, my child!\" sobbed Midas, wringing his hands. \"I would not\nhave given one of her curls for the power of changing all the world\ninto gold, and I would give all I possess for a cup of cold water and\na crust of bread.\"\n\n\"You are wiser than you were, King Midas,\" said the stranger. \"Tell\nme, do you really wish to get rid of your fatal gift?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Midas, \"it is hateful to me.\"\n\n\"Go then,\" said the stranger, \"and plunge into the river that flows at\nthe bottom of the garden: take also a pitcher of the same water, and\nsprinkle it over anything that you wish to change back again from gold\nto its former substance.\"\n\nKing Midas bowed low, and when he lifted his head the stranger was\nnowhere to be seen.\n\nYou may easily believe that King Midas lost no time in getting a\nbig pitcher, then he ran towards the river. On reaching the water\nhe jumped in without even waiting to take off his shoes. \"How\ndelightful!\" he said, as he came out with his hair all dripping, \"this\nis really a most refreshing bath, and surely it must have washed away\nthe magic gift.\"\n\nThen he dipped the pitcher into the water, and how glad he was to see\nthat it became just a common earthen pitcher and not a golden one as\nit had been five minutes before! He was conscious, also of a change in\nhimself: a cold, heavy weight seemed to have gone, and he felt light,\nand happy, and human once more. Maybe his heart had been changing into\ngold too, though he could not see it, and now it had softened again\nand become gentle and kind.\n\nMidas hurried back to the palace with the pitcher of water, and the\nfirst thing he did was to sprinkle it by handfuls all over the golden\nfigure of his little daughter. You would have laughed to see how the\nrosy color came back to her cheeks, and how she began to sneeze and\nchoke, and how surprised she was to find herself dripping wet and her\nfather still throwing water over her.\n\nYou see she did not know that she had been a little golden statue, for\nshe could not remember anything from the moment when she ran to kiss\nher father.\n\nKing Midas then led his daughter into the garden, where he sprinkled\nall the rest of the water over the rose-bushes, and the grass, and the\ntrees; and in a minute they were blooming as freshly as ever, and the\nair was laden with the scent of the flowers.\n\nThere were two things left, which, as long as he lived, used to remind\nKing Midas of the stranger's fatal gift. One was that the sands at\nthe bottom of the river always sparkled like grains of gold: and the\nother, that his little daughter's curls were no longer brown. They had\na golden tinge which had not been there before that miserable day when\nhe had received the fatal gift, and when his kiss had changed them\ninto gold.\n\n\n\n\nCADMUS\n\nADAPTED BY C.E. SMITH\n\n\nCadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, the three sons of King Agenor, were\nplaying near the seashore in their father's kingdom of Phoenicia, and\ntheir little sister Europa was beside them.\n\nThey had wandered to some distance from the King's palace and were now\nin a green field, on one side of which lay the sea, sparkling brightly\nin the sunshine, and with little waves breaking on the shore.\n\nThe three boys were very happy gathering flowers and making wreaths\nfor their sister Europa. The little girl was almost hidden under the\nflowers and leaves, and her rosy face peeped merrily out among them.\nShe was really the prettiest flower of them all.\n\nWhile they were busy and happy, a beautiful butterfly came flying\npast, and the three boys, crying out that it was a flower with wings,\nset off to try to catch it.\n\nEuropa did not run after them. She was a little tired with playing all\nday long, so she sat still on the green grass and very soon she closed\nher eyes.\n\nFor a time she listened to the sea, which sounded, she thought, just\nlike a voice saying, \"Hush, hush,\" and telling her to go to sleep. But\nif she slept at all it was only for a minute. Then she heard something\ntramping on the grass and, when she looked up, there was a snow-white\nbull quite close to her!\n\nWhere could he have come from? Europa was very frightened, and she\nstarted up from among the tulips and lilies and cried out, \"Cadmus,\nbrother Cadmus, where are you? Come and drive this bull away.\" But her\nbrother was too far off to hear her, and Europa was so frightened that\nher voice did not sound very loud; so there she stood with her blue\neyes big with fear, and her pretty red mouth wide open, and her face\nas pale as the lilies that were lying on her golden hair.\n\nAs the bull did not touch her she began to peep at him, and she saw\nthat he was a very beautiful animal; she even fancied he looked quite\na kind bull. He had soft, tender, brown eyes, and horns as smooth\nand white as ivory: and when he breathed you could feel the scent of\nrosebuds and clover blossoms in the air.\n\nThe bull ran little races round Europa and allowed her to stroke his\nforehead with her small hands, and to hang wreaths of flowers on his\nhorns. He was just like a pet lamb, and very soon Europa quite forgot\nhow big and strong he really was and how frightened she had been.\nShe pulled some grass and he ate it out of her hand and seemed quite\npleased to be friends. He ran up and down the field as lightly as a\nbird hopping in a tree; his hoofs scarcely seemed to touch the grass,\nand once when he galloped a good long way Europa was afraid she would\nnot see him again, and she called out, \"Come back, you dear bull, I\nhave got you a pink clover-blossom.\" Then he came running and bowed\nhis head before Europa as if he knew she was a King's daughter, and\nknelt down at her feet, inviting her to get on his back and have a\nride.\n\nAt first Europa was afraid: then she thought there could surely be no\ndanger in having just one ride on the back of such a gentle animal,\nand the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to go.\n\nWhat a surprise it would be to Cadmus, and Phoenix, and Cilix if they\nmet her riding across the green field, and what fun it would be if\nthey could all four ride round and round the field on the back of this\nbeautiful white bull that was so tame and kind!\n\n\"I think I will do it,\" she said, and she looked round the field.\nCadmus and his brothers were still chasing the butterfly away at the\nfar end. \"If I got on the bull's back I should soon be beside them,\"\nshe thought. So she moved nearer, and the gentle white creature looked\nso pleased, and so kind, she could not resist any longer, and with a\nlight bound she sprang up on his back: and there she sat holding an\nivory horn in each hand to keep her steady.\n\n\"Go very gently, good bull,\" she said, and the animal gave a little\nleap in the air and came down as lightly as a feather. Then he began a\nrace to that part of the field where the brothers were, and where they\nhad just caught the splendid butterfly. Europa shouted with delight,\nand how surprised the brothers were to see their sister mounted on the\nback of a white bull!\n\nThey stood with their mouths wide open, not sure whether to be\nfrightened or not. But the bull played round them as gently as a\nkitten, and Europa looked down all rosy and laughing, and they were\nquite envious. Then when he turned to take another gallop round the\nfield, Europa waved her hand and called out \"Good-by,\" as if she was\noff for a journey, and Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix shouted \"Good-by\"\nall in one breath. They all thought it such good fun.\n\nAnd then, what do you think happened? The white bull set off as\nquickly as before, and ran straight down to the seashore. He scampered\nacross the sand, then he took a big leap and plunged right in among\nthe waves. The white spray rose in a shower all over him and Europa,\nand the poor child screamed with fright. The brothers ran as fast as\nthey could to the edge of the water, but it was too late.\n\nThe white bull swam very fast and was soon far away in the wide blue\nsea, with only his snowy head and tail showing above the water. Poor\nEuropa was holding on with one hand to the ivory horn and stretching\nthe other back towards her dear brothers.\n\nAnd there stood Cadmus and Phoenix and Cilix looking after her and\ncrying bitterly, until they could no longer see the white head among\nthe waves that sparkled in the sunshine.\n\nNothing more could be seen of the white bull, and nothing more of\ntheir beautiful sister.\n\nThis was a sad tale for the three boys to carry back to their parents.\nKing Agenor loved his little girl Europa more than his kingdom or\nanything else in the world, and when Cadmus came home crying and told\nhow a white bull had carried off his sister, the King was very angry\nand full of grief.\n\n\"You shall never see my face again,\" he cried, \"unless you bring back\nmy little Europa. Begone, and enter my presence no more till you come\nleading her by the hand;\" and his eyes flashed fire and he looked so\nterribly angry that the poor boys did not even wait for supper, but\nstole out of the palace wondering where they should go first.\n\nWhile they were standing at the gate, the Queen came hurrying after\nthem. \"Dear children,\" she said, \"I will come with you.\"\n\n\"Oh no, mother,\" the boys answered, \"it is a dark night, and there is\nno knowing what troubles we may meet with; the blame is ours, and we\nhad better go alone.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the poor Queen, weeping, \"Europa is lost, and if I should\nlose my three sons as well, what would become of me? I must go with my\nchildren.\"\n\nThe boys tried to persuade her to stay at home, but the Queen cried so\nbitterly that they had to let her go with them.\n\nJust as they were about to start, their playfellow Theseus came\nrunning to join them. He loved Europa very much, and longed to search\nfor her too. So the five set off together: the Queen, and Cadmus,\nand Phoenix, and Cilix, and Theseus, and the last they heard was King\nAgenor's angry voice saying, \"Remember this, never may you come up\nthese steps again, till you bring back my little daughter.\"\n\nThe Queen and her young companions traveled many a weary mile: the\ndays grew to months, and the months became years, and still they found\nno trace of the lost Princess. Their clothes were worn and shabby, and\nthe peasant people looked curiously at them when they asked, \"Have you\nseen a snow-white bull with a little Princess on its back, riding as\nswiftly as the wind?\"\n\nAnd the farmers would answer, \"We have many bulls in our fields, but\nnone that would allow a little Princess to ride on its back: we have\nnever seen such a sight.\"\n\nAt last Phoenix grew weary of the search. \"I do not believe Europa\nwill ever be found, and I shall stay here,\" he said one day when they\ncame to a pleasant spot. So the others helped him to build a small hut\nto live in, then they said good-by and went on without him.\n\nThen Cilix grew tired too. \"It is so many years now since Europa was\ncarried away that she would not know me if I found her. I shall wait\nhere,\" he said. So Cadmus and Theseus built a hut for him too, and\nthen said good-by.\n\nAfter many long months Theseus broke his ankle, and he too had to\nbe left behind, and once more the Queen and Cadmus wandered on to\ncontinue the search.\n\nThe poor Queen was worn and sad, and she leaned very heavily on her\nson's arm. \"Cadmus,\" she said one day, \"I must stay and rest.\"\n\n\"Why, yes, mother, of course you shall, a long, long rest you must\nhave, and I will sit beside you and watch.\"\n\nBut the Queen knew she could go no further. \"Cadmus,\" she said, \"you\nmust leave me here, and, go to the wise woman at Delphi and ask her\nwhat you must do next. Promise me you will go!\"\n\nAnd Cadmus promised. The tired Queen lay down to rest, and in the\nmorning Cadmus found that she was dead, and he must journey on alone.\n\nHe wandered for many days till he came in sight of a high mountain\nwhich the people told him was called Parnassus, and on the steep\nside of this mountain was the famous city of Delphi for which he was\nlooking. The wise woman lived far up the mountain-side, in a hut like\nthose he had helped his brothers to build by the roadside.\n\nWhen he pushed aside the branches he found himself in a low cave, with\na hole in the wall through which a strong wind was blowing. He bent\ndown and put his mouth to the hole and said, \"O sacred goddess, tell\nme where I must look now for my dear sister Europa, who was carried\noff so long ago by a bull?\"\n\nAt first there was no answer. Then a voice said softly, three times,\n\"Seek her no more, seek her no more, seek her no more.\"\n\n\"What shall I do, then?\" said Cadmus. And the answer came, in a hoarse\nvoice, \"Follow the cow, follow the cow, follow the cow.\"\n\n\"But what cow,\" cried Cadmus, \"and where shall I follow?\"\n\nAnd once more the voice came, \"Where the stray cow lies down, there is\nyour home;\" and then there was silence.\n\n\"Have I been dreaming?\" Cadmus thought, \"or did I really hear a\nvoice?\" and he went away thinking he was very little wiser for having\ndone as the Queen had told him.\n\nI do not know how far he had gone when just before him he saw a\nbrindled cow. She was lying down by the wayside, and as Cadmus came\nalong she got up and began to move slowly along the path, stopping now\nand then to crop a mouthful of grass.\n\nCadmus wondered if this could be the cow he was to follow, and he\nthought he would look at her more closely, so he walked a little\nfaster; but so did the cow. \"Stop, cow,\" he cried, \"hey brindle,\nstop,\" and he began to run; and much to his surprise so did the cow,\nand though he ran as hard as possible, he could not overtake her.\n\nSo he gave it up. \"I do believe this may be the cow I was told about,\"\nhe thought. \"Any way, I may as well follow her and surely she will lie\ndown somewhere.\"\n\nOn and on they went. Cadmus thought the cow would never stop, and\nother people who had heard the strange story began to follow too, and\nthey were all very tired and very far away from home when at last the\ncow lay down. His companions were delighted and began to cut down wood\nto make a fire, and some ran to a stream to get water. Cadmus lay\ndown to rest close beside the cow. He was wishing that his mother\nand brothers and Theseus had been with him now, when suddenly he was\nstartled by cries and shouts and screams.\n\nHe ran towards the stream, and there he saw the head of a big serpent\nor dragon, with fiery eyes and with wide open jaws which showed rows\nand rows of horrible sharp teeth. Before Cadmus could reach it, the\nmonster had killed all his poor companions and was busy devouring\nthem. The stream was an enchanted one, and the dragon had been told to\nguard it so that no mortal might ever touch the water, and the people\nround about knew this, so that for a hundred years none of them had\never come near the spot.\n\nThe dragon had been asleep and was very hungry, and when he saw Cadmus\nhe opened his huge jaws again, ready to devour him too. But Cadmus was\nvery angry at the death of all his companions, and drawing his sword\nhe rushed at the monster. With one big bound he leaped right into the\ndragon's mouth, so far down that the two rows of terrible teeth could\nnot close on him or do him any harm. The dragon lashed with his tail\nfuriously, but Cadmus stabbed him again and again, and in a short time\nthe great monster lay dead.\n\n\"What shall I do now?\" he said aloud. All his companions were dead,\nand he was alone once more. \"Cadmus,\" said a voice, \"pluck out the\ndragon's teeth and plant them in the earth.\"\n\nCadmus looked round and there was nobody to be seen. But he set to\nwork and cut out the huge teeth with his sword, and then he made\nlittle holes in the ground and planted the teeth. In a few minutes the\nearth was covered with rows of armed men, fierce-looking soldiers with\nswords and helmets who stood looking at Cadmus in silence.\n\n\"Throw a stone among these men,\" came the voice again, and Cadmus\nobeyed. At once all the men began to fight, and they cut and stabbed\neach other so furiously that in a short time only five remained alive\nout of all the hundreds that had stood before him. \"Cadmus,\" said\nthe voice once more, \"tell these men to stop fighting and help you\nto build a palace.\" And as soon as Cadmus spoke, the five big men\nsheathed their swords, and they began to carry stones, and to carve\nthese for Cadmus, as if they had never thought of such a thing as\nfighting each other!\n\nThey built a house for each of themselves, and there was a beautiful\npalace for Cadmus made of marble, and of fine kinds of red and green\nstone, and there was a high tower with a flag floating from a tall\ngold flag-post.\n\nWhen everything was ready, Cadmus went to take possession of his new\nhouse, and, as he entered the great hall, he saw a lady coming slowly\ntowards him. She was very lovely and she wore a royal robe which shone\nlike sunbeams, with a crown of stars on her golden hair, and round her\nneck was a string of the fairest pearls.\n\nCadmus was full of delight. Could this be his long lost sister Europa\ncoming to make him happy after all these weary years of searching and\nwandering?\n\nHow much he had to tell her about Phoenix, and Cilix, and dear Theseus\nand of the poor Queen's lonely grave in the wilderness! But as he went\nforward to meet the beautiful lady he saw she was a stranger. He\nwas thinking what he should say to her, when once again he heard the\nunknown voice speak.\n\n\"No, Cadmus,\" it said, \"this is not your dear sister whom you have\nsought so faithfully all over the wide world. This is Harmonia,\na daughter of the sky, who is given to you instead of sister and\nbrother, and friend and mother. She is your Queen, and will make happy\nthe home which you have won by so much suffering.\"\n\nSo King Cadmus lived in the palace with his beautiful Queen, and\nbefore many years passed there were rosy little children playing in\nthe great hall, and on the marble steps of the palace, and running\njoyfully to meet King Cadmus as he came home from looking after his\nsoldiers and his workmen.\n\nAnd the five old soldiers that sprang from the dragon's teeth grew\nvery fond of these little children, and they were never tired of\nshowing them how to play with wooden swords and to blow on a penny\ntrumpet, and beat a drum and march like soldiers to battle.\n\n\n\n\nPROSERPINA\n\nADAPTED BY C.E. SMITH\n\n\nMother Ceres was very fond of her little daughter Proserpina. She did\nnot of ten let her go alone into the fields for fear she should be\nlost. But just at the time when my story begins she was very busy.\nShe had to look after the wheat and the corn, and the apples and the\npears, all over the world, and as the weather had been bad day after\nday she was afraid none of them would be ripe when harvest-time came.\n\nSo this morning Mother Ceres put on her turban made of scarlet poppies\nand got into her car. This car was drawn by a pair of winged dragons\nwhich went very fast, and Mother Ceres was just ready to start, when\nProserpina said, \"Dear mother, I shall be very lonely while you are\naway, may I run down to the sands, and ask some of the sea-children to\ncome out of the water to play with me?\"\n\n\"Yes, child, you may,\" answered Mother Ceres, \"but you must take care\nnot to stray away from them, and you are not to play in the fields by\nyourself with no one to take care of you.\"\n\nProserpina promised to remember what her mother said, and by the time\nthe dragons with their big wings had whirled the car out of sight she\nwas already on the shore, calling to the sea-children to come to play\nwith her.\n\nThey knew Proserpina's voice and came at once: pretty children with\nwavy sea-green hair and shining faces, and they sat down on the wet\nsand where the waves could still break over them, and began to make a\nnecklace for Proserpina of beautiful shells brought from their home at\nthe bottom of the sea.\n\nProserpina was so delighted when they hung the necklace round her neck\nthat she wanted to give them something in return. \"Will you come with\nme into the fields,\" she asked, \"and I will gather flowers and make\nyou each a wreath?\"\n\n\"Oh no, dear Proserpina,\" said the sea-children, \"we may not go with\nyou on the dry land. We must keep close beside the sea and let the\nwaves wash over us every minute or two. If it were not for the salt\nwater we should soon look like bunches of dried sea-weed instead of\nsea-children.\"\n\n\"That is a great pity,\" said Proserpina, \"but if you wait for me\nhere, I will run to the fields and be back again with my apron full\nof flowers before the waves have broken over you ten times. I long\nto make you some wreaths as beautiful as this necklace with all its\ncolored shells.\"\n\n\"We will wait, then,\" said the sea-children: \"we will lie under\nthe water and pop up our heads every few minutes to see if you are\ncoming.\"\n\nProserpina ran quickly to a field where only the day before she had\nseen a great many flowers; but the first she came to seemed rather\nfaded, and forgetting what Mother Ceres had told her, she strayed\na little farther into the fields. Never before had she found such\nbeautiful flowers! Large sweet-scented violets, purple and white; deep\npink roses; hyacinths with the biggest of blue bells; as well as many\nothers she did not know. They seemed to grow up under her feet, and\nsoon her apron was so full that the flowers were falling out of the\ncorners.\n\nProserpina was just going to turn back to the sands to make the\nwreaths for the sea-children, when she cried out with delight. Before\nher was a bush covered with the most wonderful flowers in the world.\n\"What beauties!\" said Proserpina, and then she thought, \"How strange!\nI looked at that spot only a moment ago; why did I not see the\nflowers?\"\n\nThey were such lovely ones too. More than a hundred different kinds\ngrew on the one bush: the brightest, gayest flowers Proserpina had\never seen. But there was a shiny look about them and about the leaves\nwhich she did not quite like. Somehow it made her wonder if this was\na poison plant, and to tell the truth she was half inclined to turn\nround and run away.\n\n\"How silly I am!\" she thought, taking courage: \"it is really the most\nbeautiful bush I ever saw. I will pull it up by the roots and carry it\nhome to plant in mother's garden.\"\n\nHolding her apron full of flowers with one hand, Proserpina seized the\nlarge shrub with the other and pulled and pulled.\n\nWhat deep roots that bush had! She pulled again with all her might,\nand the earth round the roots began to stir and crack, so she gave\nanother big pull, and then she let go. She thought there was a\nrumbling noise right below her feet, and she wondered if the roots\nwent down to some dragon's cave. Then she tried once again, and up\ncame the bush so quickly that Proserpina nearly fell backwards. There\nshe stood, holding the stem in her hand and looking at the big hole\nwhich its roots had left in the earth.\n\nTo her surprise this hole began to grow wider and wider, and deeper\nand deeper, and a rumbling noise came out of it. Louder and louder it\ngrew, nearer and nearer it came, just like the tramp of horses' feet\nand the rattling of wheels.\n\nProserpina was too frightened now to run away, and soon she saw a\nwonderful thing. Two black horses, with smoke coming out of their\nnostrils and with long black tails and flowing black manes, came\ntearing their way out of the earth, and a splendid golden chariot was\nrattling at their heels.\n\nThe horses leaped out of the hole, chariot and all, and came close to\nthe spot where Proserpina stood.\n\nThen she saw there was a man in the chariot. He was very richly\ndressed, with a crown on his head all made of diamonds which sparkled\nlike fire. He was a very handsome man, but looked rather cross and\ndiscontented, and he kept rubbing his eyes and covering them with his\nhand, as if he did not care much for the bright sunshine.\n\nAs soon as he saw Proserpina, the man waved to her to come a little\nnearer. \"Do not be afraid,\" he said. \"Come! would you not like to ride\na little way with me in my beautiful chariot?\"\n\nBut Proserpina was very frightened, and no wonder. The stranger did\nnot look a very kind or pleasant man. His voice was so gruff and deep,\nand sounded just like the rumbling Proserpina had heard underneath the\nearth.\n\nShe at once began to cry out, \"Mother, mother! O Mother Ceres, come\nquickly and save me!\"\n\n[Illustration: HE CAUGHT HER IN HIS ARMS AND SPRANG INTO THE CHARIOT.]\n\nBut her voice was very shaky and too faint for Mother Ceres to hear,\nfor by this time she was many thousands of miles away making the corn\ngrow in another country.\n\nNo sooner did Proserpina begin to cry out than the strange man leaped\nto the ground; he caught her in his arms and sprang into the chariot,\nthen he shook the reins and shouted to the two black horses to set\noff. They began to gallop so fast that it was just like flying, and in\nless than a minute Proserpina had lost sight of the sunny fields where\nshe and her mother had always lived.\n\nShe screamed and screamed and all the beautiful flowers fell out of\nher apron to the ground.\n\nBut Mother Ceres was too far away to know what was happening to her\nlittle daughter.\n\n\"Why are you so frightened, my little girl?\" said the strange man, and\nhe tried to soften his rough voice. \"I promise not to do you any harm.\nI see you have been gathering flowers? Wait till we come to my palace\nand I will give you a garden full of prettier flowers than these, all\nmade of diamonds and pearls and rubies. Can you guess who I am? They\ncall me Pluto, and I am the King of the mines where all the diamonds\nand rubies and all the gold and silver are found: they all belong to\nme. Do you see this lovely crown on my head? I will let you have it\nto play with. Oh, I think we are going to be very good friends when we\nget out of this troublesome sunshine.\"\n\n\"Let me go home,\" sobbed Proserpina, \"let me go home.\"\n\n\"My home is better than your mother's,\" said King Pluto. \"It is a\npalace made of gold, with crystal windows and with diamond lamps\ninstead of sunshine; and there is a splendid throne; if you like\nyou may sit on it and be my little Queen, and I will sit on the\nfootstool.\"\n\n\"I do not care for golden palaces and thrones,\" sobbed Proserpina. \"O\nmother, mother! Take me back to my mother.\"\n\nBut King Pluto only shouted to his horses to go faster.\n\n\"You are very foolish, Proserpina,\" he said, rather crossly. \"I am\ndoing all I can to make you happy, and I want very much to have a\nmerry little girl to run upstairs and downstairs in my palace and make\nit brighter with her laughter. This is all I ask you to do for King\nPluto.\"\n\n\"Never\" answered Proserpina, looking very miserable. \"I shall never\nlaugh again, till you take me back to my mother's cottage.\"\n\nAnd the horses galloped on, and the wind whistled past the chariot,\nand Proserpina cried and cried till her poor little voice was almost\ncried away, and nothing was left but a whisper.\n\nThe road now began to get very dull and gloomy. On each side were\nblack rocks and very thick trees and bushes that looked as if they\nnever got any sunshine. It got darker and darker, as if night was\ncoming, and still the black horses rushed on leaving the sunny home of\nMother Ceres far behind.\n\nBut the darker it grew, the happier King Pluto seemed to be.\nProserpina began to peep at him, she thought he might not be such a\nwicked man after all.\n\n\"Is it much further,\" she asked, \"and will you carry me back when I\nhave seen your palace?\"\n\n\"We will talk of that by and by,\" answered Pluto. \"Do you see these\nbig gates? When we pass these we are at home; and look! there is my\nfaithful dog at the door! Cerberus; Cerberus, come here, good dog.\"\n\nPluto pulled the horses' reins, and the chariot stopped between two\nbig tall pillars. The dog got up and stood on his hind legs, so that\nhe could put his paws on the chariot wheel. What a strange dog he was!\nA big, rough, ugly-looking monster, with three heads each fiercer than\nthe other.\n\nKing Pluto patted his heads and the dog wagged his tail with delight.\nProserpina was much afraid when she saw that his tail was a live\ndragon, with fiery eyes and big poisonous teeth.\n\n\"Will the dog bite me?\" she asked, creeping closer to King Pluto. \"How\nvery ugly he is.\"\n\n\"Oh, never fear,\" Pluto answered; \"he never bites people unless they\ntry to come in here when I do not want them. Down, Cerberus. Now,\nProserpina, we will drive on.\"\n\nThe black horses started again and King Pluto seemed very happy to\nfind himself once more at home.\n\nAll along the road Proserpina could see diamonds, and rubies and\nprecious stones sparkling, and there were bits of real gold among the\nrocks. It was a very rich place.\n\nNot far from the gateway they came to an iron bridge. Pluto stopped\nthe chariot and told Proserpina to look at the river which ran\nunderneath. It was very black and muddy, and flowed slowly, very\nslowly, as if it had quite forgotten which way it wanted to go, and\nwas in no hurry to flow anywhere.\n\n\"This is the river Lethe,\" said King Pluto; \"do you not think it a\nvery pleasant stream?\"\n\n\"I think it is very dismal,\" said Proserpina.\n\n\"Well, I like it,\" answered Pluto, who got rather cross when any one\ndid not agree with him. \"It is a strange kind of river. If you drink\nonly a little sip of the water, you will at once forget all your care\nand sorrow. When we reach the palace, you shall have some in a golden\ncup, and then you will not cry any more for your mother, and will be\nperfectly happy with me.\"\n\n\"Oh no, oh no!\" said Proserpina, sobbing again. \"O mother, mother,\nI will never forget you; I do not want to be happy by forgetting all\nabout you.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" said King Pluto; \"you do not know what good times we\nwill have in my palace. Here we are, just at the gate. Look at the big\npillars; they are all made of solid gold.\"\n\nHe got out of the chariot and carried Proserpina in his arms up a long\nstair into the great hall of the palace. It was beautifully lit by\nhundreds of diamonds and rubies which shone like lamps. It was very\nrich and splendid to look at, but it was cold and lonely and Pluto\nmust have longed for some one to keep him company; perhaps that was\nwhy he had stolen Proserpina from her sunny home.\n\nKing Pluto sent for his servants and told them to get ready a grand\nsupper with all kinds of dainty food and sweet things such as children\nlike. \"And be sure not to forget a golden cup filled with the water of\nLethe,\" he said to the servant.\n\n\"I will not eat anything,\" said Proserpina, \"nor drink a single drop,\neven if you keep me for ever in your palace.\"\n\n\"I should be sorry for that,\" replied King Pluto. He really wished to\nbe kind if he had only known how. \"Wait till you see the nice things\nmy cook will make for you, and then you will be hungry.\"\n\nNow King Pluto had a secret reason why he wanted Proserpina to eat\nsome food. You must understand that when people are carried off to the\nland of magic, if once they taste any food they can never go back to\ntheir friends.\n\nIf King Pluto had offered Proserpina some bread and milk she would\nvery likely have taken it as soon as she was hungry, but all the\ncook's fine pastries and sweets were things she had never seen at\nhome, and, instead of making her hungry, she was afraid to touch them.\n\nBut now my story must leave King Pluto's palace, and we must see what\nMother Ceres has been about.\n\nYou remember she had gone off in her chariot with the winged dragons\nto the other side of the world to see how the corn and fruit were\ngrowing. And while she was busy in a field she thought she heard\nProserpina's voice calling her. She was sure her little daughter\ncould not possibly be anywhere near, but the idea troubled her: and\npresently she left the fields before her work was half done and,\nordering her dragons with the chariot, she drove off.\n\nIn less than an hour Mother Ceres got down at the door of her cottage.\nIt was empty! At first she thought \"Oh, Proserpina will still be\nplaying on the shore with the sea-children.\" So she went to find her.\n\n\"Where is Proserpina, you naughty sea-children?\" she asked; \"tell me,\nhave you taken her to your home under the sea?\"\n\n\"Oh no, Mother Ceres,\" they said, \"she left us early in the day to\ngather flowers for a wreath, and we have seen nothing of her since.\"\n\nCeres hurried off to ask all the neighbors. A poor fisherman had seen\nher little footprints in the sand as he went home with his basket of\nfish.\n\nA man in the fields had noticed her gathering flowers.\n\nSeveral persons had heard the rattling of chariot wheels or the\nrumbling of distant thunder: and one old woman had heard a scream, but\nsupposed it was only merriment, and had not even looked up.\n\nNone of the neighbors knew where Proserpina was, and Mother Ceres\ndecided she must seek her daughter further from home.\n\nBy this time it was night, so she lit a torch and set off, telling the\nneighbors she would never come back till Proserpina was found. In\nher hurry she quite forgot her chariot with the dragons; may be she\nthought she could search better on foot.\n\nSo she started on her sad journey, holding her torch in front of her,\nand looking carefully along every road and round every corner.\n\nShe had not gone very far before she found one of the wonderful\nflowers which Proserpina had pulled from the poison bush.\n\n\"Ha!\" said Mother Ceres, examining it carefully, \"there is mischief in\nthis flower: it did not grow in the earth by any help of mine; it is\nthe work of magic, and perhaps it has poisoned my poor child.\" And she\nhid it in her bosom.\n\nAll night long Ceres sought for her daughter. She knocked at the doors\nof farm-houses where the people were all asleep, and they came to see\nwho was there, rubbing their eyes and yawning. They were very sorry\nfor the poor mother when they heard her tale--but they knew nothing\nabout Proserpina.\n\nAt every palace door, too, she knocked, so loudly that the servants\nran quickly, expecting to find a great queen, and when they saw only\na sad lonely woman with a burning torch in her hand, and a wreath of\nwithered poppies on her head, they were angry and drove her rudely\naway.\n\nBut nobody had seen Proserpina, and Mother Ceres wandered about till\nthe night was passed, without sitting down to rest, and without taking\nany food. She did not even remember to put out her torch, and it\nlooked very pale and small in the bright morning sunshine.\n\nIt must have been a magic torch, for it burned dimly all day, and then\nwhen night came it shone with a beautiful red light, and neither the\nwind nor the rain put it out through all these weary days while Ceres\nsought for Proserpina.\n\nIt was not only men and women that Mother Ceres questioned about her\ndaughter. In the woods and by the streams she met other creatures\nwhose way of talking she could understand, and who knew many things\nthat we have never learned.\n\nSometimes she tapped with her finger against an oak tree, and at once\nits rough bark would open and a beautiful maiden would appear: she was\nthe spirit of the oak, living inside it, and as happy as could be when\nits green leaves danced in the breeze.\n\nThen another time Ceres would find a spring bubbling out of a little\nhole in the earth, and she would play with her fingers in the water.\nImmediately up through the sandy bed a nymph with dripping hair would\nrise and float half out of the water, looking at Mother Ceres, and\nswaying up and down with the water bubbles.\n\nBut when the mother asked whether her poor lost child had stopped to\ndrink of the fountain, the nymph with weeping eyes would answer\n\"No,\" in a murmuring voice which was just like the sound of a running\nstream.\n\nOften, too, she met fauns. These were little people with brown faces\nwho looked as if they had played a great deal in the sun. They had\nhairy ears and little horns on their brows, and their legs were like\ngoats' legs on which they danced merrily about the woods and fields.\nThey were very kind creatures, and were very sorry for Mother Ceres\nwhen they heard that her daughter was lost.\n\nAnd once she met a rude band of satyrs who had faces like monkeys\nand who had horses' tails behind; they were dancing and shouting in\na rough, noisy manner, and they only laughed when Ceres told them how\nunhappy she was.\n\nOne day while she was crossing a lonely sheep-field she saw the god\nPan: he was sitting at the foot of a tall rock, making music on a\nshepherd's flute. He too had horns on his brow, and hairy ears, and\ngoat's feet. He knew Mother Ceres and answered her questions kindly,\nand he gave her some milk and honey to drink out of a wooden bowl. But\nhe knew nothing of Proserpina.\n\nAnd so Mother Ceres went wandering about for nine long days and\nnights. Now and then she found a withered flower, and these she picked\nup and put in her bosom, because she fancied they might have fallen\nfrom her daughter's hand. All day she went on through the hot\nsunshine, and at night the flame of her torch would gleam on the\npathway, and she would continue her weary search without ever sitting\ndown to rest.\n\nOn the tenth day she came to the mouth of a cave. It was dark inside,\nbut a torch was burning dimly and lit up half of the gloomy place.\nCeres peeped in and held up her own torch before her, and then she saw\nwhat looked like a woman, sitting on a heap of withered leaves, which\nthe wind had blown into the cave. She was a very strange-looking\nwoman: her head was shaped like a dog's, and round it she had a wreath\nof snakes.\n\nAs soon as she saw her, Mother Ceres knew that this was a queer kind\nof person who was always grumbling and unhappy. Her name was Hecate,\nand she would never say a word to other people unless they were\nunhappy too. \"I am sad enough,\" thought poor Ceres, \"to talk with\nHecate:\" so she stepped into the cave and sat down on the withered\nleaves beside the dog-headed woman.\n\n\"O Hecate,\" she said, \"if ever you lose a daughter you will know\nwhat sorrow is. Tell me, for pity's sake, have you seen my poor child\nProserpina pass by the mouth of your cave?\"\n\n\"No, Mother Ceres,\" answered Hecate. \"I have seen nothing of your\ndaughter. But my ears, you know, are made so that all cries of\ndistress or fright all over the world are heard by them. And nine days\nago, as I sat in my cave, I heard the voice of a young girl sobbing\nas if in great distress. As well as I could judge, some dragon was\ncarrying her away.\"\n\n\"You kill me by saying so,\" cried Mother Ceres, almost ready to faint;\n\"where was the sound, and which way did it seem to go?\"\n\n\"It passed along very quickly,\" said Hecate, \"and there was a rumbling\nof wheels to the eastward. I cannot tell you any more. I advise\nyou just to come and live here with me, and we will be the two most\nunhappy women in all the world.\"\n\n\"Not yet, dark Hecate,\" replied Ceres. \"Will you first come with your\ntorch and help me to seek for my child. When there is no more hope\nof finding her, then I will come back with you to your dark cave. But\ntill I know that Proserpina is dead, I will not allow myself time to\nsorrow.\"\n\nHecate did not much like the idea of going abroad into the sunshine,\nbut at last she agreed to go, and they set out together, each carrying\na torch, although it was broad daylight and the sun was shining. Any\npeople they met ran away without waiting to be spoken to, as soon as\nthey caught sight of Hecate's wreath of snakes.\n\nAs the sad pair wandered on, a thought struck Ceres. \"There is one\nperson,\" she exclaimed, \"who must have seen my child and can tell\nme what has become of her. Why did I not think of him sooner? It is\nPhoebus.\"\n\n\"What!\" said Hecate, \"the youth that always sits in the sunshine! Oh!\npray do not think of going near him: he is a gay young fellow that\nwill only smile in your face. And, besides, there is such a glare of\nsunshine about him that he will quite blind my poor eyes, which are\nweak with so much weeping.\"\n\n\"You have promised to be my companion,\" answered Ceres. \"Come, let us\nmake haste, or the sunshine will be gone and Phoebus along with it.\"\n\nSo they set off in search of Phoebus, both sighing a great deal,\nand after a long journey they came to the sunniest spot in the whole\nworld. There they saw a young man with curly golden hair which seemed\nto be made of sunbeams.\n\nHis clothes were like light summer clouds, and the smile on his face\nwas so bright that Hecate held her hands before her eyes and muttered\nthat she wished he would wear a veil! Phoebus had a lyre in his hands\nand was playing very sweet music, at the same time singing a merry\nsong.\n\nAs Ceres and her dismal companion came near, Phoebus smiled on them\nso cheerfully that Hecate's wreath of snakes gave a spiteful hiss and\nHecate wished she was back in her dark cave.\n\nBut Ceres was too unhappy to know whether Phoebus smiled or looked\nangry.\n\n\"Phoebus\" she said, \"I am in great trouble and have come to you\nfor help. Can you tell me what has become of my little daughter\nProserpina?\"\n\n\"Proserpina, Proserpina did you call her?\" answered Phoebus, trying to\nremember. He had so many pleasant ideas in his head that he sometimes\nforgot what had happened no longer ago than yesterday.\n\n\"Ah yes! I remember now--a very lovely little girl. I am happy to tell\nyou that I did see Proserpina not many days ago. You may be quite easy\nabout her. She is safe and in good hands.\"\n\n\"Oh, where is my dear child?\" cried Ceres, clasping her hands and\nflinging herself at his feet.\n\n\"Why,\" replied Phoebus, \"as the little girl was gathering flowers she\nwas snatched up by King Pluto and carried off to his kingdom. I have\nnever been there myself, but I am told the royal palace is splendidly\nbuilt. Proserpina will have gold and silver and diamonds to play with,\nand I am sure even although there is no sunshine, she will have a very\nhappy life.\"\n\n\"Hush! do not say such a thing,\" said Ceres. \"What has she got to\nlove? What are all these splendors if she has no one to care for? I\nmust have her back. Good Phoebus, will you come with me to demand my\ndaughter from this wicked Pluto?\"\n\n\"Pray excuse me,\" answered Phoebus, with a bow. \"I certainly wish you\nsuccess, and I am sorry I am too busy to go with you. Besides, King\nPluto does not care much for me. To tell you the truth, his dog with\nthe three heads would never let me pass the gateway. I always carry\na handful of sunbeams with me, and those, you know, are not allowed\nwithin King Pluto's kingdom.\"\n\nSo the poor mother said good-by and hastened away along with Hecate.\n\nCeres had now found out what had become of her daughter, but she was\nnot any happier than before. Indeed, her trouble seemed worse than\never. So long as Proserpina was above-ground there was some hope of\ngetting her home again. But now that the poor child was shut up behind\nKing Pluto's iron gates, with the three-headed Cerberus on guard\nbeside them, there seemed no hope of her escape.\n\nThe dismal Hecate, who always looked on the darkest side of things,\ntold Ceres she had better come back with her to the cave and spend the\nrest of her life in being miserable. But Ceres answered that Hecate\ncould go back if she wished, but that for her part she would wander\nabout all the world looking for the entrance to King Pluto's kingdom.\nSo Hecate hurried off alone to her beloved cave, frightening a great\nmany little children with her dog's face as she went.\n\nPoor Mother Ceres! It is sad to think of her all alone, holding up her\nnever-dying torch and wandering up and down the wide, wide world. So\nmuch did she suffer that in a very short time she began to look quite\nold. She wandered about with her hair hanging down her back, and she\nlooked so wild that people took her for some poor mad woman, and never\nthought that this was Mother Ceres who took care of every seed which\nwas sown in the ground and of all the fruit and flowers.\n\nNow she gave herself no trouble about seedtime or harvest; there was\nnothing in which she seemed to feel any interest, except the children\nshe saw at play or gathering flowers by the wayside. Then, indeed, she\nwould stand and look at them with tears in her eyes.\n\nAnd the children seemed to understand her sorrow and would gather in\na little group about her knees and look up lovingly into her face, and\nCeres, after giving them a kiss all round, would lead them home and\nadvise their mothers never to let them stray out of sight. \"For if\nthey do,\" said she, \"it may happen to you as it has happened to me:\nthe iron-hearted King Pluto may take a liking to your darlings and\ncarry them away in his golden chariot.\"\n\nAt last, in her despair, Ceres made up her mind that not a stalk\nof grain, nor a blade of grass, not a potato, nor a turnip, nor any\nvegetable that is good for man or beast, should be allowed to grow\ntill her daughter was sent back. She was so unhappy that she even\nforbade the flowers to bloom.\n\nNow you can see what a terrible misfortune had fallen on the earth.\nThe farmer plowed the ground and planted his seed, as usual, and\nthere lay the black earth without a single green blade to be seen. The\nfields looked as brown in the sunny months of spring as ever they did\nin winter. The rich man's garden and the flower-plot in front of the\nlaborer's cottage were both empty; even the children's gardens showed\nnothing but withered stalks. It was very sad to see the poor starving\nsheep and cattle that followed behind Ceres, bleating and lowing as if\nthey knew that she could help them.\n\nAll the people begged her at least to let the grass grow, but Mother\nCeres was too miserable to care for any one's trouble. \"Never,\" she\nsaid. \"If the earth is ever to be green again, it must grow along the\npath by which my daughter comes back to me.\"\n\nAt last, as there seemed to be no other way out of it, Mercury, the\nfavorite messenger of the gods, was sent to King Pluto in the hope\nthat he would set everything right again by giving up Proserpina.\n\nMercury went as quickly as he could to the great iron gates, and with\nthe help of the wings on his shoes, he took a flying leap right over\nCerberus with his three heads, and very soon he stood at the door of\nKing Pluto's palace.\n\nThe servants all knew him, as he had often been there in his short\ncloak, and cap, and shoes with the wings, and with his curious staff\nwhich had two snakes twisted round it.\n\nHe asked to see the King immediately, and Pluto, who had heard his\nvoice from the top of the stairs, called out to him to come up at\nonce, for he was always glad to listen to Mercury's cheery talk.\n\nAnd while they are laughing together we must find out what Proserpina\nhad been doing since we last heard about her.\n\nYou will remember that Proserpina had said she would not taste food so\nlong as she was kept a prisoner in King Pluto's palace.\n\nIt was now six months since she had been carried off from her home,\nand not a mouthful had she eaten, not even when the cook had made all\nkinds of sweet things and had ordered all the dainties which children\nusually like best.\n\nProserpina was naturally a bright, merry little girl, and all this\ntime she was not so unhappy as you may have thought.\n\nIn the big palace were a thousand rooms, and each was full of\nwonderful and beautiful things. It is true there was never any\nsunshine in these rooms, and Proserpina used to fancy that the shadowy\nlight which came from the jeweled lamps was alive: it seemed to float\nbefore her as she walked between the golden pillars, and to close\nsoftly behind her in the echo of her footsteps.\n\nAnd Proserpina knew that all the glitter of these precious stones was\nnot worth a single sunbeam, nor could the rubies and emeralds which\nshe played with ever be as dear to her as the daisies and buttercups\nshe had gathered among the soft green grass.\n\nKing Pluto felt how much happier his palace was since Proserpina came,\nand so did all his servants. They loved to hear her childish voice\nlaughing as she ran from room to room, and they felt less old and\ntired when they saw again how glad little children can be.\n\n\"My own little Proserpina,\" King Pluto used to say, \"I wish you would\nlike me a little better. Although I look rather a sad man, I am really\nfond of children, and if you would stay here with me always, it would\nmake me happier than having hundreds of palaces like this.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Proserpina, \"you should have tried to make me like you\nfirst before carrying me off, and now the best thing you can do is to\nlet me go again; then I might remember you sometimes and think that\nyou were as kind as you knew how to be. Perhaps I might come back to\npay you a visit one day.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" answered Pluto, with his gloomy smile, \"I will not trust\nyou for that. You are too fond of living in the sunshine and gathering\nflowers. What an idle, childish thing to do! Do you not think that\nthese diamonds which I have had dug out of the mine for you are far\nprettier than violets?\"\n\n\"No, oh no! not half so pretty,\" said Proserpina, snatching them from\nPluto's hand, and flinging them to the other end of the room. \"O my\nsweet purple violets, shall I ever see you again?\" and she began to\ncry bitterly.\n\nBut like most children, she soon stopped crying, and in a short time\nshe was running up and down the rooms as when she had played on the\nsands with the sea-children. And King Pluto, sad and lonely, watched\nher and wished that he too was a child, and when Proserpina turned and\nsaw the great King standing alone in his splendid hall, so grand and\nso lonely, with no one to love him, she felt sorry for him. She ran\nback and for the first time in all those six months she put her small\nhand in his. \"I love you a little,\" she whispered, looking up into his\nface.\n\n\"Do you really, dear child?\" cried Pluto, bending down his dark face\nto kiss her. But Proserpina was a little afraid, he was so dark and\nsevere-looking, and she shrank back.\n\n\"Well,\" said Pluto, \"it is just what I deserve after keeping you\na prisoner all these months, and starving you besides. Are you not\ndreadfully hungry, is there nothing I can get you to eat?\"\n\nIn asking this Pluto was very cunning, as you will remember that if\nProserpina once tasted any food in his kingdom, she would never again\nbe able to go home.\n\n\"No, indeed,\" said Proserpina. \"Your poor fat little cook is always\nmaking me all kinds of good things which I do not want. The one thing\nI should like to eat would be a slice of bread baked by my own mother,\nand a pear out of her garden.\"\n\nWhen Pluto heard this he began to see that he had made a mistake in\nhis way of trying to tempt Proserpina to eat. He wondered why he had\nnever thought of this before, and he at once sent a servant with a\nlarge basket to get some of the finest and juiciest pears in the whole\nworld.\n\nBut this was just at the time when, as we know, Mother Ceres in her\ndespair had forbidden any flowers or fruit to grow on the earth, and\nthe only thing King Pluto's servant could find, after seeking all\nover the world was a single dried-up pomegranate, so dried up as to\nbe hardly worth eating. Still, since there was no better to be had, he\nbrought it back to the palace, put it on a magnificent gold plate, and\ncarried it to Proserpina.\n\nNow it just happened that as the servant was bringing the pomegranate\nin at the back door of the palace, Mercury had gone up to the front\nsteps with his message to King Pluto about Proserpina.\n\nAs soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the golden plate, she\ntold the servant to take it away again. \"I shall not touch it, I can\nassure you,\" she said. \"If I were ever so hungry, I should not think\nof eating such a dried-up miserable pomegranate as that.\"\n\n\"It is the only one in the world,\" said the servant, and he set down\nthe plate and went away.\n\nWhen he had gone, Proserpina could not help coming close to the table\nand looking at the dried-up pomegranate with eagerness. To tell the\ntruth, when she saw something that really suited her taste, she felt\nall her six months' hunger come back at once.\n\nTo be sure it was a very poor-looking pomegranate, with no more juice\nin it than in an oyster-shell. But there was no choice of such things\nin King Pluto's palace, and this was the first fresh fruit Proserpina\nhad ever seen there, and the last she was ever likely to see, and\nunless she ate it up at once, it would only get drier and drier and be\nquite unfit to eat.\n\n\"At least I may smell it,\" she thought, so she took up the pomegranate\nand held it to her nose, and somehow, being quite near to her mouth,\nthe fruit found its way into that little red cave.\n\nBefore Proserpina knew what she was about, her teeth had actually\nbitten it of their own accord.\n\nJust as this fatal deed was done, the door of the hall opened and King\nPluto came in, followed by Mercury, who had been begging him to let\nhis little prisoner go.\n\nAt the first noise of their coming, Proserpina took the pomegranate\nfrom her mouth.\n\nMercury, who saw things very quickly, noticed that Proserpina looked\na little uncomfortable, and when he saw the gold plate empty, he was\nsure she had been eating something.\n\nAs for King Pluto, he never guessed the secret.\n\n\"My dear little Proserpina,\" said the King, sitting down and drawing\nher gently between his knees, \"here is Mercury, who tells me that a\ngreat many sad things have happened to innocent people because I have\nkept you a prisoner down here. And to confess the truth I have been\nthinking myself that I really had no right to take you away from your\nmother. It was very stupid of me, but I thought this palace was so\ndull, and that I should be much happier if I just had a merry little\ngirl to play in it, and I hoped you would take my crown for a toy and\nlet me be your playmate. It was very foolish of me, I know.\"\n\n\"No, it was not foolish,\" said Proserpina, \"you have been very kind to\nme, and I have often been quite happy here with you.\"\n\n\"Thank you, dear,\" said King Pluto, \"but I cannot help seeing that you\nthink my palace a dark prison and me the hard-hearted jailor, and I\nshould, indeed, be hard-hearted if I were to keep you longer than six\nmonths. So I give you your liberty. Go back, dear, with Mercury, to\nyour mother.\"\n\nNow, although you might not think so, Proserpina found it impossible\nto say good-by to King Pluto without being sorry, and she felt she\nought to tell him about tasting the pomegranate. She even cried a\nlittle when she thought how lonely and dull the great palace with its\njeweled lamps would be after she had left.\n\nShe would like to have thanked him many times, but Mercury hurried\nher away. \"Come along quickly,\" he said, \"as King Pluto may change his\nmind, and take care above all things that you say nothing about the\npomegranate which the servant brought you on the gold plate.\"\n\nIn a short time they had passed the great gateway with the golden\npillars, leaving Cerberus barking and growling with all his three\nheads at once, and beating his dragon tail on the ground. Along the\ndark, rocky road they went very quickly, and soon they reached the\nupper world again.\n\nYou can guess how excited and happy Proserpina was to see the bright\nsunshine. She noticed how green the grass grew on the path behind and\non each side of her. Wherever she set her foot at once there rose a\nflower: violets and roses bloomed along the wayside; the grass and the\ncorn began to grow with ten times their usual quickness to make up for\nthe dreary months when Mother Ceres had forbidden them to appear above\nground.\n\nThe hungry cattle began to eat, and went on eating all day after their\nlong fast. And, I can assure you, it was a busy time with all the\nfarmers when they found that summer was coming with a rush.\n\nAs to the birds, they hopped about from tree to tree among the fresh,\nsweet blossoms, and sang for joy that the dreary days were over and\nthe world was green and young again.\n\nMother Ceres had gone back to her empty cottage, and was sitting very\nsadly on the doorstep with her burning torch in her hand. She had been\nlooking wearily at the flame for some moments, when all at once it\nflickered and went out.\n\n\"What does this mean?\" she thought. \"It was a magic torch, and should\nhave gone on burning till Proserpina was found.\"\n\nShe looked up, and was surprised to see the bare brown fields suddenly\nturning green, just as you sometimes see them turn golden when the sun\ncomes from behind a dark cloud.\n\n\"Does the Earth dare to disobey me?\" exclaimed Mother Ceres angrily.\n\"Did I not forbid it to be green until my child should be sent back to\nme?\"\n\n\"Then open your arms, mother dear,\" cried a well-known voice, \"and\ntake me back again.\" And Proserpina came running along the pathway and\nflung herself on her mother's bosom.\n\nIt would be impossible to tell how happy they were; so happy that they\ncried a little, for people cry when they are very glad as well as when\nthey are unhappy.\n\nAfter a little while Mother Ceres looked anxiously at Proserpina.\n\"My child,\" she said, \"did you taste any food while you were in King\nPluto's palace?\"\n\n\"Dearest mother,\" answered Proserpina, \"I will tell you the whole\ntruth. Until this morning not a morsel of food had passed my lips.\nBut a servant brought me a pomegranate on a golden-plate, a very dry\npomegranate, with no juice inside, nothing but seeds and skin; and I\nwas so hungry, and had not tasted any food for such a long time, that\nI took just one bite. The moment I tasted it King Pluto and Mercury\ncame into the room. I had not swallowed a morsel, but O mother! I\nhope it was no harm, six pomegranate seeds remained in my mouth and I\nswallowed them.\"\n\n\"O miserable me!\" said Mother Ceres. \"For each of these six\npomegranate seeds you must spend a month every year in King Pluto's\npalace. You are only half restored to me; you will be six months with\nme and then six months with the King of Darkness!\"\n\n\"Do not be so vexed, mother dear,\" said Proserpina. \"It was very\nunkind of King Pluto to carry me off, but then, as he says, it was\nsuch a dismal life for him to lead in that great palace all alone: and\nhe says he has been much happier since he had me to run about the big\nrooms and to play beside him. If only he will let me spend six months\nevery year with you, I think I can bear to spend the other six months\nbeside him. After all, he was as kind as he knew how to be, but I am\nvery glad he cannot keep me the whole year round.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ATALANTA\n\nADAPTED BY ANNA KLINGENSMITH\n\n\nAtalanta was a maiden whose face you might truly say was boyish for a\ngirl, yet too girlish for a boy. Her fortune had been told, and it was\nto this effect: \"Atalanta, do not marry; marriage will be your ruin.\"\nTerrified by this oracle, she fled the society of men, and devoted\nherself to the sports of the chase. To all suitors (for she had many)\nshe imposed a condition which was generally effectual in relieving her\nof their persecutions, \"I will be the prize of him who shall conquer\nme in the race; but death must be the penalty of all who try and\nfail.\" In spite of this hard condition some would try. Hippomenes was\nto be judge of the race. \"Can it be possible that any will be so rash\nas to risk so much for a wife?\" said he. But when he saw her ravishing\nbeauty as she prepared for the race, he changed his mind, and said,\n\"Pardon me, youths, I knew not the prize you were competing for.\" As\nhe surveyed them he wished them all to be beaten, and swelled with\nenvy of anyone that seemed at all likely to win. While such were\nhis thoughts, the virgin darted forward. As she ran she looked more\nbeautiful than ever. The breezes seemed to give wings to her feet;\nher hair flew over her shoulders, and the gay fringe of her garment\nfluttered behind her. A ruddy hue tinged the whiteness of her skin,\nsuch as a crimson curtain casts on a marble wall. All her competitors\nwere distanced, and were put to death without mercy. Hippomenes, not\ndaunted by this result, fixing his eyes on the virgin, said, \"Why\nboast of beating those laggards? I offer myself for the contest.\"\nAtalanta looked at him with a pitying countenance, and hardly knew\nwhether she would rather conquer him or not. \"What god can tempt one\nso young and handsome to throw himself away? I pity him, not for his\nbeauty (yet he is beautiful), but for his youth. I wish he would give\nup the race, or if he will be so mad, I hope he may outrun me.\" While\nshe hesitates, revolving these thoughts, the spectators grow impatient\nfor the race, and her father prompts her to prepare. Then Hippomenes\naddressed a prayer to Venus: \"Help me, Venus, for you have led me on.\"\nVenus heard and was propitious.\n\nIn the garden of her temple, in her own island of Cyprus, is a tree\nwith yellow leaves and yellow branches and golden fruit. Hence she\ngathered three golden apples, and, unseen by any one else, gave them\nto Hippomenes, and told him how to use them. The signal is given; each\nstarts from the goal and skims over the sand. So light their tread,\nyou would almost have thought they might run over the river surface\nor over the waving grain without sinking. The cries of the spectators\ncheered Hippomenes,--\"Now, now, do your best! haste, haste! you gain\non her! relax not! one more effort!\" It was doubtful whether the youth\nor the maiden heard these cries with the greater pleasure. But his\nbreath began to fail him, his throat was dry, the goal yet far off. At\nthat moment he threw down one of the golden apples. The virgin was all\namazement. She stopped to pick it up. Hippomenes shot ahead. Shouts\nburst forth from all sides. She redoubled her efforts, and soon\novertook him. Again he threw an apple. She stopped again, but again\ncame up with him. The goal was near; one chance only remained. \"Now,\ngoddess,\" said he, \"prosper your gift!\" and threw the last apple off\nat one side. She looked at it, and hesitated; Venus impelled her to\nturn aside for it. She did so, and was vanquished. The youth carried\noff his prize.\n\n\n\n\nPYRAMUS AND THISBE\n\nADAPTED BY ALICE ZIMMERN\n\n\nIn Babylon, the great and wonderful city on the Euphrates, there lived\nin two adjoining houses a youth and a maiden named Pyramus and Thisbe.\nHardly a day passed without their meeting, and at last they came to\nknow and love one another. But when Pyramus sought Thisbe in marriage,\nthe parents would not hear of it, and even forbade the lovers to meet\nor speak to each other any more. But though they could no longer be\nopenly together, they saw each other at a distance and sent messages\nby signs and tokens.\n\nOne day to their great delight they discovered a tiny crack in the\nwall between the two houses, through which they could hear each other\nspeak. But a few words whispered through a chink in the wall could not\nsatisfy two ardent lovers, and they tried to arrange a meeting. They\nwould slip away one night unnoticed and meet somewhere outside the\ncity. A spot near the tomb of Ninus was chosen, where a mulberry tree\ngrew near a pleasant spring of water.\n\nAt nightfall Thisbe put on a thick veil, slipped out of the house\nunobserved and made her way in haste to the city gates. She was first\nat the trysting-place and sat down under the tree to wait for her\nlover. A strange noise made her look up, and she saw by the clear\nmoonlight a lioness with bloody jaws coming to drink at the spring.\nThisbe sprang up, and dropping her cloak in her haste ran to hide\nherself in a neighboring cave. The lioness, who had already eaten,\ndid not care to pursue her, but finding the cloak lying on the ground,\npulled it to bits and left the marks of blood on the torn mantle. Now\nPyramus in his turn came to the place and found no Thisbe, but only\nher torn and bloodstained cloak. \"Surely,\" he thought, \"some beast\nmust have devoured her, for here lies her cloak, all mangled and\nbloodstained. Alas, that I came too late! Her love for me led Thisbe\nto brave the perils of night and danger, and I was not here to protect\nand save her. She dies a victim to her love, but she shall not perish\nalone. One same night will see the end of both lovers. Come, ye lions,\nand devour me too, 'tis my one prayer. Yet 'tis a coward's part to\npray for death when his own hands can give it.\"\n\nWith these words he drew Thisbe's cloak towards him, and covered it\nwith kisses. \"My blood too shall stain you,\" he cried, and plunged his\nsword with true aim in his breast. The blood spouted forth as from a\nfountain and stained the white fruit of the mulberry overhead.\n\nWhile Pyramus lay dying under the tree, Thisbe had recovered from her\nfright, and now stole forth from her hiding-place, hoping that her\nlover might be at hand. What was her dismay when she saw Pyramus\nstretched lifeless on the ground. Kneeling down beside him, she washed\nhis wound with her tears, and kissed his cold lips, calling on him in\nvain to speak. \"Speak to me, Pyramus,\" she cried, \"'tis your beloved\nThisbe that calls.\"\n\nAt the sound of her voice Pyramus opened his failing eyes, and gave\nhis love one last look, then he closed them for ever. When Thisbe saw\nher own cloak and the empty sheath, she guessed that, thinking her\ndead, he had sought death himself.\n\n\"'Twas by your own hand you fell,\" she cried, \"a victim to love, and\nlove will give my hand strength to do the like. Since those who were\nparted in life are united in death, perhaps our sorrowing parents will\ngrant us the boon of a common tomb. May we rest side by side, even as\nwe have fallen, and may this tree, which has witnessed our despair and\nour death, bear the traces for evermore. Let its fruit be clothed in\nmourning garb for the death of two hapless lovers.\"\n\nWith these words she threw herself on the sword of Pyramus. Her last\nprayer was granted, for one urn held the ashes of the faithful pair.\nAnd since that night the mulberry tree bears purple fruit to recall to\nall generations of lovers the cruel fate of Pyramus and Thisbe.\n\n\n\n\nORPHEUS\n\nADAPTED BY ALICE ZIMMERN\n\n\nOrpheus, the Thracian singer, was the most famous of all the musicians\nof Greece. Apollo himself had given him his golden harp, and on it he\nplayed music of such wondrous power and beauty that rocks, trees\nand beasts would follow to hear him. Jason had persuaded Orpheus\nto accompany the Argonauts when they went to fetch back the golden\nfleece, for he knew that the perils of the way would be lightened by\nsong. To the sound of his lyre the Argo had floated down to the sea,\nand he played so sweetly when they passed the rocks of the Sirens that\nthe dreadful monsters sang their most alluring strains in vain.\n\nOrpheus wedded the fair nymph Eurydice, whom he loved dearly, and who\nreturned his love. But at their marriage the omens were not favorable.\nHymen, the marriage god, came to it with a gloomy countenance and the\nwedding torches smoked and would not give forth a cheerful flame.\n\nIndeed the happiness of Orpheus and Eurydice was to be but\nshort-lived. For as the new-made bride wandered through the woods with\nthe other nymphs a poisonous serpent stung her heel, and no remedy\navailed to save her. Orpheus was thrown into most passionate grief at\nhis wife's death. He could not believe that he had lost her for ever,\nbut prayed day and night without ceasing to the gods above to restore\nher to him. When they would not listen, he resolved to make one last\neffort to win her back. He would go down to the Lower World and seek\nher among the dead, and try whether any prayer or persuasion could\nmove Pluto to restore his beloved.\n\nNear Taenarum, in Laconia, was a cave among dark and gloomy rocks,\nthrough which led one of the entrances to the Lower World. This\nwas the road by which Hercules descended when he went to carry off\nCerberus, the three-headed dog that guards the threshold of Pluto.\nUndaunted by the terrors of the place, Orpheus passed through this\ngate and down a dark and dismal road to the kingdom of the dead. Here\nhe came in safety through the crowd of ghosts and phantoms, and stood\nat last before the throne of Pluto and Proserpina. Then he touched the\nchords of his lyre and chanted these words:\n\n\"Great lords of the world below the earth, to which all we mortals\nmust one day come, grant me to tell a simple tale and declare unto\nyou the truth. Not to look upon the blackness of Tartarus have I come\nhither, nor yet to bind in chains the snaky heads on Cerberus. It is\nmy wife I seek. A viper's sting has robbed her of the years that were\nher due. I should have borne my loss, indeed I tried to bear it, but I\nwas overcome by Love, a god well known in the world above, and I think\nnot without honor in your kingdom, unless the story of Proserpina's\ntheft be a lying tale. I beseech you, by the realms of the dead, by\nmighty Chaos and the silence of your vast kingdom, revoke the untimely\ndoom of Eurydice. All our lives are forfeit to you. 'Tis but a short\ndelay, and late or soon we all hasten towards one goal. Hither all our\nfootsteps tend. This is our last home, yours is the sole enduring rule\nover mankind. She too, when she shall have lived her allotted term of\nyears, will surely come under your sway. Till then, I implore you,\nlet her be mine. But if the Fates refuse a husband's prayers, I am\nresolved never to return hence. My death shall give you a double\nboon.\"\n\n[Illustration: ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE.]\n\nThus he prayed and touched his harp in tune with his words. All around\nhim the lifeless ghosts came flocking, and as they heard they wept.\nTantalus forgot his hunger and thirst. Ixion's wheel stood still, the\nDanaids set aside their leaky urns and Sisyphus sat on his stone to\nlisten. Never yet had such sweet strains been heard in the world of\ngloom. Then, for the first time, tears moistened the cheeks of the\nFuries, and even the king and queen of the dead were moved to pity.\nThey summoned Eurydice, and she came, yet halting from her recent\nwound.\n\n\"Take her,\" says Pluto, \"and lead her back to the light. But she must\nfollow you at a distance, nor must you once turn round to look upon\nher till you have passed beyond these realms. Else the boon we grant\nyou will be but vain.\"\n\nA steep path led upward from the realm of darkness, and the way was\nhard to find through the gloom. In silence Orpheus led on, till the\ngoal was close at hand and the welcoming light of the upper air began\nto penetrate the darkness. Then a sudden fear struck his heart. Had\nEurydice really followed his steps, or had she turned back, and was\nall his toil in vain? Tom with anxiety and longing, he turned to gaze\non his beloved. Dimly he saw her, but for the last time, for a power\nshe could not resist drew her back. Orpheus stretched out his arms and\ntried to seize her, but he only clasped the empty air. \"Farewell, a\nlast farewell,\" she murmured, and vanished from his sight.\n\nIn vain Orpheus tried to follow her, in vain he besought Charon to\ncarry him a second time across the waters of Acheron. Seven days he\nsat on the further bank without food or drink, nourished by his tears\nand grief. Then at last he knew that the gods below were pitiless; and\nfull of sorrow he returned to the upper earth.\n\nFor three years he wandered among the mountains of Thrace, finding his\nonly consolation in the music of his lyre, for he shunned all men and\nwomen and would have no bride after Eurydice.\n\nOne day he sat down to rest on a grassy hill in the sunshine, and\nplayed and sang to beguile his sorrow. As he played, the coolness of\nshady branches seemed all about him, and looking up he found himself\nin the midst of a wood. Oak, poplar, lime, beech, laurel, ash, pine,\nplane and maple and many another tree had gathered together here,\ndrawn from their distant forest homes by the sounds of Orpheus's lyre.\nYes, and the beasts and the birds of the field came too, and Orpheus\nsat in their midst and sang and played the tunes of sorrow.\n\nSuddenly a great noise was heard of laughter and shouting and\nmerry-making. For this was one of the feasts of Bacchus, and the women\nwere celebrating his rites, wandering over the mountains with dance\nand revel. When they saw Orpheus they set up a shout of derision.\n\"See,\" they cried, \"the wretched singer who mocks at women and will\nhave no bride but the dead. Come, let us kill him, and show that no\nman shall despise us unpunished.\"\n\nWith these words they began to throw wands and stones at him, but even\nthe lifeless objects were softened by the music, and fell harmlessly\nto the ground. Then the women raised a wild shout and made such a\nclamor with trumpets and cymbals, that the soft tones of the harp were\ndrowned by the noise. Now at last the shots took effect, and in their\nfury the women fell upon him, dealing blow on blow. Orpheus fell\nlifeless to the ground.\n\nBut he was not to die unwept. The little birds of the forest mourned\nfor him, even the stony rocks wept, the trees shed their leaves with\ngrief, and the dryads and naiads tore their hair and put on the garb\nof sorrow. Only the pitiless revelers knew no remorse. They seized the\nsinger's head and threw it with his lyre into the river Hebrus. There\nit floated down stream and, strange to tell, the chords gave forth a\nlament, and the lifeless tongue uttered words. \"Eurydice, Eurydice,\"\nit cried, till head and lyre were carried down to the sea, and on\nto Lesbos, the isle of sweet song, where in after years Alcaeus and\nSappho tuned afresh the lyre of Orpheus.\n\nBut the shade of the dead singer went down to Hades, and found\nentrance at last. Thus Orpheus and Eurydice were re-united, and won in\ndeath the bliss that was denied them in life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF SCANDINAVIA\n\n\n\n\nBALDUR\n\nADAPTED FROM A, AND E. KEARY'S VERSION\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE DREAM\n\n\nUpon a summer's afternoon it happened that Baldur the Bright and Bold,\nbeloved of men and the gods, found himself alone in his palace of\nBroadblink. Thor was walking among the valleys, his brow heavy\nwith summer heat; Frey and Gerda sported on still waters in their\ncloud-leaf ship; Odin, for once, slept on the top of Air Throne; a\nnoon-day stillness pervaded the whole earth; and Baldur in Broadblink,\nmost sunlit of palaces, dreamed a dream.\n\nThe dream of Baldur was troubled. He knew not whence nor why; but when\nhe awoke he found that a new and weighty care was within him. It was\nso heavy that Baldur could scarcely carry it, and yet he pressed it\nclosely to his heart and said, \"Lie there, and do not fall on any one\nbut me.\" Then he rose up and walked out from the splendor of his\nhall, that he might seek his own mother, Frigga, and tell her what had\nhappened. He found her in her crystal saloon, calm and kind, and ready\nto sympathize; so he walked up to her, his hands pressed closely on\nhis heart, and lay down at her feet sighing.\n\n\"What is the matter, dear Baldur?\" asked Frigga, gently.\n\n\"I do not know, mother,\" answered he. \"I do not know what the matter\nis; but I have a shadow in my heart.\"\n\n\"Take it out, then, my son, and let me look at it,\" replied Frigga.\n\n\"But I fear, mother, that if I do it will cover the whole earth.\"\n\nThen Frigga laid her hand upon the heart of her son that she might\nfeel the shadow's shape. Her brow became clouded as she felt it; her\nparted lips grew pale, and she cried out, \"Oh! Baldur, my beloved son!\nthe shadow is the shadow of death!\"\n\nThen said Baldur, \"I will die bravely, my mother.\"\n\nBut Frigga answered, \"You shall not die at all; for I will not sleep\nto-night until everything on earth has sworn to me that it will\nneither kill nor harm you.\"\n\nSo Frigga stood up, and called to her everything on earth that had\npower to hurt or slay. First she called all metals to her; and heavy\niron-ore came lumbering up the hill into the crystal hall, brass and\ngold, copper, silver, lead, and steel, and stood before the Queen, who\nlifted her right hand high in the air, saying, \"Swear to me that you\nwill not injure Baldur\"; and they all swore, and went. Then she called\nto her all stones; and huge granite came with crumbling sandstone, and\nwhite lime, and the round, smooth stones of the seashore, and Frigga\nraised her arm, saying, \"Swear that you will not injure Baldur\";\nand they swore, and went. Then Frigga called to her the trees; and\nwide-spreading oak trees, with tall ash and sombre firs, came rushing\nup the hill, and Frigga raised her hand, and said, \"Swear that you\nwill not hurt Baldur\"; and they said, \"We swear,\" and went. After this\nFrigga called to her the diseases, who came blown by poisonous\nwinds on wings of pain to the sound of moaning. Frigga said to them,\n\"Swear\"; and they sighed, \"We swear,\" then flew away. Then Frigga\ncalled to her all beasts, birds, and venomous snakes, who came to her\nand swore, and disappeared. Then she stretched out her hand to Baldur,\nwhile a smile spread over her face, saying, \"Now, my son, you cannot\ndie.\"\n\nJust then Odin came in, and when he had heard from Frigga the whole\nstory, he looked even more mournful than she had done; neither did the\ncloud pass from his face when he was told of the oaths that had been\ntaken.\n\n\"Why do you look so grave, my lord?\" demanded Frigga at last. \"Baldur\ncannot die now.\"\n\nBut Odin asked very gravely, \"Is the shadow gone out of our son's\nheart, or is it still there?\"\n\n\"It cannot be there,\" said Frigga, turning away her head resolutely,\nand folding her hands before her.\n\nBut Odin looked at Baldur, and saw how it was. The hands pressed to\nthe heavy heart, the beautiful brow grown dim. Then immediately he\narose, saddled Sleipnir, his eight-footed steed, mounted him, and,\nturning to Frigga, said, \"I know of a dead prophetess, Frigga, who,\nwhen she was alive, could tell what was going to happen; her grave\nlies on the east side of Helheim, and I am going there to awake her,\nand ask whether any terrible grief is really coming upon us.\"\n\nSo saying Odin shook the bridle in his hand, and the eight-footed,\nwith a bound, leaped forth, rushed like a whirlwind down the mountain\nof Asgard, and then dashed into a narrow defile between rocks.\n\nSleipnir went on through the defile a long way, until he came to a\nplace where the earth opened her mouth. There Odin rode in and down a\nbroad, steep, slanting road which led him to the cavern Gnipa, and the\nmouth of the cavern Gnipa yawned upon Niflheim. Then thought Odin to\nhimself, \"My journey is already done.\" But just as Sleipnir was about\nto leap through the jaws of the pit, Garm, the voracious dog who was\nchained to the rock, sprang forward, and tried to fasten himself upon\nOdin. Three times Odin shook him off, and still Garm, as fierce as\never, went on with the fight. At last Sleipnir leaped, and Odin thrust\njust at the same moment; then horse and rider cleared the entrance,\nand turned eastward towards the dead prophetess's grave, dripping\nblood along the road as they went; while the beaten Garm stood baying\nin the cavern's mouth.\n\nWhen Odin came to the grave he got off his horse, and stood with his\nface northward, looking through barred enclosures into the city of\nHelheim itself. The servants of Hela were very busy there making\npreparations for some new guest--hanging gilded couches with curtains\nof anguish and splendid misery upon the walls. Then Odin's heart died\nwithin him, and he began to repeat mournful runes in a low tone.\n\nThe dead prophetess turned heavily in her grave at the sound of his\nvoice, and sat bolt upright. \"What man is this,\" she asked, \"who dares\ndisturb my sleep?\"\n\nThen Odin, for the first time in his life, said what was not true; the\nshadow of Baldur dead fell upon his lips, and he made answer, \"My name\nis Vegtam, the son of Valtam.\"\n\n\"And what do you want of me?\" asked the prophetess.\n\n\"I want to know,\" replied Odin, \"for whom Hela is making ready that\ngilded couch in Helheim?\"\n\n\"That is for Baldur the Beloved,\" answered the prophetess. \"Now go\naway and let me sleep again, for my eyes are heavy.\"\n\nBut Odin said, \"Only one word more. Is Baldur going to Helheim?\"\n\n\"Yes, I've told you that he is,\" was the answer.\n\n\"Will he never come back to Asgard again?\"\n\n\"If everything on earth should weep for him,\" said she, \"he will go\nback; if not, he will remain in Helheim.\"\n\nThen Odin covered his face with his hands and looked into darkness.\n\n\"Do go away,\" said the prophetess, \"I'm so sleepy; I cannot keep my\neyes open any longer.\"\n\nBut Odin raised his head and said again, \"Only tell me one thing.\nJust now, as I looked into darkness, it seemed to me that I saw one on\nearth who would not weep for Baldur. Who was it?\"\n\nAt this she grew very angry and said, \"How couldst _thou_ see in\ndarkness? I know of only one who, by giving away his eye, gained\nlight. No Vegtam art thou but Odin, chief of men.\"\n\nAt her angry words Odin became angry, too, and called out as loudly\nas he could, \"No prophetess nor wise woman, but rather the mother of\nthree giants.\"\n\n\"Go, go!\" answered the prophetess, falling back in her grave; \"no man\nshall waken me again until Loki have burst his chains and the Twilight\nof the Gods be come.\" After this Odin mounted the eight-footed once\nmore and rode thoughtfully home.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE PEACESTEAD\n\n\nWhen Odin came back to Asgard, Hermod took the bridle from his\nfather's hand and told him that the rest of the gods were gone to the\nPeacestead--a broad, green plain which lay just outside the city. This\nwas the playground of the gods, where they practised trials of skill\nand held tournaments and sham fights. These last were always conducted\nin the gentlest and most honorable manner; for the strongest law of\nthe Peacestead was, that no angry blow should be struck, or spiteful\nword spoken, upon the sacred field; and for this reason some have\nthought it might be well if children also had a Peacestead to play in.\n\nOdin was too tired from his journey to go to the Peacestead that\nafternoon; so he turned away and shut himself up in his palace of\nGladsheim. But when he was gone, Loki came into the city by another\nway, and hearing from Hermod where the gods were, set off to join\nthem.\n\nWhen he got to the Peacestead, Loki found that the gods were standing\nround in a circle shooting at something, and he peeped between the\nshoulders of two of them to find out what it was. To his surprise he\nsaw Baldur standing in the midst, erect and calm, whilst his friends\nand brothers were aiming their weapons at him. Some hewed at him with\ntheir swords,--others threw stones at him--some shot arrows pointed\nwith steel, and Thor continually swung his great hammer at his head.\n\"Well,\" said Loki to himself, \"if this is the sport of Asgard, what\nmust that of Joetunheim be? I wonder what Father Odin and Mother Frigga\nwould say if they were here?\" But as Loki still looked, he became even\nmore surprised, for the sport went on, and Baldur was not hurt. Arrows\naimed at his very heart glanced back again untinged with blood. The\nstones fell down from his broad, bright brow, and left no bruises\nthere. Swords clave, but did not wound him; Thor's hammer struck him,\nand he was not crushed. At this Loki grew perfectly furious with envy\nand hatred. \"And why is Baldur to be so honored,\" said he \"that even\nsteel and stone shall not hurt him?\" Then Loki changed himself into a\nlittle, dark, bent old woman, with a stick, and hobbled away from the\nPeacestead to Frigga's crystal saloon. At the door he knocked with the\nstick.\n\n\"Come in!\" said the kind voice of Frigga, and Loki lifted the latch.\n\nNow when Frigga saw, from the other end of the hall, a little, bent,\ncrippled old woman come hobbling up her crystal floor, she got up with\ntrue queenliness and met her halfway, holding out her hand and saying\nin the kindest manner, \"Pray sit down, my poor old friend; for it\nseems to me that you have come from a great distance.\"\n\n\"That I have, indeed,\" answered Loki in a tremulous, squeaking voice.\n\n\"And did you happen to see anything of the gods,\" asked Frigga, \"as\nyou came?\"\n\n\"Just now I passed by the Peacestead and saw them at play.\"\n\n\"What were they doing?\"\n\n\"Shooting at Baldur.\"\n\nThen Frigga bent over her work with a pleased smile on her face. \"And\nnothing hurt him?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" answered Loki, looking keenly at her.\n\n\"No, no thing,\" murmured Frigga, still looking down and speaking half\nmusingly to herself; \"for all things have sworn to me that they will\nnot.\"\n\n\"Sworn!\" exclaimed Loki, eagerly; \"what is that you say? Has\neverything sworn then?\"\n\n\"Everything,\" answered she, \"excepting the little shrub mistletoe,\nwhich grows, you know, on the west side of Valhalla, and to which I\nsaid nothing, because I thought it was too young to swear.\"\n\n\"Excellent!\" thought Loki, and then he got up.\n\n\"You're not going yet, are you?\" said Frigga, stretching out her hand\nand looking up at last into the eyes of the old woman.\n\n\"I'm quite rested now, thank you,\" answered Loki in his squeaky voice,\nand then he hobbled out at the door, which clapped after him, and\nsent a cold gust into the room. Frigga shuddered, and thought that a\nserpent was gliding down the back of her neck.\n\nWhen Loki had left the presence of Frigga, he changed himself back to\nhis proper shape and went straight to the west side of Valhalla,\nwhere the mistletoe grew. Then he opened his knife and cut off a large\nbunch, saying these words, \"Too young for Frigga's oaths, but not too\nweak for Loki's work.\" After which he set off for the Peacestead once\nmore, the mistletoe in his hand. When he got there he found that\nthe gods were still at their sport, standing round, taking aim, and\ntalking eagerly, and Baldur did not seem tired.\n\nBut there was one who stood alone, leaning against a tree, and who\ntook no part in what was going on. This was Hoedur, Baldur's blind\ntwin-brother; he stood with his head bent downwards, silent while the\nothers were speaking, doing nothing when they were most eager; and\nLoki thought that there was a discontented expression on his face,\njust as if he were saying to himself, \"Nobody takes any notice of me.\"\nSo Loki went up to him and put his hand upon his shoulder.\n\n\"And why are you standing here all alone, my brave friend?\" said he.\n\"Why don't _you_ throw something at Baldur? Hew at him with a sword,\nor show him some attention of that sort.\"\n\n\"I haven't a sword,\" answered Hoedur, with an impatient gesture; \"and\nyou know as well as I do, Loki, that Father Odin does not approve of\nmy wearing warlike weapons, or joining in sham fights, because I am\nblind.\"\n\n\"Oh! is that it?\" said Loki. Well, I only know _I_ shouldn't like to\nbe left out of everything. However, I've got a twig of mistletoe here\nwhich I'll lend you if you like; a harmless little twig enough, but\nI shall be happy to guide your arm if you would like to throw it, and\nBaldur might take it as a compliment from his twin-brother.\"\n\n\"Let me feel it,\" said Hoedur, stretching out his groping hands.\n\n\"This way, this way, my dear friend,\" said Loki, giving him the twig.\n\"Now, as hard as ever you can, to do _him honor_; throw!\"\n\nHoedur threw--Baldur fell, and the shadow of death covered the whole\nearth.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nBALDUR DEAD\n\n\nOne after another they turned and left the Peacestead, the friends and\nbrothers of the slain. One after another they turned and went towards\nthe city; crushed hearts, heavy footsteps, no word amongst them, a\nshadow upon all. The shadow was in Asgard, too--had walked through\nFrigga's hall and seated itself upon the threshold of Gladsheim. Odin\nhad just come out to look at it, and Frigga stood by in mute despair\nas the gods came up.\n\n\"Loki did it! Loki did it!\" they said at last in confused, hoarse\nwhispers, and they looked from one to another,--upon Odin, upon\nFrigga, upon the shadow which they saw before them, and which they\nfelt within. \"Loki did it! Loki, Loki!\" they went on saying; but it\nwas of no use to repeat the name of Loki over and over again when\nthere was another name they were too sad to utter but which filled all\ntheir hearts--Baldur. Frigga said it first, and then they all went to\nlook at him lying down so peacefully on the grass--dead, dead.\n\n\"Carry him to the funeral pyre!\" said Odin, at length; and four of the\ngods stooped down and lifted their dead brother.\n\nNoiselessly they carried the body tenderly to the seashore and laid\nit upon the deck of the majestic ship, Ringhorn, which had been _his_.\nThen they stood waiting to see who would come to the funeral. Odin\ncame, and on his shoulders sat his two ravens, whose croaking drew\nclouds down over the Asa's face, for Thought and Memory sang the same\nsad song that day. Frigga came,--Frey, Gerda, Freyja, Thor, Hoenir,\nBragi, and Idun. Heimdall came sweeping over the tops of the mountains\non Golden Mane, his swift, bright steed. AEgir the Old groaned from\nunder the deep, and sent his daughters up to mourn around the dead.\nFrost-giants and mountain-giants came crowding round the rimy shores\nof Joetunheim to look across the sea upon the funeral of an Asa. Nanna\ncame, Baldur's fair young wife; but when she saw the dead body of her\nhusband, her own heart broke with grief, and the gods laid her beside\nhim on the stately ship. After this Odin stepped forward and placed a\nring on the breast of his son, whispering something at the same\ntime in his ear; but when he and the rest of the gods tried to push\nRinghorn into the sea before setting fire to it, they found their\nhearts too heavy to do it. So they beckoned to the giantess Hyrrokin\nto come over from Joetunheim and help them. She, with a single push,\nset the ship floating, and then, whilst Thor stood up holding his\nhammer high in the air, Odin lighted the funeral pile of Baldur and of\nNanna.\n\nSo Ringhorn went floating towards the deep sea and the funeral fire\nburnt on. Its broad red flame burst forth heavenward, but when the\nsmoke would have gone upward too, the winds came sobbing and carried\nit away.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHELHEIM\n\n\nWhen at last the ship Ringhorn had floated out so far to sea that it\nlooked like a dull red lamp on the horizon, Frigga turned round and\nsaid, \"Will any one of you, my children, perform a noble action and\nwin my love forever?\"\n\n\"I will,\" cried Hermod, before any one else had time to open his lips.\n\n\"Go, then, Hermod,\" answered Frigga, \"saddle Sleipnir with all speed\nand ride down to Helheim; there seek out Hela, the stern mistress of\nthe dead, and entreat her to send our beloved back to us again.\"\n\nHermod was gone in the twinkling of an eye, not in at the mouth of the\nearth and through the steep cavern down which Odin went to the dead\nprophetess's grave; he chose another way, though not a better one;\nfor, go to Helheim as you will, the best is but a downward road, and\nso Hermod found it--downward, slanting, slippery, dark, and very cold.\nAt last he came to the Giallar Bru--that sounding river which flows\nbetween the living and the dead, and to the bridge over it which is\npaved with stones of glittering gold. Hermod was surprised to see\ngold in such a place; but as he rode over the bridge, and looked down\ncarefully at the stones, he saw that they were only tears which had\nbeen shed round the beds of the dying--only tears, and yet they made\nthe way seem brighter. But when Hermod reached the other end of the\nbridge, he found the courageous woman who, for ages and ages, had been\nsitting there to watch the dead go by, and she stopped him saying:\n\n\"What a noise you make! Who are you? Yesterday five troops of dead men\nwent over the Giallar Bridge and did not shake it so much as you have\ndone. Besides,\" she added, looking more closely at Hermod, \"you are\nnot a dead man at all. Your lips are neither cold nor blue. Why, then,\ndo you ride on the way to Helheim?\"\n\n\"I seek Baldur,\" answered Hermod. \"Tell me, have you seen him pass?\"\n\n\"Baldur,\" she said, \"has ridden over the bridge; but there below,\ntowards the north, lies the way to the Abodes of Death.\"\n\nSo Hermod went on the way until he came to the barred gates of Helheim\nitself. There he alighted, tightened his saddle-girths, remounted,\nclapped both spurs to his horse, and cleared the gate by one\ntremendous leap. Then Hermod found himself in a place where no living\nman had ever been before--the City of the Dead. Perhaps you think\nthere is a great silence there, but you are mistaken. Hermod thought\nhe had never in his life heard so much noise; for the echoes of all\nwords were speaking together--words, some newly uttered and some ages\nold; but the dead men did not hear who flitted up and down the dark\nstreets, for their ears had been stunned and become cold long since.\nHermod rode on through the city until he came to the palace of\nHela, which stood in the midst. Precipice was its threshold, the\nentrance-hall, Wide Storm, and yet Hermod was not too much afraid to\nseek the innermost rooms; so he went on to the banqueting hall, where\nHela sat at the head of her table serving her new guests. Baldur,\nalas! sat at her right hand, and on her left his pale young wife. When\nHela saw Hermod coming up the hall she smiled grimly, but beckoned to\nhim at the same time to sit down, and told him that he might sup that\nnight with her. It was a strange supper for a living man to sit down\nto. Hunger was the table; Starvation, Hela's knife; Delay, her man;\nSlowness, her maid; and Burning Thirst, her wine. After supper Hela\nled the way to the sleeping apartments. \"You see,\" she said, turning\nto Hermod, \"I am very anxious about the comfort of my guests. Here are\nbeds of unrest provided for all, hung with curtains of Weariness, and\nlook how all the walls are furnished with Despair.\"\n\nSo saying she strode away, leaving Hermod and Baldur together. The\nwhole night they sat on those unquiet couches and talked. Hermod could\nspeak of nothing but the past, and as he looked anxiously round the\nroom his eyes became dim with tears. But Baldur seemed to see a light\nfar off, and he spoke of what was to come.\n\nThe next morning Hermod went to Hela, and entreated her to let Baldur\nreturn to Asgard. He even offered to take his place in Helheim if she\npleased; but Hela only laughed at this and said: \"You talk a great\ndeal about Baldur, and boast how much every one loves him; I will\nprove now if what you have told me be true. Let everything on earth,\nliving or dead, weep for Baldur, and he shall go home again; but if\n_one_ thing only refuse to weep, then let Helheim hold its own; he\nshall _not_ go.\"\n\n\"Every one will weep willingly,\" said Hermod, as he mounted Sleipnir\nand rode towards the entrance of the city. Baldur went with him as far\nas the gate and began to send messages to all his friends in Asgard,\nbut Hermod would not listen to many of them.\n\n\"You will soon come back to us,\" he said, \"there is no use in sending\nmessages.\"\n\nSo Hermod darted homewards, and Baldur watched him through the bars of\nHelheim's gateway as he flew along.\n\n\"Not soon, not soon,\" said the dead Asa; but still he saw the light\nfar off, and thought of what was to come.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nWEEPING\n\n\n\"Well, Hermod, what did she say?\" asked the gods from the top of the\nhill as they saw him coming; \"make haste and tell us what she said.\"\nAnd Hermod came up.\n\n\"Oh! is that all?\" they cried, as soon as he had delivered his\nmessage. \"Nothing can be more easy,\" and then they all hurried off to\ntell Frigga. She was weeping already, and in five minutes there was\nnot a tearless eye in Asgard.\n\n\"But this is not enough,\" said Odin; \"the whole earth must know of our\ngrief that it may weep with us.\"\n\nThen the father of the gods called to him his messenger maidens--the\nbeautiful Valkyries--and sent them out into all worlds with these\nthree words on their lips, \"Baldur is dead!\" But the words were so\ndreadful that at first the messenger maidens could only whisper them\nin low tones as they went along, \"Baldur is dead!\" The dull, sad\nsounds flowed back on Asgard like a new river of grief, and it seemed\nto the gods as if they now wept for the first time--\"Baldur is dead!\"\n\n\"What is that the Valkyries are saying?\" asked the men and women in\nall the country round, and when they heard rightly, men left their\nlabor and lay down to weep--women dropped the buckets they were\ncarrying to the well, and, leaning their faces over them, filled them\nwith tears. The children crowded upon the doorsteps, or sat down at\nthe corners of the streets, crying as if their own mothers were dead.\n\nThe Valkyries passed on. \"Baldur is dead!\" they said to the empty\nfields; and straightway the grass and the wild field-flowers shed\ntears.\n\n\"Baldur is dead!\" said the messenger maidens to the rocks and stones;\nand the very stones began to weep. \"Baldur is dead!\" the Valkyries\ncried; and even the old mammoth's bones which had lain for centuries\nunder the hills, burst into tears, so that small rivers gushed forth\nfrom every mountain's side. \"Baldur is dead!\" said the messenger\nmaidens as they swept over silent sands; and all the shells wept\npearls. \"Baldur is dead!\" they cried to the sea, and to Joetunheim\nacross the sea; and when the giants understood it, even they wept,\nwhile the sea rained spray to heaven. After this the Valkyries stepped\nfrom one stone to another until they reached a rock that stood alone\nin the middle of the sea; then, all together, they bent forward over\nthe edge of it, stooped down and peeped over, that they might tell\nthe monsters of the deep. \"Baldur is dead!\" they said, and the sea\nmonsters and the fish wept. Then the messenger maidens looked at one\nanother and said, \"Surely our work is done.\" So they twined their\narms round one another's waists, and set forth on the downward road to\nHelheim, there to claim Baldur from among the dead.\n\nAfter he had sent forth his messenger maidens, Odin had seated himself\non the top of Air Throne that he might see how the earth received his\nmessage. At first he watched the Valkyries as they stepped forth north\nand south, and east and west; but soon the whole earth's steaming\ntears rose up like a great cloud and hid everything from him. Then\nhe looked down through the cloud and said, \"Are you all weeping?\" The\nValkyries heard the sound of his voice as they went all together down\nthe slippery road, and they turned round, stretching out their arms\ntowards Air Throne, their long hair falling back, while, with choked\nvoices and streaming eyes, they answered, \"The world weeps, Father\nOdin; the world and we.\"\n\nAfter this they went on their way until they came to the end of the\ncave Gnipa, where Garm was chained, and which yawned over Niflheim.\n\"The world weeps,\" they said one to another by way of encouragement,\nfor here the road was so dreadful; but just as they were about to\npass through the mouth of Gnipa they came upon a haggard witch named\nThaukt, who sat in the entrance with her back to them, and her face\ntoward the abyss. \"Baldur is dead! Weep, weep!\" said the messenger\nmaidens, as they tried to pass her; but Thaukt made answer:\n\n  \"What she doth hold,\n    Let Hela keep;\n  For naught care I,\n    Though the world weep,\n      O'er Baldur's bale.\n  Live he or die\n  With tearless eye,\n      Old Thaukt shall wail.\"\n\nAnd with these words leaped into Niflheim with a yell of triumph.\n\n\"Surely that cry was the cry of Loki,\" said one of the maidens; but\nanother pointed towards the city of Helheim, and there they saw the\nstern face of Hela looking over the wall.\n\n\"One has not wept,\" said the grim Queen, \"and Helheim holds its own.\"\nSo saying she motioned the maidens away with her long, cold hand.\n\nThen the Valkyries turned and fled up the steep way to the foot of\nOdin's throne, like a pale snowdrift that flies before the storm.\n\n\n\n\nTHOR'S ADVENTURES AMONG THE JOETUNS\n\nADAPTED BY JULIA GODDARD\n\n\nOnce upon a time Thor set out upon his travels, taking Loki with\nhim, for despite Loki's spirit of mischief he often aided Thor, who\ndoubtless, in the present expedition, felt that Loki might be of use\nto him.\n\nSo they set off together in Thor's chariot, drawn by its two strong\nhe-goats, and as night drew nigh, stopped at the hut of a peasant,\nwhere they asked food and shelter.\n\n\"Food I have none to give you,\" said the peasant. \"I am a poor man and\nnot able even to give supper to my children, but if you like to rest\nunder my roof you are welcome to do so.\"\n\n\"Never mind the food; I can manage that,\" said Thor, dismounting from\nthe chariot and entering the hut.\n\nIt was a poor place, and not at all fitted to receive one of the Asi,\nbut Thor was glad enough to meet with it, wretched as it was.\n\n\"You can kill the goats,\" said he; \"they will make us an excellent\nmeal.\"\n\nThe peasant could not help thinking that it was a pity to kill two\nsuch fine animals; but wisely thinking that this was no affair of his,\nand that the stranger had a right to do as he pleased with his own, he\nset himself to obey Thor's orders, and with the help of his daughter\nRaska soon spread a savory repast before the hungry god and his\nattendant.\n\n\"Sit down, all of you,\" said Thor; \"there is enough and to spare.\"\n\nSo they all sat down, and the peasant and his children shared a more\nplentiful meal than had fallen to their lot lately. Thor and Loki\nalso did ample justice to the food, and when supper was over the\nthunder-god bade the peasant gather the bones and place them in the\ngoatskins, and making them into a bundle he left them on the floor\nuntil the next morning.\n\nWhen the morning came and the early sun shone in through the crevices,\nThor raised his hammer, and instead of the bundle of bones the peasant\nand his son and daughter saw the two goats standing as fresh and\nlively as if nothing had happened to them, saving that one of them\nhalted a little in his walk.\n\nWhen they sought to learn why this should be, it was found that\nThialfe, the boy, in getting the marrow out of one of the bones, had\nbroken it, and it was this that caused the goat to go lame.\n\nThor was very angry, and was very near killing not only Thialfe but\nalso the peasant and his daughter Raska, but they begged so hard for\ntheir lives that he consented to spare them on condition that the boy\nand girl should follow him in his travels.\n\nTo this they agreed, and Thor, leaving the chariot and goats in the\npeasant's care, went on his journey, giving Thialfe, who was a very\nswift runner, his wallet to carry.\n\nOn and on they journeyed until they came to a great sea.\n\n\"How are we to get over this?\" asked Loki.\n\n\"Swim across it,\" replied Thor.\n\nAnd in they all plunged, for Thialfe and Raska were used to a hardy\nlife, and so were able to swim with scarcely more weariness than Thor\nand Loki, and were not long in reaching the opposite shore.\n\n\"The country does not improve,\" said Loki, looking round upon the\ndesolate plain that lay outstretched between them and the borders of a\ndark forest, which they could just see in the far distance. One or\ntwo huge rocks thrust their jagged points high into the air, and great\nblocks of stone were scattered about, but there was no sign of herbage\nand not a tree to be seen nearer than the forest belt bounding the\nhorizon. Heavy gray clouds were drawing nearer and nearer to the\ndreary earth, and twilight was fast approaching. \"It looks not well,\"\nanswered Thor, \"but we must push on and perhaps may find it better\nas we go onward. Besides, night is drawing nigh, and as there are no\ndwellings to be seen we must try to gain the shelter of the forest\nbefore it is too dark to see where we are going.\"\n\nSo they pushed on, and though they looked to the right hand and to the\nleft, soon found that they were in a land where no men lived. There\nwas, therefore, nothing to be done but to quicken their speed, in\norder to reach the shelter of the forest. But though they strove\nto the utmost, the twilight deepened into darkness and the darkness\nbecame so deep by the time they reached the forest, that they only\nknew they had arrived there by Loki's striking his head against a low\nbranch, and soon after this Thor cried out:\n\n\"Good luck! I have found a house. Follow close after me and we will\nmake ourselves comfortable for the night.\"\n\nFor Thor in groping along had come to what he supposed to be a wall of\nsolid masonry.\n\n\"Where are you?\" asked Loki, \"for it is so dark that I cannot see\nyou.\"\n\n\"Here,\" answered Thor, stretching out his hand; \"take hold and follow\nme.\"\n\nSo Loki clutched Thor's arm, and Thialfe in turn seized the arm of\nLoki, whilst Raska clung to her brother and wished herself safe at\nhome in her father's hut.\n\nAnd thus they groped their way along the wall, seeking to find an\nentrance to the house.\n\nAt last Thor found a huge entrance opening into a wide, hall, and\npassing through this they turned to the left into a large room which\nwas quite empty, and here, after eating some food, they stretched\nthemselves upon the hard floor and wearied out with the day's march,\nsoon fell asleep.\n\nBut they did not sleep long. Their slumbers were broken by a rumbling\nsound as of a coming earthquake; the walls of the house shook, and\npeals of thunder echoed through the lofty chamber.\n\nThor sprang up. \"We are scarcely safe here,\" he said; \"let us seek\nsome other room.\" Loki jumped up speedily, as did also Thialfe and\nRaska, who were in a great fright, wondering what dreadful thing was\ngoing to happen to them. They willingly followed Thor, hoping to find\na safer place.\n\nTo the right they saw another room like a long gallery with a huge\ndoorway, and into this Loki, Thialfe, and Raska crept, choosing the\nfarthest corner of it; but Thor took his stand at the doorway to be on\nthe watch if any fresh danger should threaten them.\n\nAfter a somewhat uncomfortable rest, Loki, Thialfe, and Raska were not\nsorry to find that the day had dawned, though as there were no windows\nin the house, they only knew it by hearing the cock crow.\n\nThor was better off, for the doorway was so wide that the sunlight\ncame pouring in without hindrance. Indeed the huge size of the doorway\nmade Thor think that the builder must have given up all hope of ever\nfinding a door large enough to fit into it.\n\nHe strolled away from the house, and the first thing that he saw was\na huge giant fast asleep upon the greensward; and now he knew that the\nthunder that had so frightened them in the night had been nothing more\nor less than the loud snoring of the giant.\n\nSo wroth was Thor at the thought that such a thing should have made\nhim afraid, that he fastened on his belt of strength and drew his\nsword and made towards the giant as though he would kill him on the\nspot.\n\nBut the giant, opening his great round eyes, stared so steadily at\nThor that the god became mazed and could do nothing but stare in\nreturn.\n\nAt last, however, he found voice to ask, \"What is your name?\"\n\n\"My name,\" said the giant, raising himself on one elbow, thereby\ncausing his head to rise so high into the air that Thor thought it was\ntaking flight altogether, \"is Skrymner; you, I believe, are the god\nThor?\"\n\n\"I am,\" answered the god.\n\n\"Do you happen to have picked up my glove?\" asked the giant\ncarelessly.\n\nThen Thor knew that what he and his companions had taken for a large\nhouse was only the giant's glove, and from this we may judge how huge\na giant Skrymner must have been.\n\nThor made no answer, and Skrymner next asked whither Thor was\ntraveling; and when he found that he was journeying to Utgard, offered\nto bear him company, as he too was going to the same place.\n\nThor accepted the giant's offer, and after eating a hearty meal, all\nwere ready for another day's march.\n\nSkrymner showed himself a kindly giant, and insisted upon carrying\nThor's bag of meal, putting it into his own wallet, which he slung\nacross his broad shoulders.\n\nIt must have been a strange sight, indeed, to see the great giant\nstalking along with his smaller companions at his heels; and we may\nwell marvel how they managed to keep pace with him, or how Thor was\nable to raise his voice to such a pitch as to reach the giant's ears.\n\nNevertheless all went well, and they trudged cheerfully along, never\nflagging in their talk.\n\nOnce Skrymner took Raska on his shoulder, but the height made her so\ngiddy that she was glad to come down again and walk quietly by the\nside of Thialfe.\n\nWhen night overtook them they encamped under one of the great\noak-trees, for they were not yet out of the bounds of the forest.\nSkrymner, to judge by his loud snoring, fell asleep the moment he lay\ndown upon the ground, but Thor and his comrades were not so tired\nas to forget that they had tasted nothing since breakfast time.\nAccordingly they set to work to open the wallet that Skrymner had\ngiven into their hands before closing his eyes.\n\nBut it was no easy task, and with all their efforts they failed to\nopen it. Not a knot could they untie, and their fingers were chafed\nand aching.\n\nNeither were they more able to awaken Skyrmner, and Thor's anger waxed\nexceedingly fierce. \"You shall pay for this,\" said he, flinging his\nhammer at the giant.\n\nSkrymner half opened the eye nearest to Thor, and said in a very\nsleepy voice, \"Why will the leaves drop off the trees?\" And then he\nsnored as loudly as before.\n\nThor picked up his hammer, and approaching nearer drove it into the\nhinder part of the giant's head, who again, half waking up, muttered,\n\"How troublesome the dust is!\"\n\nThor was exceedingly astonished at this, but thought nevertheless\nthat he would once more make trial of his power; so coming up close\nto Skrymner he struck with such force as to drive the hammer up to the\nhandle in the giant's cheek.\n\nThen Skrymner opened both eyes, and lazily lifting his finger to his\nface said, \"I suppose there are birds about, for I fancied I felt a\nfeather fall.\"\n\nNow was Thor fairly disconcerted; and the next morning, when the giant\ntold him that they must now part, as his road led him another way, he\nwas by no means ill-pleased, and he let Skrymner go without so much as\nbidding him \"good speed.\" Skrymner, however, seemed not to notice\nthat Thor was glad to be quit of his company, and gave him some very\nfriendly advice before he left him.\n\n\"If you will take my advice,\" said the giant, \"you will give up this\nthought of visiting Utgard. The people there are all giants of greater\nstature even than I, and they make nothing of little men, such as\nyou are. Nay, more, you yourself are likely to fare but badly amongst\nthem, for I see that you are rather apt to think too much of yourself\nand to take too much upon you. Be wise while there is time, think of\nwhat I say, and don't go near the city.\"\n\n\"But I will go there,\" shouted Thor, almost choked with rage; \"I will\ngo in spite of all the Joetuns of Joetunheim. None shall hinder me, and\nthe giants shall see and wonder at the mighty power of the god Thor.\"\n\nAnd as he spoke the rising sun fell full upon the city of Utgard,\nwhose huge brazen gates glittered in the sunlight. Even though they\nwere so far away, Thor could see how high they were; and as he drew\nnearer, their vast size filled him with amazement; but when he reached\nthem his wonder was beyond all words, for he and his companions seemed\nno larger than grasshoppers, in comparison with their height.\n\nThe gates were not open, for it was yet early; so Thor and his\ncomrades crept through the bars, and entered the city. As they passed\nalong the streets the houses were so tall that it was only by crossing\nto the opposite side of the broad road that they were able to see the\nwindows in the topmost stories. And the streets were so wide that it\nwas quite a journey across them.\n\nOnce a mouse darted out of a hole, and Raska screamed, for she thought\nit was a grisly bear. The mouse also shrieked and made much more noise\nthan Raska, as well it might, for a cat so huge that Thialfe half\nthought it must be the monster of Midgard seized it, and giving it a\npat with one of its paws laid it dead on the pavement.\n\nAs for the horses, their hoofs were terrible to look at, and Thialfe\nand Raska must have climbed up ladders if they wished to see their\nheads.\n\nThe people were quite as large as Skrymner had described and Thor and\nhis companions were obliged to be very careful lest they should get\ntrodden upon, as it was very doubtful if the people even saw them.\n\nStill Thor walked along with the proud consciousness that he was the\ngod Thor; and feeling that though he was so small he was yet a person\nof some importance, made his way to the palace, and desired to see the\nKing.\n\nAfter some little time he and his fellow travelers were ushered into\nthe presence of Utgarda Loke, the King of the country. And Utgarda\nLoke, hearing the door open, raised his eyes, thinking to see some\ngreat courtier enter, but he knew nothing of the bows and greetings of\nThor, until happening to cast his eyes to the ground, he saw a little\nman with his companions saluting him with much ceremony.\n\nThe King had never seen such small men before, and there was something\nso absurd to him in the sight, that he burst out laughing.\n\nAnd then all the courtiers laughed also, pretending that they had not\nseen the little creatures before.\n\nIt was some time before they all left off laughing, but at length\nthere was a pause, and Thor essayed to make himself heard.\n\n\"Though we are but small in comparison with the Joetuns,\" said he\nangrily, \"we are by no means to be despised, but are gifted with\npowers that may surprise you.\"\n\n\"Really!\" answered Utgarda Loke, raising his eyebrows. And then he and\nhis courtiers laughed louder than before.\n\nAt last there was another pause in their merriment, and the King\nadded: \"However, we are willing to give the strangers a fair trial in\norder to prove the truth of what their spokesman, whom I take to be\nthe god Thor, says. How say you? What can this one do?\" And he pointed\nto Loki.\n\n\"Please your Majesty, I am very great at eating,\" returned Loki.\n\n\"Nay,\" answered Utgarda Loke, \"you must grow a little before you are\ngreat at anything.\"\n\nAt which speech the courtiers again shouted with laughter; but Utgarda\nLoke, turning to his servants, bade them make trial of Loki's powers.\nSo they brought a great trough full of food, and Loki was placed at\none end, and a courtier named Loge at the other. They both fell to\nwork to devour what was before them, and met at the middle of the\ntrough. But it was found that while Loki had eaten the flesh of his\nportion, Loge had eaten, not only the flesh, but the bones also.\nTherefore Loki, was, of course, vanquished.\n\nThen Utgarda Loke turned to Thialfe. \"And pray, in what may this youth\nbe specially skilled?\" he asked.\n\n\"I am a swift skater,\" answered Thialfe.\n\n\"Try him,\" said the King.\n\nAnd Thialfe was led to a plain of ice, as smooth as glass, and one\nnamed Hugr was set to run against him. But though Thialfe was the\nswiftest skater ever known in the world, yet Hugr glided past him so\nfleetly that he had returned to the starting-post before Thialfe had\ndone more than a quarter of the distance.\n\nThree times did Thialfe match his speed against Hugr, and, three times\nbeaten, withdrew from the contest as disconsolate as Loki.\n\n\"And now may I ask what you can do yourself?\" said the King to Thor.\n\n\"I can drain a wine-cup with any one,\" replied the god.\n\n\"Try him,\" said Utgarda Loke.\n\nAnd forthwith the royal cupbearer presented a drinking-horn to Thor.\n\n\"If you are as great as you pretend to be,\" said the King, \"you will\ndrain it at one draught. Some people take two pulls at it, but the\nweakest among us can manage it in three.\"\n\nThor took up the horn, and, being very thirsty, took a steady pull at\nit. He thought he had done very well, but on removing it from his lips\nhe marveled to see how little had gone.\n\nA second time he took a draught, but the horn was far from being\nemptied.\n\nAgain a third time he essayed to drain it, but it was full almost to\nthe brim.\n\nTherefore he set it down in despair, and confessed himself unable to\ndrain it.\n\n\"I am disappointed in you,\" said Utgarda Loke; \"you are not half the\nman I took you for. I see it is no use asking you to do warrior's\nfeats; I must try you in a simpler way, in a child's play that we have\namongst us. You shall try to lift my cat from the ground.\"\n\nThor turned quite scarlet, and then became white with rage.\n\n\"Are you afraid?\" asked Utgarde Loke; \"you look so pale.\"\n\nAnd a large gray cat came leaping along, and planted itself firmly\nbefore Thor, showing its sharp claws, and glaring upon him with its\nfiery eyes.\n\nThor seized it, but in spite of all his efforts he was only able to\nraise one of the cat's paws from the ground.\n\n\"Pooh! pooh!\" exclaimed Utgarda Loke, \"you are a mere baby, fit only\nfor the nursery. I believe that my old nurse Hela would be more than a\nmatch for you. Here, Hela, come and wrestle with the mighty god Thor.\"\n\nAnd Utgarda Loke laughed disdainfully.\n\nForth stepped a decrepit old woman, with lank cheeks and toothless\njaws. Her eyes were sunken, her brow furrowed, and her scanty locks\nwere white as snow.\n\nShe advanced towards Thor, and tried to throw him to the ground;\nbut though he put forth his whole strength to withstand her, he was\nsurprised to find how powerful she was, and that it needed all his\nefforts to keep his feet. For a long time he was successful, but at\nlength she brought him down upon one knee, and Thor was obliged to\nacknowledge himself conquered.\n\nAshamed and mortified, he and his companions withdrew to a lodging\nfor the night, and in the morning were making ready to leave the city\nquietly, when Utgarda Loke sent for them.\n\nHe made them a splendid feast, and afterwards went with them beyond\nthe city gates.\n\n\"Now tell me honestly,\" said he to Thor, \"what do you think of your\nsuccess?\"\n\n\"I am beyond measure astounded and ashamed,\" replied the god.\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" laughed Utgarda Loke. \"I knew that you were. However, as\nwe are well out of the city I don't mind telling you a secret or two.\nDoubtless you will receive a little comfort from my doing so, as you\nconfess that your coming hither has been to no purpose.\n\n\"In the first place, you have been deceived by enchantments ever since\nyou came within the borders of Joetunheim. I am the giant you met with\non your way hither, and if I had known as much of your power then as\nI do now, you would never have found your way within the walls of\nUtgard.\n\n\"Certainly I had had some slight experience of it, for the three blows\nyou gave me would have killed me had they fallen upon me. But it was\nnot I, but a huge mountain that you struck at; and if you visit it\nagain, you will find three valleys cleft in the rocks by the strokes\nof your hammer.\n\n\"As for the wallet, I had fastened it with a magic chain, so that you\nneed not wonder that you could not open it.\n\n\"Loge, with whom Loki strove, was no courtier, but a subtle devouring\nflame that consumed all before it.\"\n\nHere Loki uttered an exclamation of delight, but Thor bade him be\nsilent, and Utgarda Loke went on:\n\n\"Thialfe's enemy was Hugr, or Thought, and let man work away as hard\nas he pleases, Thought will still outrun him.\n\n\"As for yourself, the end of the drinking-horn, though you did not see\nit, reached the sea, and as fast as you emptied it, it filled again,\nso that you never could have drained it dry. But the next time that\nyou stand upon the seashore, you will find how much less the ocean is\nby your draughts.\n\n\"The gray cat was no cat, but the great Serpent of Midgard, that\ntwines round the world, and you lifted him so high that we were all\nquite frightened.\n\n\"But your last feat was the most wonderful of all, for Hela was none\nother than Death. And never did I see any one before over whom Death\nhad so little power.\n\n\"And now, my friend, go your way, and don't come near my city again,\nfor I tell you plainly I do not want you there, and I shall use all\nkinds of enchantment to keep you out of it.\"\n\nAs he ended his speech, Thor raised his hammer, but Utgarda Loke had\nvanished.\n\n\"I will return to the city, and be avenged,\" said Thor.\n\nBut lo! the giant city was nowhere to be seen. A fair pasture-land\nspread itself out around him, and through its midst a broad river\nflowed peacefully along.\n\nSo Thor and his companions, musing upon their wonderful adventures,\nturned their steps homewards.\n\n\n\n\nTHE APPLES OF IDUN\n\nADAPTED BY HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE\n\n\nOnce upon a time Odin, Loki, and Hoenir started on a journey. They had\noften traveled together before on all sorts of errands, for they had\na great many things to look after, and more than once they had fallen\ninto trouble through the prying, meddlesome, malicious spirit of Loki,\nwho was never so happy as when he was doing wrong. When the gods went\non a journey they traveled fast and hard, for they were strong, active\nspirits who loved nothing so much as hard work, hard blows, storm,\nperil, and struggle. There were no roads through the country over\nwhich they made their way, only high mountains to be climbed by rocky\npaths, deep valleys into which the sun hardly looked during half the\nyear, and swift-rushing streams, cold as ice, and treacherous to the\nsurest foot and the strongest arm. Not a bird flew through the air,\nnot an animal sprang through the trees. It was as still as a desert.\nThe gods walked on and on, getting more tired and hungry at every\nstep. The sun was sinking low over the steep, pine-crested mountains,\nand the travelers had neither breakfasted nor dined. Even Odin was\nbeginning to feel the pangs of hunger, like the most ordinary mortal,\nwhen suddenly, entering a little valley, the famished gods came upon a\nherd of cattle. It was the work of a minute to kill a great ox and to\nhave the carcass swinging in a huge pot over a roaring fire.\n\nBut never were gods so unlucky before! In spite of their hunger, the\npot would not boil. They piled on the wood until the great flames\ncrackled and licked the pot with their fiery tongues, but every time\nthe cover was lifted there was the meat just as raw as when it was\nput in. It is easy to imagine that the travelers were not in very good\nhumor. As they were talking about it, and wondering how it could be,\na voice called out from the branches of the oak overhead, \"If you will\ngive me my fill, I'll make the pot boil.\"\n\nThe gods looked first at each other and then into the tree, and there\nthey discovered a great eagle. They were glad enough to get their\nsupper on almost any terms, so they told the eagle he might have what\nhe wanted if he would only get the meat cooked. The bird was as good\nas his word, and in less time than it takes to tell it supper was\nready. Then the eagle flew down and picked out both shoulders and both\nlegs. This was a pretty large share, it must be confessed, and Loki,\nwho was always angry when anybody got more than he, no sooner saw what\nthe eagle had taken, than he seized a great pole and began to beat the\nrapacious bird unmercifully. Whereupon a very singular thing happened,\nas singular things always used to happen when the gods were concerned:\nthe pole stuck fast in the huge talons of the eagle at one end, and\nLoki stuck fast at the other end. Struggle as he might, he could not\nget loose, and as the great bird sailed away over the tops of the\ntrees, Loki went pounding along on the ground, striking against rocks\nand branches until he was bruised half to death.\n\nThe eagle was not an ordinary bird by any means, as Loki soon found\nwhen he begged for mercy. The giant Thjasse happened to be flying\nabroad in his eagle plumage when the hungry travelers came under the\noak and tried to cook the ox. It was into his hands that Loki had\nfallen, and he was not to get away until he had promised to pay\nroundly for his freedom.\n\nIf there was one thing which the gods prized above their other\ntreasures in Asgard, it was the beautiful fruit of Idun, kept by the\ngoddess in a golden casket and given to the gods to keep them forever\nyoung and fair. Without these Apples all their power could not have\nkept them from getting old like the meanest of mortals. Without these\nApples of Idun, Asgard itself would have lost its charm; for what\nwould heaven be without youth and beauty forever shining through it?\n\nThjasse told Loki that he could not go unless he would promise to\nbring the Apples of Idun. Loki was wicked enough for anything;\nbut when it came to robbing the gods of their immortality, even he\nhesitated. And while he hesitated the eagle dashed hither and thither,\nflinging him against the sides of the mountains and dragging him\nthrough the great tough boughs of the oaks until his courage gave out\nentirely, and he promised to steal the Apples out of Asgard and give\nthem to the giant.\n\nLoki was bruised and sore enough when he got on his feet again to hate\nthe giant who handled him so roughly, with all his heart, but he was\nnot unwilling to keep his promise to steal the Apples, if only for\nthe sake of tormenting the other gods. But how was it to be done? Idun\nguarded the golden fruit of immortality with sleepless watchfulness.\nNo one ever touched it but herself, and a beautiful sight it was to\nsee her fair hands spread it forth for the morning feasts in Asgard.\nThe power which Loki possessed lay not so much in his own strength,\nalthough he had a smooth way of deceiving people, as in the goodness\nof others who had no thought of his doing wrong because they never did\nwrong themselves.\n\nNot long after all this happened, Loki came carelessly up to Idun as\nshe was gathering her Apples to put them away in the beautiful carven\nbox which held them.\n\n\"Good morning, goddess,\" said he. \"How fair and golden your Apples\nare!\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Idun; \"the bloom of youth keeps them always\nbeautiful.\"\n\n\"I never saw anything like them,\" continued Loki slowly, as if he were\ntalking about a matter of no importance, \"until the other day.\"\n\nIdun looked up at once with the greatest interest and curiosity in her\nface. She was very proud of her Apples, and she knew no earthly trees,\nhowever large and fair, bore the immortal fruit.\n\n\"Where have you seen any Apples like them?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh, just outside the gates,\" said Loki indifferently. \"If you care to\nsee them I'll take you there. It will keep you but a moment. The tree\nis only a little way off.\"\n\nIdun was anxious to go at once.\n\n\"Better take your Apples with you, to compare them with the others,\"\nsaid the wily god, as she prepared to go.\n\nIdun gathered up the golden Apples and went out of Asgard, carrying\nwith her all that made it heaven. No sooner was she beyond the gates\nthan a mighty rushing sound was heard, like the coming of a tempest,\nand before she could think or act, the giant Thjasse, in his eagle\nplumage, was bearing her swiftly away through the air to his desolate,\nicy home in Thrymheim, where, after vainly trying to persuade her to\nlet him eat the Apples and be forever young like the gods, he kept her\na lonely prisoner.\n\nLoki, after keeping his promise and delivering Idun into the hands of\nthe giant, strayed back into Asgard as if nothing had happened. The\nnext morning, when the gods assembled for their feast, there was no\nIdun. Day after day went past, and still the beautiful goddess did not\ncome. Little by little the light of youth and beauty faded from the\nhome of the gods, and they themselves became old and haggard. Their\nstrong, young faces were lined with care and furrowed by age, their\nraven locks passed from gray to white, and their flashing eyes became\ndim and hollow. Bragi, the god of poetry, could make no music while\nhis beautiful wife was gone he knew not whither.\n\nMorning after morning the faded light broke on paler and ever paler\nfaces, until even in heaven the eternal light of youth seemed to be\ngoing out forever.\n\nFinally the gods could bear the loss of power and joy no longer. They\nmade rigorous inquiry. They tracked Loki on that fair morning when he\nled Idun beyond the gates; they seized him and brought him into solemn\ncouncil, and when he read in their haggard faces the deadly hate which\nflamed in all their hearts against his treachery, his courage failed,\nand he promised to bring Idun back to Asgard if the goddess Freyja\nwould lend him her falcon guise. No sooner said than done; and with\neager gaze the gods watched him as he flew away, becoming at last only\na dark moving speck against the sky.\n\nAfter long and weary flight Loki came to Thrymheim, and was glad\nenough to find Thjassa gone to sea and Idun alone in his dreary house.\nHe changed her instantly into a nut, and taking her thus disguised in\nhis talons, flew away as fast as his falcon wings could carry him. And\nhe had need of all his speed, for Thjasse, coming suddenly home and\nfinding Idun and her precious fruit gone, guessed what had happened,\nand, putting on his eagle plumage, flew forth in a mighty rage, with\nvengeance in his heart. Like the rushing wings of a tempest, his\nmighty pinions beat the air and bore him swiftly onward. From mountain\npeak to mountain peak he measured his wide course, almost grazing at\ntimes the murmuring pine forests, and then sweeping high in mid-air\nwith nothing above but the arching sky, and nothing beneath but the\ntossing sea.\n\nAt last he sees the falcon far ahead, and now his flight becomes like\nthe flash of the lightning for swiftness, and like the rushing of\nclouds for uproar. The haggard faces of the gods line the walls\nof Asgard and watch the race with tremulous eagerness. Youth and\nimmortality are staked upon the winning of Loki. He is weary enough\nand frightened enough, too, as the eagle sweeps on close behind him;\nbut he makes desperate efforts to widen the distance between them.\nLittle by little the eagle gains on the falcon. The gods grow white\nwith fear; they rush off and prepare great fires upon the walls. With\nfainting, drooping wing the falcon passes over and drops exhausted\nby the wall. In an instant the fires have been lighted, and the great\nflames roar to heaven. The eagle sweeps across the fiery line a second\nlater and falls, maimed and burned to the ground; where a dozen fierce\nhands smite the life out of him, and the great giant Thjasse perishes\namong his foes.\n\nIdun resumes her natural form as Bragi rushes to meet her. The gods\ncrowd round her. She spreads the feast, the golden Apples gleaming\nwith unspeakable lustre in the eyes of the gods. They eat; and once\nmore their faces glow with the beauty of immortal youth, their eyes\nflash with the radiance of divine power, and, while Idun stands like\na star for beauty among the throng, the song of Bragi is heard once\nmore; for poetry and immortality are wedded again.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIFTS OF THE DWARFS\n\n\nThor was, you may know, the strongest and noblest of the great giants\nof the north. He was tall in stature and had fiery brown eyes, from\nwhich the light flashed like lightning, while his long red beard\nwaved through the sky as he drove in his goat-drawn chariot. Brilliant\nsparks flew from the hoofs and teeth of the two goats, while a crown\nof bright stars shone above Thor's head. When he was angered the\nwheels of his chariot rumbled and crashed their passage through the\nair, until men trembled and hid, telling each other that Thor had gone\nto battle with the Rime-giants or other of his enemies.\n\nNow Thor's wife was named Sib, and she was most beautiful to look\nupon. Her soft, browny-gold hair was so long and thick that it would\ncover her from the crown of her head to her little feet, and her deep\nbrown eyes looked into the faces of her friends as those of a mother\nlook into the face of her child. Loki, the mischief-maker among the\ngiants, often looked at Sib and longed to do her some evil, for he was\njealous, thinking that it was not right that she should be praised and\nloved by everyone; go where he would he could find no one who did not\nspeak well of her.\n\nIt happened one day when the summer was nearly gone that Loki found\nSib alone and sleeping on a bank near the river, so he drew his knife,\nand creeping softly nearer and nearer, cut off her beautiful flowing\nhair quite close to her head. Then he joyfully rushed away and strewed\nit far and wide over the whole earth, so that it became no longer\nliving and golden but faded and turned a dull color as the winds blew\nit about and the rains beat upon it, and crushed it in between the\nrocks and stones. When Sib awoke and was about to push the hair from\nher face, she felt that something was wrong. Wonderingly she ran to\nthe water and looking at her reflection in the clear depths, saw that\nnothing but a short stubble stood up all over her head. All her lovely\nhair was gone! Only one would have dared to treat her so badly, and in\nher grief and anger she called upon Thor to come to her aid.\n\nLoki had of course fled and was hiding far away in another country\namong the rocks when he heard the distant rumblings of thunder, and\ntried to shrink deeper into the crevices between the great stones, but\nthe awful sound grew louder, and at last the angry flash from Thor's\neyes darted to the very spot where the mischievous one lay. Then Thor\npulled him out and shook him from side to side in his enormous hands,\nand would have crushed his bones upon the hard rocks had not Loki\nin great terror asked what good his death would do, for it certainly\nwould not bring Sib's hair back. Then Thor set the mischief-maker on\nhis feet, though still keeping a tight hold on him, and asked what he\nwould do to repair the evil which he had done. Loki promptly answered\nthat he would go down into the mountains to the dwarfs, and get\nIwald's sons to make some golden hair for Sib, as good as that which\nhe had destroyed. Now Iwald had had seven sons, and these all\nlived deep below the earth in the great caverns which lie below the\nmountains, and these sons were small and dark; they did not like the\ndaylight for they were dwarfs who could see best without the sun to\ndazzle their eyes; they knew where gold and silver grew, and they\ncould tell where to find beautiful shining stones, which were red, and\nwhite, and yellow, and green; they knew the way all over the world by\nrunning through caverns and passages under the mountains, and wherever\nthey could find precious stones or metals they built a furnace, and\nmade an anvil, and hammer and bellows, and everything that was wanted\nin a smithy; for they knew how to fashion the most wonderful things\nfrom gold and iron and stone, and they had knowledge which made them\nmore powerful than the people who lived above the ground.\n\nThor let the mischief-maker go to get the help of the dwarfs to repair\nthe wrong which he had done, and Loki sought about the mountain-side\nuntil he found a hole which would lead him into Iwald's cave, and then\nhe promptly dropped into it. There in a dark cave gleaming with many\nsparkling lights he went to the two cleverest dwarfs who were named\nSindri and Brok, and told them what it was he wanted, adding that he\nwould be in sore trouble with Thor if they could not help him. Now\nSindri and Brok knew all about Loki perfectly well; they knew all\nabout his mischievous ways and the evil he so often wrought, but as\nthey liked Thor and Sib they were willing to give the help which was\nasked of them. Thus without more ado, for these dwarfs never wasted\ntheir words, Sindri and Brok began their work.\n\nHuge blocks of earth-brown stone were cast into the furnace until they\nwere in a white heat, when drop by drop red gold trickled from them\ninto the ashes. This was all gathered together, and the glistening\nheap taken to the dwarf women, who, crushing it in their hands before\nit had hardened, drew it out upon their wheels, and spun it into\nfine soft hair. While they were doing this Brok sought amongst his\ntreasures until he found the blue of the ocean and the tough inner\npith of an underground tree; these, with other things, were cast into\nthe furnace, and afterwards beaten with his hammer. As the rhythmic\nstrokes fell, the women sang a song which was like the voice of a\nstrong, steady wind. Then when this work was finished, the smith drew\nforth a little ship, which was carefully placed on one side. The third\ntime the dwarf went to a dark corner, and brought out an ugly bent bar\nof iron, and this, with two feathers from the wings of the wind,\nwas heated to melting whiteness, and wrought with great cunning and\nextreme care, for it was to be a spear for Odin himself, the greatest\nof all the heroes.\n\nThen Brok and Sindri called Loki to them and giving him these three\nthings bade him hasten back to the gods at Asgard and appease their\nwrath. Loki, however, was already beginning to feel sorry that he had\nbeen so successful; he liked teasing folk but he did not like having\nto atone for his mischief afterwards. He turned the marvelous gifts\nover scornfully in his hands, and said that he did not see anything\nvery wonderful in _them;_ then, looking at Sindri he added, \"However,\nBrok has hammered them very skilfully, and I will wager my head that\nyou could not make anything better.\"\n\nNow the brother dwarfs had not by any means expected gratitude,\nbut neither had they expected any such rudeness as this, so Sindri\ndetermined to give Loki a lesson. Going to one corner of the smithy\nhe picked up a pig-skin and taking the hammer in his hands, told\nhis brother to blow steadily, neither to falter nor to fail until\nhe passed the word that the work was done. Then with strength and\ngentleness he wrought with his tools, having cast nothing into the\nheat but the pig-skin; with mighty blows and delicate touches he\nbrought thickness and substance into it, until a board looked at him\nfrom the flames. Loki, fearing for his head, changed himself into an\nenormous forest fly, and settling upon Brok's hand, stung with vicious\nfury; but the dwarf would not trouble to brush the fly away, and\nsteadily moved the bellows until his brother called to him to stop,\nwhen they drew forth a strong flexible boar whose bristles were of the\nfinest gold.\n\nThen without saying anything or paying any attention to the spiteful\nwords which Loki kept uttering, Sindri chose from a heap of gold the\nmost solid lump he could find and flung it into the white flames.\nThrice it was heated and cooled, and the dark elf turned it and worked\nit with wonderful skill, and in the glow Loki saw a broad red ring,\nwhich seemed to live and move. Again he tried to spoil the work as a\nfly, and bit deeply into Brok's neck, but Brok would not so much as\nraise his hand to rid him of the pain. When the ring was finally laid\nto cool, so marvelously had it been wrought that from it each ninth\nnight would fall eight rings as beautiful as itself.\n\nNow came the last test of Sindri's cunning. He cast into the furnace\na piece of fine iron, and told Brok his hand must neither tremble\nnor stay, or the whole of their work would be useless. Then with wild\nsongs of strength upon his lips he hammered and tapped, until those\nwho were in the cave felt that they were out among the roaring waves;\nthey could hear the ice mountains grind and crash to pieces, and\nthe thunder of Thor's chariot wheels rushing through the heavens. A\nfrenzied horror seized upon Loki's mind. If these wretched dwarfs were\ngoing to make anything to add to Thor's strength he knew that it would\nbe his own ruin. So, changing himself to a hornet, he sprang upon the\nforehead of Brok, and dug so fiercely into his eyelids that the blood\ntrickled down and blinded him. Then the dwarf let go of the bellows\nfor one moment to clear his eyes, and Sindri cried out that what lay\nin the furnace came near to being spoiled, and with that he took\na red-hot hammer up with his tongs. It was neither pretty, nor\nparticularly large, while the handle was an inch too short because of\nLoki's spite.\n\nThen Brok and Loki set out for Asgard, Loki carrying the three\nwonderful things which had been given to him, while Brok carried the\nthree marvels which Sindri had so cunningly wrought and accompanied\nthe mischief-maker, that the gods might judge who had won the wager\nso rashly offered by Loki. When they reached Asgard the gods seated\nthemselves on their high seats agreeing among themselves that Odin,\nThor and Frey should be judges in this case.\n\nFirst, Loki offered to Odin the spear Gungner which was so wonderfully\nmade that it never failed to hit the thing at which it was thrown, and\nit always sped back to the hand which had thrown it. Later, when Odin\ncarried this spear in battle, if he shook it over his enemies they\nbecame so frightened that they all wanted to run away, but if he shook\nit over his friends they were so filled with courage that they could\nnot be conquered. Then Thor received the hair, and when it was placed\nupon Sib's head it grew to her like living tresses, curling and waving\nin the wind. To Frey the ship was given, and though it was so small\nthat it could be folded and carried in his pocket, when it was placed\nupon the waves it would grow large enough to hold an army of warriors\nwith all their war gear; besides, as soon as the sails were hoisted,\nthe wind would blow it whithersoever it was desired that the ship\nshould go.\n\nBrok then made his offerings, and to Odin he gave the ring Drapnir\nwhich had been made with such magic skill that every ninth night eight\nother rings dropped off it, though no one could see how they came;\nthis the greatest of the gods ever wore upon his arm, until the death\nof his beautiful son Baldur, when, as token of his great love he\nplaced it upon the dead youth's breast as he lay on his funeral pyre.\nTo Frey was given the golden boar, which would run faster than any\nhorse, over the sea or through the air, and wherever it went, there it\nwould be light, because the bristles shone so brightly. To Thor Brok\ngave the dull-looking hammer, saying, that whatever he struck with it\nwould be destroyed; that no blow could be hard enough to hurt it; that\nif he threw it, it would return to him so that he could never lose it;\nand that as he wished so would its size be--yet there was one fault\nabout it, and that was that the handle was an inch too short.\n\nIt was with great joy that Thor took this treasure, knowing that in it\nhe had something to help him in fighting the evil Rime-giants who were\nalways trying to get the whole world for themselves until driven back\nby him.\n\nThen the gods decided that of all the gifts the hammer was the best,\nand that, therefore, Loki had lost his wager and must lose his head.\nLoki offered to give all sorts of things to save himself, but the\ndwarf would not listen to any of them. \"Catch me, then!\" cried the\nmischievous one; but when Brok stretched his hand upon him Loki had\ngone, for he wore shoes which would carry him over the sea or through\nthe air.\n\n\"Catch him!\" cried the ugly little dwarf piteously to Thor, and in an\ninstant Loki stood before them, trembling in Thor's strong grasp.\nThen the clever one argued that it was his head only which had been\nwagered, and that not one little tiny bit of his neck might be taken,\nor the dwarf would have more than his bargain. At this Brok cried\nimpatiently that the head of a wicked person was of no use to him, all\nthat he wanted was to stop Loki's tongue so that he could work less\nevil, and he took a knife and thread and tried to pierce holes in\nLoki's lips, but Loki bewitched the knife so that it would not cut.\n\n\"If only I had Sindri's awl,\" sighed the dwarf, and instantly his\nbrother's awl was in his hand. Swiftly it pierced the lips of the\nmischief-maker, and swiftly Brok sewed them together and broke off the\nthread at the end of the sewing.\n\nThen the gods gave presents for the dwarfs in return for their\nwonderful things, and Brok returned to his cave. As for Loki, it\nwas not long before he loosed his lips and returned to his\nmischief-making.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI\n\nADAPTED FROM A. AND E. KEARY'S VERSION\n\n\nAfter the death of Baldur, Loki never again ventured to intrude\nhimself into the presence of the gods. He knew well enough that he had\nnow done what could never be forgiven him, and that, for the future,\nhe must bend all his cunning and vigilance to the task of hiding\nhimself from the gaze of those whom he had so injured, and escaping\nthe just punishment he had brought upon himself.\n\n\"The world is large, and I am very clever,\" said Loki to himself, as\nhe turned his back upon Asgard, and wandered out into Manheim; \"there\nis no end to the thick woods, and no measure for the deep waters;\nneither is there any possibility of counting the various forms under\nwhich I shall disguise myself. Odin will never be able to find me; I\nhave no cause to fear.\" But though Loki repeated this over and over\nagain to himself, he _was_ afraid.\n\nHe wandered far into the thick woods, and covered himself with the\ndeep waters; he climbed to the tops of misty hills, and crouched in\nthe dark of hollow caves; but above the wood, and through the water,\nand down into the darkness, a single ray of calm, clear light seemed\nalways to follow him, and he knew that it came from the eye of Odin\nwho was watching him from Air Throne.\n\nThen he tried to escape the watchful eye by disguising himself under\nvarious shapes. Sometimes he was an eagle on a lonely mountain-crag;\nsometimes he hid himself as one among a troop of timid reindeer;\nsometimes he lay in the nest of a wood-pigeon; sometimes he swam, a\nbright-spotted fish, in the sea; but, wherever he was, among living\ncreatures, or alone with dead nature, everything seemed to know him,\nand to find a voice in which to say to him, \"You are Loki, and you\nhave killed Baldur.\" Air, earth, or water, there was no rest for him\nanywhere.\n\nTired at last of seeking what he could nowhere find, Loki built\nhimself a house near a narrow, glittering river which, lower down\nflashed from a high rock into the sea below. He took care that his\nhouse should have four doors in it, that he might look out on every\nside and catch the first glimpse of the gods when they came, as he\nknew they would come, to take him away. Here his wife, Siguna, and his\ntwo sons, Ali and Nari, came to live with him.\n\nSiguna was a kind woman, far too good and kind for Loki. She felt\nsorry for him now that she saw he was in great fear, and that every\nliving thing had turned against him, and she would have hidden him\nfrom the just anger of the gods if she could; but the two sons cared\nlittle about their father's dread and danger; they spent all their\ntime in quarreling with each other; and their loud, angry voices,\nsounding above the waterfall, would speedily have betrayed the\nhiding-place, even if Odin's piercing eye had not already found it\nout.\n\nAt last, one day when he was sitting in the middle of his house\nlooking alternately out of all the four doors and amusing himself as\nwell as he could by making a fishing-net, he spied in the distance\nthe whole company of the gods approaching his house. The sight of them\ncoming all together--beautiful, and noble, and free--pierced Loki\nwith a pang that was worse than death. He rose without daring to look\nagain, threw his net on a fire that burned on the floor, and, rushing\nto the side of the little river, he turned himself into a salmon,\nswam down to the deepest, stillest pool at the bottom, and hid himself\nbetween two stones. The gods entered the house, and looked all round\nin vain for Loki, till Kvasir, one of Odin's sons, famous for his keen\nsight, spied out the remains of the fishing-net in the fire; then Odin\nknew at once that there was a river near, and that it was there where\nLoki had hidden himself. He ordered his sons to make a new net, and to\ncast it into the water, and drag out whatever living thing they could\nfind there. It was done as he desired. Thor held one end of the net,\nand all the rest of the gods drew the other through the water. When\nthey pulled it up the first time, however, it was empty, and they\nwould have gone away disappointed had not Kvasir, looking earnestly at\nthe meshes of the net, saw that something living had certainly touched\nthem. They then added a weight to the net, and threw it with such\nforce that it reached the bottom of the river, and dragged up the\nstones in the pool.\n\nLoki now saw the danger he was in of being caught in the net, and, as\nthere was no other way of escape, he rose to the surface, swam down\nthe river as quickly as he could, and leaped over the net into the\nwaterfall. He swam and leaped quick as a flash of lightning, but not\nso quickly but that the gods saw him, knew him through his disguise,\nand resolved that he should no longer escape. They themselves divided\ninto two bands. Thor waded down the river to the waterfall; the other\ngods stood in a group below. Loki swam backwards and forwards between\nthem. First he thought he would dart out into the sea, and then that\nhe would spring over the net back again into the river. This last\nseemed the easiest way of escape, and with the greatest speed he\nattempted it. Thor, however, was watching for him, and as soon as Loki\nleaped out of the water he stretched out his hand and caught him\nwhile he was yet turning in the air. Loki wriggled his slippery, slimy\nlength through Thor's fingers; but the Thunderer grasped him tightly\nby the tail, and, holding him in this manner in this hand, waded\nto the shore. There Father Odin and the other gods met him; and, at\nOdin's first searching look, Loki was obliged to drop his disguise,\nand, cowering and frightened, to assume his proper shape before the\nassembled lords. One by one they turned their faces from him; for, in\nlooking at him, they seemed to see over again the death of Baldur the\nBeloved.\n\nYou were told that there were high rocks looking over the sea near\nLoki's house. One of these, higher than the rest, had midway four\nprojecting stones, and to these the gods resolved to bind Loki so that\nhe should never again be able to torment the inhabitants of Manheim or\nAsgard by his evil-doings. Thor proposed to return to Asgard, to bring\na chain with which to bind the prisoner; but Odin assured him that\nhe had no need to take such a journey. \"Loki,\" he said, \"has already\nforged for himself a chain stronger than any you can make. While\nwe have been occupied in catching him, his two sons, Ali and Nari,\ntransformed into wolves by their evil passions, have fought with and\ndestroyed each other. With their sinews we must make a chain to bind\ntheir father, and from that he can never escape.\"\n\nIt was done as Asa Odin said. A rope was made of the dead wolves'\nsinews, and as soon as it touched Loki's body it turned into bands of\niron and bound him immovably to the rock. Secured in this manner the\ngods left him.\n\n[Illustration: THE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI.]\n\nBut his punishment did not end here. A snake, whose fangs dropped\npoison, glided to the top of the rock and leaned his head over to peer\nat Loki. The eyes of the two met and fixed each other. The serpent\ncould never move away afterwards; but every moment a burning drop from\nhis tongue fell down on Loki's shuddering face.\n\nIn all the world there was only one who pitied him. His kind wife ever\nafterwards stood beside him and held a cup over his head to catch the\npoison. When the cup was full, she was obliged to turn away to empty\nit, and the deadly drops fell again on Loki's face. He shuddered and\nshrank from them, and the whole earth trembled. So will he lie bound\ntill the Twilight of the Gods be here.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF INDIA\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLIND MAN, THE DEAF MAN, AND THE DONKEY\n\nADAPTED BY M. FRERE\n\n\nA Blind Man and a Deaf Man once entered into partnership. The Deaf Man\nwas to see for the Blind Man, and the Blind Man was to hear for the\nDeaf Man.\n\nOne day they went together to an entertainment where there was music\nand dancing. The Deaf Man said: \"The dancing is very good, but the\nmusic is not worth listening to\"; and the Blind Man said: \"On the\ncontrary, I think the music very good, but the dancing is not worth\nlooking at.\"\n\nAfter this they went together for a walk in the jungle, and there\nfound a washerman's Donkey that had strayed away from its owner, and a\ngreat big kettle (such as washermen boil clothes in), which the Donkey\nwas carrying with him.\n\nThe Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: \"Brother, here are a Donkey and\na washerman's great big kettle, with nobody to own them! Let us take\nthem with us--they may be useful to us some day.\" \"Very well,\" said\nthe Blind Man; \"we will take them with us.\" So the Blind Man and the\nDeaf Man went on their way, taking the Donkey and the great big kettle\nwith them. A little farther on they came to an ant's nest, and the\nDeaf Man said to the Blind Man: \"Here are a number of very fine black\nants, much larger than any I ever saw before. Let us take some of them\nhome to show our friends.\" \"Very well,\" answered the Blind Man; \"we\nwill take them as a present to our friends.\" So the Deaf Man took a\nsilver snuff-box out of his pocket, and put four or five of the finest\nblack ants into it; which done, they continued their journey.\n\nBut before they had gone very far a terrible storm came on. It\nthundered and lightened and rained and blew with such fury that it\nseemed as if the whole heavens' and earth were at war. \"Oh dear! oh\ndear!\" cried the Deaf Man, \"how dreadful this lightning is! Let us\nmake haste and get to some place of shelter.\" \"I don't see that it's\ndreadful at all,\" answered the blind Man; \"but the thunder is very\nterrible; we had better certainly seek some place of shelter.\"\n\nNow, not far off was a lofty building, which looked exactly like a\nfine temple. The Deaf Man saw it, and he and the Blind Man resolved to\nspend the night there; and having reached the place, they went in and\nshut the door, taking the Donkey and the great big kettle with them.\nBut this building, which they mistook for a temple was in truth no\ntemple at all, but the house of a very powerful Rakshas or ogre; and\nhardly had the Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey got inside and\nfastened the door, than the Rakshas, who had been out, returned home.\nTo his surprise, he found the door fastened and heard people moving\nabout inside his house. \"Ho! ho!\" cried he to himself, \"some men have\ngot in here, have they? I'll soon make mince-meat of them.\" So he\nbegan to roar in a voice louder than the thunder, and to cry: \"Let me\ninto my house this minute, you wretches; let me in, let me in, I say,\"\nand to kick the door and batter it with his great fists. But though\nhis voice was very powerful, his appearance was still more alarming,\ninsomuch that the Deaf Man, who was peeping at him through a chink in\nthe wall, felt so frightened that he did not know what to do. But the\nBlind Man was very brave (because he couldn't see), and went up to\nthe door and called out: \"Who are you, and what do you mean by coming\nbattering at the door in this way at this time of night?\"\n\n\"I'm a Rakshas,\" answered the Rakshas angrily, \"and this is my house.\nLet me in this instant or I'll kill you.\" All this time the Deaf Man,\nwho was watching the Rakshas, was shivering and shaking in a terrible\nfright, but the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn't see),\nand he called out again: \"Oh, you're a Rakshas, are you? Well, if\nyou're Rakshas, I'm Bakshas; and Bakshas is as good as Rakshas.\"\n\n\"Bakshas!\" roared the Rakshas. \"Bakshas! Bakshas! What nonsense is\nthis? There is no such creature as a Bakshas!\" \"Go away,\" replied the\nBlind Man, \"and don't dare to make any further disturbance, lest I\npunish you with a vengeance; for know that I'm Bakshas, and Bakshas\nis Rakshas's father.\" \"My father?\" answered the Rakshas. \"Heavens and\nearth! Bakshas, and my father! I never heard such an extraordinary\nthing in my life. You my father; and in there! I never knew my father\nwas called Bakshas!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Blind Man; \"go away instantly, I command you, for\nI am your father Bakshas.\" \"Very well,\" answered the Rakshas (for he\nbegan to get puzzled and frightened); \"but if you are my father, let\nme first see your face.\" (For he thought: \"Perhaps they are deceiving\nme.\") The Blind Man and the Deaf Man didn't know what to do; but at\nlast they opened the door a very tiny chink and poked the Donkey's\nnose out. When the Rakshas saw it he thought to himself: \"Bless me,\nwhat a terribly ugly face my father Bakshas has!\" He then called out:\n\"O father Bakshas, you have a very big, fierce face; but people have\nsometimes very big heads and very little bodies. Pray let me see your\nbody as well as head before I go away.\" Then the Blind Man and the\nDeaf Man rolled the washerman's great big kettle with a thundering\nnoise past the chink in the door, and the Rakshas, who was watching\nattentively, was very much surprised when he saw this great black\nthing rolling along the floor, and he thought: \"In truth, my father\nBakshas has a very big body as well as a big head. He's big enough to\neat me up altogether. I'd better go away.\" But still he could not help\nbeing a little doubtful, so he cried: \"O Bakshas, father Bakshas! you\nhave indeed got a very big head and a very big body; but do, before\nI go away, let me hear you scream,\" for all Rakshas scream fearfully.\nThen the cunning Deaf Man (who was getting less frightened) pulled the\nsilver snuff-box out of his pocket, and took the black ants out of it,\nand put one black ant in the Donkey's right ear, and another black ant\nin the Donkey's left ear, and another and another. The ants pinched\nthe poor Donkey's ears dreadfully, and the Donkey was so hurt and\nfrightened he began to bellow as loud as he could: \"Eh augh! eh augh!\neh augh! augh! augh!\" and at this terrible noise the Rakshas fled away\nin a great fright, saying: \"Enough, enough, father Bakshas! the sound\nof your voice would make the most refractory obedient.\" And no sooner\nhad he gone than the Deaf Man took the ants out of the Donkey's ears,\nand he and the Blind Man spent the rest of the night in peace and\ncomfort.\n\nNext morning the Deaf Man woke the Blind Man early, saying: \"Awake,\nbrother, awake: here we are indeed in luck! The whole floor is covered\nwith heaps of gold and silver and precious stones.\" And so it was, for\nthe Rakshas owned a vast amount of treasure, and the whole house was\nfull of it. \"That is a good thing,\" said the Blind Man. \"Show me where\nit is and I will help you to collect it.\" So they collected as much\ntreasure as possible and made four great bundles of it. The Blind Man\ntook one great bundle, the Deaf Man took another, and, putting the\nother two great bundles on the Donkey, they started off to return\nhome. But the Rakshas, whom they had frightened away the night before,\nhad not gone very far off, and was waiting to see what his father\nBakshas might look like by daylight. He saw the door of his house open\nand watched attentively, when out walked--only a Blind Man, a Deaf\nMan, and a Donkey, who were all three laden with large bundles of\nhis treasure. The Blind Man carried one bundle, the Deaf Man carried\nanother bundle, and two bundles were on the Donkey.\n\nThe Rakshas was extremely angry, and immediately called six of his\nfriends to help him kill the Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey,\nand recover the treasure.\n\nThe Deaf Man saw them coming (seven great Rakshas, with hair a yard\nlong and tusks like an elephant's), and was dreadfully frightened;\nbut the Blind Man was very brave (because he couldn't see), and said:\n\"Brother, why do you lag behind in that way?\" \"Oh!\" answered the Deaf\nMan, \"there are seven great Rakshas with tusks like an elephant's\ncoming to kill us! What can we do?\" \"Let us hide the treasure in the\nbushes,\" said the Blind Man; \"and do you lead me to a tree; then I\nwill climb up first, and you shall climb up afterward, and so we shall\nbe out of their way.\" The Deaf Man thought this good advice; so he\npushed the Donkey and the bundles of treasure into the bushes, and led\nthe Blind Man to a high soparee-tree that grew close by; but he was a\nvery cunning man, this Deaf Man, and instead of letting the Blind Man\nclimb up first and following him, he got up first and let the Blind\nMan clamber after, so that he was farther out of harm's way than his\nfriend.\n\nWhen the Rakshas arrived at the place and saw them both perched out of\nreach in the soparee-tree, he said to his friends: \"Let us get on each\nother's shoulders; we shall then be high enough to pull them down.\" So\none Rakshas stooped down, and the second got on his shoulders, and\nthe third on his, and the fourth on his, and the fifth on his, and the\nsixth on his; and the seventh and the last Rakshas (who had invited\nall the others) was just climbing up when the Deaf Man (who was\nlooking over the Blind Man's shoulder) got so frightened that in his\nalarm he caught hold of his friend's arm, crying: \"They're coming,\nthey're coming!\" The Blind Man was not in a very secure position, and\nwas sitting at his ease, not knowing how close the Rakshas were. The\nconsequence was, that when the Deaf Man gave him this unexpected push,\nhe lost his balance and tumbled down on to the neck of the seventh\nRakshas, who was just then climbing up. The Blind Man had no idea\nwhere he was, but thought he had got on to the branch of some other\ntree; and, stretching out his hand for something to catch hold of,\ncaught hold of the Rakshas's two great ears, and pinched them very\nhard in his surprise and fright. The Rakshas couldn't think what it\nwas that had come tumbling down upon him; and the weight of the Blind\nMan upsetting his balance, down he also fell to the ground, knocking\ndown in their turn the sixth, fifth, fourth, third, second, and first\nRakshas, who all rolled one over another, and lay in a confused heap\nat the foot of the tree together.\n\nMeanwhile the Blind Man called out to his friend: \"Where am I? What\nhas happened? Where am I? Where am I?\" The Deaf Man (who was safe up\nin the tree) answered: \"Well done, brother! never fear! never fear!\nYou're all right, only hold on tight. I'm coming down to help you.\"\nBut he had not the least intention of leaving his place of safety.\nHowever, he continued to call out: \"Never mind, brother; hold on as\ntight as you can. I'm coming, I'm coming,\" and the more he called out,\nthe harder the Blind Man pinched the Rakshas's ears, which he mistook\nfor some kind of palm branches.\n\nThe six other Rakshas, who had succeeded, after a good deal of\nkicking, in extricating themselves from their unpleasant position,\nthought they had had quite enough of helping their friend, and ran\naway as fast as they could; and the seventh, thinking from their going\nthat the danger must be greater than he imagined, and being, moreover,\nvery much afraid of the mysterious creature that sat on his shoulders,\nput his hands to the back of his ears and pushed off the Blind Man,\nand then, (without staying to see who or what he was) followed his six\ncompanions as fast as he could.\n\nAs soon as all the Rakshas were out of sight, the Deaf Man came down\nfrom the tree, and, picking up the Blind Man, embraced him, saying:\n\"I could not have done better myself. You have frightened away all our\nenemies, but you see I came to help you as fast as possible.\" He then\ndragged the Donkey and the bundles of treasure out of the bushes, gave\nthe Blind Man one bundle to carry, took the second himself, and put\nthe remaining two on the Donkey, as before. This done, the whole party\nset off to return home. But when they had got nearly out of the jungle\nthe Deaf Man said to the Blind Man: \"We are now close to the village;\nbut if we take all this treasure home with us, we shall run great risk\nof being robbed. I think our best plan would be to divide it equally;\nthen you can take care of your half and I will take care of mine, and\neach one can hide his share here in the jungle, or wherever pleases\nhim best.\" \"Very well,\" said the Blind Man; \"do you divide what we\nhave in the bundles into two equal portions, keeping one half yourself\nand giving me the other.\" The cunning Deaf Man, however, had no\nintention of giving up half of the treasure to the Blind Man; so he\nfirst took his own bundle of treasure and hid it in the bushes,\nand then he took the two bundles off the Donkey and hid them in the\nbushes; and he took a good deal of treasure out of the Blind Man's\nbundle, which he also hid. Then, taking the small quantity that\nremained, he divided it into two equal portions, and placing half\nbefore the Blind Man and half in front of himself, said: \"There,\nbrother, is your share to do what you please with.\" The Blind Man put\nout his hand, but when he felt what a very little heap of treasure\nit was, he got very angry, and cried: \"This is not fair--you are\ndeceiving me; you have kept almost all the treasure for yourself and\nonly given me a very little.\" \"Oh, oh! how can you think so?\" answered\nthe Deaf Man; \"but if you will not believe me, feel for yourself. See,\nmy heap of treasure is no larger than yours.\"\n\nThe Blind Man put out his hands again to feel how much his friend\nhad kept; but in front of the Deaf Man lay only a very small heap, no\nlarger than what he had himself received. At this he got very cross,\nand said: \"Come, come, this won't do. You think you can cheat me in\nthis way because I am blind; but I'm not so stupid as all that, I\ncarried a great bundle of treasure, you carried a great bundle of\ntreasure, and there were two great bundles on the Donkey. Do you mean\nto pretend that all that made no more treasure than these two little\nheaps! No, indeed; I know better than that.\" \"Stuff and nonsense!\"\nanswered the Deaf Man. \"Stuff or no stuff,\" continued the other, \"you\nare trying to take me in, and I won't be taken in by you.\" \"No, I'm\nnot,\" said the Deaf Man. \"Yes, you are,\" said the Blind Man; and so\nthey went on bickering, scolding, growling, contradicting, until the\nBlind Man got so enraged that he gave the Deaf Man a tremendous box on\nthe ear. The blow was so violent that it made the Deaf Man hear! The\nDeaf Man, very angry, gave his neighbor in return so hard a blow in\nthe face that it opened the Blind Man's eyes!\n\nSo the Deaf Man could hear as well as see, and the Blind Man could see\nas well as hear! This astonished them both so much that they became\ngood friends at once. The Deaf Man confessed to have hidden the bulk\nof the treasure, which he thereupon dragged forth from its place of\nconcealment, and having divided it equally, they went home and enjoyed\nthemselves.\n\n\n\n\nHARISARMAN\n\n\nThere was in a certain village, a certain Brahman named Harisarman.\nHe was poor and foolish and unhappy for want of employment, and he had\nvery many children. He wandered about begging with his family, and\nat last he reached a certain city, and entered the service of a\nrich householder called Sthuladatta. His sons became keepers of\nSthuladatta's cows and other property, and his wife a servant to\nhim, and he himself lived near his house, performing the duty of an\nattendant. One day there was a feast on account of the marriage of\nthe daughter of Sthuladatta, largely attended by many friends of the\nbridegroom and merry-makers. Harisarman hoped that he would be able to\nfill himself up to the throat with oil and flesh and other dainties,\nand get the same for his family, in the house of his patron. While he\nwas anxiously expecting to be fed, no one thought of him.\n\nThen he was distressed at getting nothing to eat, and he said to his\nwife at night: \"It is owing to my poverty and stupidity that I am\ntreated with such disrespect here; so I will pretend by means of an\nartifice to possess a knowledge of magic, so that I may become\nan object of respect to this Sthuladatta; so, when you get an\nopportunity, tell him that I possess magical knowledge.\" He said this\nto her, and after turning the matter over in his mind, while people\nwere asleep he took away from the house of Sthuladatta a horse on\nwhich his master's son-in-law rode. He placed it in concealment at\nsome distance, and in the morning the friends of the bridegroom could\nnot find the horse, though they searched in every direction. Then,\nwhile Sthuladatta was distressed at the evil omen, and searching for\nthe thieves who had carried off the horse, the wife of Harisarman came\nand said to him: \"My husband is a wise man, skilled in astrology and\nmagical sciences; he can get the horse back for you--why do you not\nask him?\" When Sthuladatta heard that, he called Harisarman, who said,\n\"Yesterday I was forgotten, but to-day, now the horse is stolen, I\nam called to mind;\" and Sthuladatta then propitiated the Brahman with\nthese words: \"I forgot you, forgive me,\" and asked him to tell him\nwho had taken away their horse. Then Harisarman drew all kinds of\npretended diagrams, and said: \"The horse has been placed by thieves\non the boundary line south from this place. It is concealed there, and\nbefore it is carried off to a distance, as it will be at close of\nday, go quickly and bring it.\" When they heard that, many men ran and\nbrought the horse quickly, praising the discernment of Harisarman.\nThen Harisarman was honored by all men as a sage, and dwelt there in\nhappiness, honored by Sthuladatta.\n\nNow, as days went on, much treasure, both of gold and jewels, had been\nstolen by a thief from the palace of the King. As the thief was\nnot known, the King quickly summoned Harisarman on account of his\nreputation for knowledge of magic. And he, when summoned, tried to\ngain time, and said: \"I will tell you to-morrow,\" and then he was\nplaced in a chamber by the King and carefully guarded. And he was sad\nbecause he had pretended to have knowledge. Now, in that palace there\nwas a maid named Jihva (which means Tongue), who, with the assistance\nof her brother, had stolen that treasure from the interior of the\npalace. She, being alarmed at Harisarman's knowledge, went at night\nand applied her ear to the door of that chamber in order to find out\nwhat he was about. And Harisarman, who was alone inside, was at that\nvery moment blaming his own tongue, that had made a vain assumption\nof knowledge. He said: \"Oh, tongue, what is this that you have done\nthrough your greediness? Wicked one, you will soon receive punishment\nin full.\" When Jihva heard this, she thought, in her terror, that she\nhad been discovered by this wise man, and she managed to get in where\nhe was, and, falling at his feet, she said to the supposed wizard:\n\"Brahman, here I am, that Jihva whom you have discovered to be the\nthief of the treasure, and after I took it I buried it in the earth in\na garden behind the palace, under a pomegranate tree. So spare me, and\nreceive the small quantity of gold which is in my possession.\"\n\nWhen Harisarman heard that, he said to her proudly: \"Depart, I\nknow all this; I know the past, present, and future, but I will not\ndenounce you, a miserable creature that has implored my protection.\nBut whatever gold is in your possession you must give back to me.\"\nWhen he said this to the maid, she consented, and departed quickly.\nBut Harisarman reflected in his astonishment: \"Fate brings about, as\nif in sport, things impossible; for, when calamity was so near, who\nwould have thought chance would have brought us success? While I was\nblaming my jihva, the thief Jihva suddenly flung herself at my feet.\nSecret crimes manifest themselves by means of fear.\" Thus thinking, he\npassed the night happily in the chamber. And in the morning he brought\nthe King, by some skilful parade of pretended knowledge, into the\ngarden and led him up to the treasure, which was buried under the\npomegranate tree, and said the thief had escaped with a part of it.\nThen the King was pleased, and gave him the revenue of many villages.\n\nBut the minister, named Devajnanin, whispered in the King's ear: \"How\ncan a man possess such knowledge unattainable by men without having\nstudied the books of magic? You may be certain that this is a specimen\nof the way he makes a dishonest livelihood, by having a secret\nintelligence with thieves. It will be much better to test him by\nsome new artifice.\" Then the King of his own accord brought a covered\npitcher into which he had thrown a frog, and said to Harisarman:\n\"Brahman, if you can guess what there is in this pitcher, I will do\nyou great honor to-day.\" When the Brahman Harisarman heard that, he\nthought that his last hour had come, and he called to mind the pet\nname of \"Froggie,\" which his father had given him in his childhood in\nsport; and, impelled by luck, he called to himself by his pet name,\nlamenting his hard fate, and suddenly called out: \"This is a fine\npitcher for you, Froggie; it will soon become the swift destroyer of\nyour helpless self.\" The people there, when they heard him say that,\nraised a shout of applause, because his speech chimed in so well with\nthe object presented to him, and murmured: \"Ah! a great sage; he knows\neven about the frog!\" Then the King, thinking that this was all due to\nknowledge of divination, was highly delighted, and gave Harisarman the\nrevenue of more villages, with gold, an umbrella, and state carriages\nof all kinds. So Harisarman prospered in the world.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE FISH LAUGHED\n\n\nAs a certain fisherwoman passed by a palace crying her fish, the Queen\nappeared at one of the windows and beckoned her to come near and\nshow what she had. At that moment a very big fish jumped about in the\nbottom of the basket.\n\n\"Is it a he or a she?\" inquired the Queen. \"I wish to purchase a\nshe-fish.\"\n\nOn hearing this the fish laughed aloud.\n\n\"It's a he,\" replied the fisherwoman, and proceeded on her rounds.\n\nThe Queen returned to her room in a great rage; and on coming to see\nher in the evening, the King noticed that something had disturbed her.\n\n\"Are you indisposed?\" he said.\n\n\"No; but I am very much annoyed at the strange behavior of a fish. A\nwoman brought me one to-day, and on my inquiring whether it was a male\nor female, the fish laughed most rudely.\"\n\n\"A fish laugh! Impossible! You must be dreaming.\"\n\n\"I am not a fool. I speak of what I have seen with my own eyes and\nhave heard with my own ears.\"\n\n\"Passing strange! Be it so. I will inquire concerning it.\"\n\nOn the morrow the King repeated to his vizier what his wife had\ntold him, and bade him investigate the matter, and be ready with a\nsatisfactory answer within six months, on pain of death. The vizier\npromised to do his best, though he felt almost certain of failure. For\nfive months he labored indefatigably to find a reason for the laughter\nof the fish. He sought everywhere and from every one. The wise and\nlearned, and they who were skilled in magic and in all manner of\ntrickery, were consulted. Nobody, however, could explain the matter;\nand so he returned broken-hearted to his house, and began to arrange\nhis affairs in prospect of certain death, for he had had sufficient\nexperience of the King to know that his Majesty would not go back from\nhis threat. Among other things, he advised his son to travel for a\ntime, until the King's anger should have somewhat cooled.\n\nThe young fellow, who was both clever and handsome, started off\nwhithersoever fate might lead him. He had been gone some days, when\nhe fell in with an old farmer, who also was on a journey to a certain\nvillage. Finding the old man very pleasant, he asked him if he might\naccompany him, professing to be on a visit to the same place. The old\nfarmer agreed, and they walked along together. The day was hot, and\nthe way was long and weary.\n\n\"Don't you think it would be pleasanter if you and I sometimes gave\neach other a lift?\" said the youth.\n\n\"What a fool the man is!\" thought the old farmer.\n\nPresently they passed through a field of corn ready for the sickle,\nand looking like a sea of gold as it waved to and fro in the breeze.\n\n\"Is this eaten or not?\" said the young man.\n\nNot understanding his meaning, the old man replied, \"I don't know.\"\n\nAfter a little while the two travelers arrived at a big village, where\nthe young man gave his companion a clasp-knife, and said, \"Take this,\nfriend, and get two horses with it; but mind and bring it back, for it\nis very precious.\"\n\nThe old man, looking half amused and half angry, pushed back the\nknife, muttering something to the effect that his friend was either a\nfool himself, or else trying to play the fool with him. The young man\npretended not to notice his reply, and remained almost silent till\nthey reached the city, a short distance outside which was the old\nfarmer's house. They walked about the bazaar and went to the mosque,\nbut nobody saluted them or invited them to come in and rest.\n\n\"What a large cemetery!\" exclaimed the young man.\n\n\"What does the man mean,\" thought the old farmer, \"calling this\nlargely populated city a cemetery?\"\n\nOn leaving the city their way led through a graveyard where a few\npeople were praying beside a tomb and distributing _chapatis_ and\n_kulchas_ to passers-by, in the name of their beloved dead. They\nbeckoned to the two travelers and gave them as much as they would.\n\n\"What a splendid city this is!\" said the young man.\n\n\"Now, the man must surely be demented!\" thought the old farmer. \"I\nwonder what he will do next? He will be calling the land water, and\nthe water land; and be speaking of light where there is darkness,\nand of darkness when it is light.\" However, he kept his thoughts to\nhimself.\n\nPresently they had to wade through a stream that ran along the edge\nof the cemetery. The water was rather deep, so the old farmer took\noff his shoes and pajamas and crossed over; but the young man waded\nthrough it with his shoes and pajamas on.\n\n\"Well! I never did see such a perfect fool, both in word and in deed,\"\nsaid the old man to himself.\n\nHowever, he liked the fellow; and thinking that he would amuse his\nwife and daughter, he invited him to come and stay at his house as\nlong as he had occasion to remain in the village.\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" the young man replied; \"but let me first\ninquire, if you please, whether the beam of your house is strong.\"\n\nThe old farmer left him in despair, and entered his house laughing.\n\n\"There is a man in yonder field,\" he said, after returning their\ngreetings. \"He has come the greater part of the way with me, and I\nwanted him to put up here as long as he had to stay in this village.\nBut the fellow is such a fool that I cannot make anything out of him.\nHe wants to know if the beam of this house is all right. The man must\nbe mad!\" and saying this, he burst into a fit of laughter.\n\n\"Father,\" said the farmer's daughter, who was a very sharp and wise\ngirl, \"this man, whosoever he is, is no fool, as you deem him. He only\nwishes to know if you can afford to entertain him.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course,\" replied the farmer. \"I see. Well, perhaps you can\nhelp me to solve some of his other mysteries. While we were walking\ntogether he asked whether he should carry me or I should carry him, as\nhe thought that would be a pleasanter mode of proceeding.\"\n\n\"Most assuredly,\" said the girl; \"he meant that one of you should tell\na story to beguile the time.\"\n\n\"Oh yes. Well, we were passing through a corn-field, when he asked me\nwhether it was eaten or not.\"\n\n\"And didn't you know the meaning of this, father? He simply wished to\nknow if the man was in debt or not; because, if the owner of the field\nwas in debt, then the produce of the field was as good as eaten to\nhim; that is, it would have to go to his creditors.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, yes, of course! Then, on entering a certain village, he\nbade me take his clasp-knife and get two horses with it, and bring\nback the knife to him.\"\n\n\"Are not two stout sticks as good as two horses for helping one\nalong on the road? He only asked you to cut a couple of sticks and be\ncareful not to lose his knife.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said the farmer. \"While we were walking over the city we\ndid not see anybody that we knew, and not a soul gave us a scrap of\nanything to eat, till we were passing the cemetery; but there some\npeople called to us and put into our hands some _chapatis_ and\n_kulchas_, so my companion called the city a cemetery, and the\ncemetery a city.\"\n\n\"This also is to be understood, father, if one thinks of the city\nas the place where everything is to be obtained, and of inhospitable\npeople as worse than the dead. The city, though crowded with people,\nwas as if dead, as far as you were concerned; while, in the cemetery,\nwhich is crowded with the dead, you were saluted by kind friends and\nprovided with bread.\"\n\n\"True, true!\" said the astonished farmer. \"Then, just now, when we\nwere crossing the stream, he waded through it without taking off his\nshoes and pajamas.\"\n\n\"I admire his wisdom,\" replied the girl. \"I have often thought how\nstupid people were to venture into that swiftly flowing stream and\nover those sharp stones with bare feet. The slightest stumble and they\nwould fall, and be wetted from head to foot. This friend of yours is a\nmost wise man. I should like to see him and speak to him.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the farmer; \"I will go and find him, and bring him\nin.\"\n\n\"Tell him, father, that our beams are strong enough, and then he will\ncome in. I'll send on ahead a present to the man, to show him that we\ncan afford to have him for our guest.\"\n\nAccordingly she called a servant and sent him to the young man with\na present of a basin of _ghee_, twelve _chapatis_, and a jar of milk,\nand the following message: \"O friend, the moon is full; twelve months\nmake a year, and the sea is overflowing with water.\"\n\nHalf-way the bearer of this present and message met his little son,\nwho, seeing what was in the basket, begged his father to give him some\nof the food. His father foolishly complied. Presently he saw the young\nman, and gave him the rest of the present and the message.\n\n\"Give your mistress my salaam,\" he replied, \"and tell her that the\nmoon is new, and that I can find only eleven months in the year, and\nthe sea is by no means full.\"\n\nNot understanding the meaning of these words, the servant repeated\nthem word for word, as he had heard them, to his mistress; and thus\nhis theft was discovered, and he was severely punished. After a little\nwhile the young man appeared with the old farmer. Great attention was\nshown to him, and he was treated in every way as if he were the son of\na great man, although his humble host knew nothing of his origin. At\nlength he told them everything--about the laughing of the fish, his\nfather's threatened execution, and his own banishment--and asked their\nadvice as to what he should do.\n\n\"The laughing of the fish,\" said the girl, \"which seems to have been\nthe cause of all this trouble, indicates that there is a man in the\npalace who is plotting against the King's life.\"\n\n\"Joy, joy!\" exclaimed the vizier's son. \"There is yet time for me to\nreturn and save my father from an ignominious and unjust death, and\nthe King from danger.\"\n\nThe following day he hastened back to his own country, taking with him\nthe farmer's daughter. Immediately on arrival he ran to the palace and\ninformed his father of what he had heard. The poor vizier, now almost\ndead from the expectation of death, was at once carried to the King,\nto whom he repeated the news that his son had just brought.\n\n\"Never!\" said the King.\n\n\"But it must be so, your Majesty,\" replied the vizier; \"and in order\nto prove the truth of what I have heard, I pray you to call together\nall the maids in your palace and order them to jump over a pit, which\nmust be dug. We'll soon find out whether there is any man there.\"\n\nThe King had the pit dug, and commanded all the maids belonging to\nthe palace to try to jump over it. All of them tried, but only one\nsucceeded. That one was found to be a man!\n\nThus was the Queen satisfied, and the faithful old vizier saved.\n\nAfterward, as soon as could be, the vizier's son married the old\nfarmer's daughter; and a most happy marriage it was.\n\n\n\n\nMUCHIE LAL\n\nADAPTED BY M. FRERE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were a Rajah and Ranee who had no children.\nLong had they wished and prayed that the gods would send them a son,\nbut it was all in vain--their prayers were not granted. One day a\nnumber of fish were brought into the royal kitchen to be cooked for\nthe Rajah's dinner, and amongst them was one little fish that was not\ndead, but all the rest were dead. One of the palace maid-servants,\nseeing this, took the little fish and put him in a basin of water.\nShortly afterward the Ranee saw him, and thinking him very pretty,\nkept him as a pet; and because she had no children she lavished all\nher affection on the fish and loved him as a son; and the people\ncalled him Muchie Rajah (the Fish Prince).\n\nIn a little while Muchie Rajah had grown too long to live in the small\nbasin, so they put him into a larger one, and then (when he grew too\nlong for that) into a big tub. In time, however, Muchie Rajah became\ntoo large for even the big tub to hold him; so the Ranee had a tank\nmade for him, in which he lived very happily, and twice a day she fed\nhim with boiled rice. Now, though the people fancied Muchie Rajah was\nonly a fish, this was not the case. He was, in truth, a young Rajah\nwho had angered the gods, and been by them turned into a fish and\nthrown into the river as a punishment.\n\nOne morning, when the Ranee brought him his daily meal of boiled rice,\nMuchie Rajah called out to her and said, \"Queen Mother, Queen Mother,\nI am so lonely here all by myself! Cannot you get me a wife?\" The\nRanee promised to try, and sent messengers to all the people she knew,\nto ask if they would allow one of their children to marry her son, the\nFish Prince. But they all answered: \"We cannot give one of our dear\nlittle daughters to be devoured by a great fish, even though he is the\nMuchie Rajah and so high in your Majesty's favor.\"\n\nAt news of this the Ranee did not know what to do. She was so\nfoolishly fond of Muchie Rajah, however, that she resolved to get him\na wife at any cost. Again she sent out messengers, but this time she\ngave them a great bag containing a lac of gold mohurs, and said to\nthem: \"Go into every land until you find a wife for my Muchie Rajah,\nand to whoever will give you a child to be the Muchie Ranee you shall\ngive this bag of gold mohurs.\" The messengers started on their search,\nbut for some time they were unsuccessful; not even the beggars were to\nbe tempted to sell their children, fearing the great fish would devour\nthem. At last one day the messengers came to a village where there\nlived a Fakeer, who had lost his first wife and married again. His\nfirst wife had had one little daughter, and his second wife also had\na daughter. As it happened, the Fakeer's second wife hated her little\nstepdaughter, always gave her the hardest work to do and the least\nfood to eat, and tried by every means in her power to get her out of\nthe way, in order that the child might not rival her own daughter.\nWhen she heard of the errand on which the messengers had come, she\nsent for them when the Fakeer was out, and said to them: \"Give me the\nbag of gold mohurs, and you shall take my little daughter to marry the\nMuchie Rajah.\" (\"For,\" she thought to herself, \"the great fish will\ncertainly eat the girl, and she will thus trouble us no more.\") Then,\nturning to her stepdaughter, she said: \"Go down to the river and wash\nyour _saree_, that you may be fit to go with these people, who will\ntake you to the Ranee's court.\" At these words the poor girl went down\nto the river very sorrowful, for she saw no hope of escape, as her\nfather was from home. As she knelt by the river-side, washing her\n_saree_ and crying bitterly, some of her tears fell into the hole of\nan old Seven-headed Cobra, who lived on the river-bank. This Cobra was\na very wise animal, and seeing the maiden, he put his head out of his\nhole, and said to her: \"Little girl, why do you cry?\" \"Oh, sir,\"\nshe answered, \"I am very unhappy; for my father is from home, and my\nstepmother has sold me to the Ranee's people to be the wife of the\nMuchie Rajah, that great fish, and I know he will eat me up.\" \"Do\nnot be afraid, my daughter,\" said the Cobra; \"but take with you these\nthree stones and tie them up in the corner of your _saree_;\" and so\nsaying, he gave her three little round pebbles. \"The Muchie Rajah,\nwhose wife you are to be, is not really a fish, but a Rajah who has\nbeen enchanted. Your home will be a little room which the Ranee has\nhad built in the tank wall. When you are taken there, wait and be sure\nyou don't go to sleep, or the Muchie Rajah will certainly come and\neat you up. But as you hear him coming rushing through the water, be\nprepared, and as soon as you see him, throw this first stone at him;\nhe will then sink to the bottom of the tank. The second time he comes,\nthrow the second stone, when the same thing will happen. The third\ntime he comes, throw this third stone, and he will immediately resume\nhis human shape.\" So saying, the old Cobra dived down again into his\nhole. The Fakeer's daughter took the stones and determined to do as\nthe Cobra had told her, though she hardly believed it would have the\ndesired effect.\n\nWhen she reached the palace the Ranee spoke kindly to her, and said to\nthe messengers: \"You have done your errand well; this is a dear little\ngirl.\" Then she ordered that she should be let down the side of the\ntank in a basket to a little room which had been prepared for her.\nWhen the Fakeer's daughter got there, she thought she had never seen\nsuch a pretty place in her life (for the Ranee had caused the little\nroom to be very nicely decorated for the wife of her favorite); and\nshe would have felt very happy away from her cruel stepmother and all\nthe hard work she had been made to do, had it not been for the dark\nwater that lay black and unfathomable below the door and the fear of\nthe terrible Muchie Rajah.\n\nAfter waiting some time she heard a rushing sound, and little waves\ncame dashing against the threshold; faster they came and faster, and\nthe noise got louder and louder, until she saw a great fish's head\nabove the water--Muchie Rajah was coming toward her open-mouthed. The\nFakeer's daughter seized one of the stones that the Cobra had given\nher and threw it at him, and down he sank to the bottom of the tank;\na second time he rose and came toward her, and she threw the second\nstone at him, and he again sank down; a third time he came more\nfiercely than before, when, seizing a third stone, she threw it with\nall her force. No sooner did it touch him than the spell was broken,\nand there, instead of a fish, stood a handsome young Prince. The poor\nlittle Fakeer's daughter was so startled that she began to cry. But\nthe Prince said to her: \"Pretty maiden, do not be frightened. You have\nrescued me from a horrible thraldom, and I can never thank you enough;\nbut if you will be the Muchie Ranee, we will be married to-morrow.\"\nThen he sat down on the doorstep, thinking over his strange fate and\nwatching for the dawn.\n\nNext morning early several inquisitive people came to see if the\nMuchie Rajah had eaten up his poor little wife, as they feared he\nwould; what was their astonishment, on looking over the tank wall,\nto see, not the Muchie Rajah, but a magnificent Prince! The news soon\nspread to the palace. Down came the Rajah, down came the Ranee, down\ncame all their attendants, and dragged Muchie Rajah and the Fakeer's\ndaughter up the side of the tank in a basket; and when they heard\ntheir story there were great and unparalleled rejoicings. The Ranee\nsaid, \"So I have indeed found a son at last!\" And the people were so\ndelighted, so happy and so proud of the new Prince and Princess, that\nthey covered all their path with damask from the tank to the palace,\nand cried to their fellows, \"Come and see our new Prince and Princess!\nWere ever any so divinely beautiful? Come see a right royal couple,--a\npair of mortals like the gods!\" And when they reached the palace the\nprince was married to the Fakeer's daughter.\n\nThere they lived very happily for some time. The Muchie Ranee's\nstepmother, hearing what had happened, came often to see her\nstepdaughter, and pretended to be delighted at her good fortune; and\nthe Ranee was so good that she quite forgave all her stepmother's\nformer cruelty, and always received her very kindly. At last, one day,\nthe Muchie Ranee said to her husband, \"It is a weary while since I saw\nmy father. If you will give me leave, I should much like to visit my\nnative village and see him again.\" \"Very well,\" he replied, \"you may\ngo. But do not stay away long; for there can be no happiness for me\ntill you return.\" So she went, and her father was delighted to see\nher; but her stepmother, though she pretended to be very kind, was in\nreality only glad to think she had got the Ranee into her power, and\ndetermined, if possible, never to allow her to return to the palace\nagain. One day, therefore, she said to her own daughter, \"It is hard\nthat your stepsister should have become Ranee of all the land instead\nof being eaten up by the great fish, while we gained no more than a\nlac of gold mohurs. Do now as I bid you, that you may become Ranee in\nher stead.\" She then went on to instruct her that she must invite the\nRanee down to the river-bank, and there beg her to let her try on her\njewels, and while putting them on give her a push and drown her in the\nriver.\n\nThe girl consented, and standing by the river-bank, said to her\nstepsister, \"Sister, may I try on your jewels?--how pretty they are!\"\n\"Yes,\" said the Ranee, \"and we shall be able to see in the river how\nthey look.\" So, undoing her necklaces, she clasped them round the\nother's neck. But while she was doing so her stepsister gave her a\npush, and she fell backward into the water. The girl watched to\nsee that the body did not rise, and then, running back, said to her\nmother, \"Mother, here are all the jewels, and she will trouble us no\nmore.\" But it happened that just when her stepsister pushed the Ranee\ninto the river her old friend the Seven-headed Cobra chanced to be\nswimming across it, and seeing the little Ranee likely to be drowned,\nhe carried her on his back until he reached his hole, into which he\ntook her safely. Now this hole, in which the Cobra and his wife and\nall his little ones lived, had two entrances,--the one under the water\nand leading to the river, and the other above water, leading out into\nthe open fields. To this upper end of his hole the Cobra took the\nMuchie Ranee, where he and his wife took care of her; and there she\nlived with them for some time. Meanwhile, the wicked Fakeer's wife,\nhaving dressed up her own daughter in all the Ranee's jewels, took her\nto the palace, and said to the Muchie Rajah, \"See, I have brought your\nwife, my dear daughter, back safe and well.\" The Rajah looked at her,\nand thought, \"This does not look like my wife.\" However, the room was\ndark and the girl was cleverly disguised, and he thought he might be\nmistaken. Next day he said again: \"My wife must be sadly changed or\nthis cannot be she, for she was always bright and cheerful. She had\npretty loving ways and merry words, while this woman never opens\nher lips.\" Still, he did not like to seem to mistrust his wife, and\ncomforted himself by saying, \"Perhaps she is tired with the long\njourney.\" On the third day, however, he could bear the uncertainty\nno longer, and tearing off her jewels, saw, not the face of his own\nlittle wife, but another woman. Then he was very angry and turned her\nout of doors, saying, \"Begone; since you are but the wretched tool of\nothers, I spare your life.\" But of the Fakeer's wife he said to his\nguards, \"Fetch that woman here instantly; for unless she can tell me\nwhere my wife is, I will have her hanged.\" It chanced, however, that\nthe Fakeer's wife had heard of the Muchie Rajah having turned her\ndaughter out of doors; so, fearing his anger, she hid herself, and was\nnot to be found.\n\nMeantime, the Muchie Ranee, not knowing how to get home, continued to\nlive in the great Seven-headed Cobra's hole, and he and his wife and\nall his family were very kind to her, and loved her as if she had been\none of them; and there her little son was born, and she called him\nMuchie Lal, after the Muchie Rajah, his father. Muchie Lal was a\nlovely child, merry and brave, and his playmates all day long were the\nyoung Cobras. When he was about three years old a bangle-seller came\nby that way, and the Muchie Ranee bought some bangles from him and put\nthem on her boy's wrists and ankles; but by the next day, in playing,\nhe had broke them all. Then, seeing the bangle-seller, the Ranee\ncalled him again and bought some more, and so on every day until the\nbangle-seller got quite rich from selling so many bangles for the\nMuchie Lal; for the Cobra's hole was full of treasure, and he gave the\nMuchie Ranee as much money to spend every day as she liked. There was\nnothing she wished for he did not give her, only he would not let her\ntry to get home to her husband, which she wished more than all.\nWhen she asked him he would say: \"No, I will not let you go. If your\nhusband comes here and fetches you, it is well; but I will not allow\nyou to wander in search of him through the land alone.\"\n\nAnd so she was obliged to stay where she was.\n\nAll this time the poor Muchie Rajah was hunting in every part of the\ncountry for his wife, but he could learn no tidings of her. For\ngrief and sorrow at losing her he had gone almost distracted, and did\nnothing but wander from place to place, crying, \"She is gone! she is\ngone!\" Then, when he had long inquired without avail of all the people\nin her native village about her, he one day met a bangle-seller and\nsaid to him, \"Whence do you come?\" The bangle-seller answered, \"I have\njust been selling bangles to some people who live in a Cobra's hole\nin the river-bank.\" \"People! What people?\" asked the Rajah. \"Why,\"\nanswered the bangle-seller, \"a woman and a child; the child is the\nmost beautiful I ever saw. He is about three years old, and of course,\nrunning about, is always breaking his bangles and his mother buys him\nnew ones every day.\" \"Do you know what the child's name is?\" said the\nRajah. \"Yes,\" answered the bangle-seller carelessly, \"for the lady\nalways calls him her Muchie Lal.\" \"Ah,\" thought the Muchie\nRajah, \"this must be my wife.\" Then he said to him again, \"Good\nbangle-seller, I would see these strange people of whom you speak;\ncannot you take me there?\" \"Not to-night,\" replied the bangle-seller;\n\"daylight has gone, and we should only frighten them; but I shall be\ngoing there again to-morrow, and then you may come too. Meanwhile,\ncome and rest at my house for the night, for you look faint and\nweary.\" The Rajah consented. Next morning, however, very early, he\nwoke the bangle-seller, saying, \"Pray let us go now and see the people\nyou spoke about yesterday.\" \"Stay,\" said the bangle-seller; \"it is\nmuch too early. I never go till after breakfast.\" So the Rajah had to\nwait till the bangle-seller was ready to go. At last they started off,\nand when they reached the Cobra's hole the first thing the Rajah saw\nwas a fine little boy playing with the young Cobras.\n\nAs the bangle-seller came along, jingling his bangles, a gentle voice\nfrom inside the hole called out, \"Come here, my Muchie Lal, and try\non your bangles.\" Then the Muchie Rajah, kneeling down at the mouth\nof the hole, said, \"Oh, lady, show your beautiful face to me.\" At the\nsound of his voice the Ranee ran out, crying, \"Husband, husband! have\nyou found me again?\" And she told him how her sister had tried to\ndrown her, and how the good Cobra had saved her life and taken care of\nher and her child. Then he said, \"And will you now come home with me?\"\nAnd she told him how the Cobra would never let her go, and said, \"I\nwill first tell him of your coming; for he has been a father to me.\"\nSo she called out, \"Father Cobra, father Cobra, my husband has come\nto fetch me; will you let me go?\" \"Yes,\" he said, \"if your husband\nhas come to fetch you, you may go.\" And his wife said, \"Farewell, dear\nlady, we are loath to lose you, for we have loved you as a daughter.\"\nAnd all the little Cobras were very sorrowful to think that they\nmust lose their playfellow, the young Prince. Then the Cobra gave the\nMuchie Rajah and the Muchie Ranee and Muchie Lal all the most costly\ngifts he could find in his treasure-house; and so they went home,\nwhere they lived very happy ever after.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE RAJAH'S SON WON THE PRINCESS LABAM\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nIn a country there was a Rajah who had an only son who every day went\nout to hunt. One day the Ranee his mother, said to him, \"You can hunt\nwherever you like on these three sides; but you must never go to the\nfourth side.\" This she said because she knew if he went on the fourth\nside he would hear of the beautiful Princess Labam, and that then he\nwould leave his father and mother and seek for the Princess.\n\nThe young Prince listened to his mother, and obeyed her for some\ntime; but one day, when he was hunting on the three sides where he was\nallowed to go, he remembered what she had said to him about the fourth\nside, and he determined to go and see why she had forbidden him to\nhunt on that side. When he got there, he found himself in a jungle,\nand nothing in the jungle but a quantity of parrots, who lived in it.\nThe young Rajah shot at some of them, and at once they all flew away\nup to the sky. All, that is, but one, and this was their Rajah, who\nwas called Hiraman parrot.\n\nWhen Hiraman parrot found himself left alone, he called out to the\nother parrots, \"Don't fly away and leave me alone when the Rajah's son\nshoots. If you desert me like this, I will tell the Princess Labam.\"\n\nThen the parrots all flew back to their Rajah, chattering. The Prince\nwas greatly surprised, and said, \"Why, these birds can talk!\" Then he\nsaid to the parrots, \"Who is the Princess Labam? Where does she live?\"\nBut the parrots would not tell him where she lived. \"You can never get\nto the Princess Labam's country.\" That is all they would say.\n\nThe Prince grew very sad when they would not tell him anything more;\nand he threw his gun away and went home. When he got home, he would\nnot speak or eat, but lay on his bed for four or five days, and seemed\nvery ill.\n\nAt last he told his father and mother that he wanted to go and see the\nPrincess Labam. \"I must go,\" he said; \"I must see what she is like.\nTell me where her country is.\"\n\n\"We do not know where it is,\" answered his father and mother.\n\n\"Then I must go and look for it,\" said the Prince.\n\n\"No, no,\" they said, \"you must not leave us. You are our only son.\nStay with us. You will never find the Princess Labam.\"\n\n\"I must try and find her,\" said the Prince. \"Perhaps God will show\nme the way. If I live and I find her, I will come back to you; but\nperhaps I shall die, and then I shall never see you again. Still I\nmust go.\"\n\nSo they had to let him go, though they cried very much at parting with\nhim. His father gave him fine clothes to wear, and a fine horse.\nAnd he took his gun, and his bow and arrows, and a great many other\nweapons; \"for,\" he said, \"I may want them.\" His father, too, gave him\nplenty of rupees.\n\nThen he himself got his horse all ready for the journey, and he said\ngood-by to his father and mother; and his mother took her handkerchief\nand wrapped some sweetmeats in it, and gave it to her son. \"My child,\"\nshe said to him, \"when you are hungry eat some of these sweetmeats.\"\n\nHe then set out on his journey, and rode on and on till he came to a\njungle in which were a tank and shady trees. He bathed himself and his\nhorse in the tank, and then sat down under a tree. \"Now,\" he said to\nhimself, \"I will eat some of the sweetmeats my mother gave me, and I\nwill drink some water, and then I will continue my journey.\" He opened\nhis handkerchief and took out a sweetmeat. He found an ant in it. He\ntook out another. There was an ant in that one too. So he laid the two\nsweetmeats on the ground, and he took out another, and another, and\nanother, until he had taken them all out; but in each he found an ant.\n\"Never mind,\" he said, \"I won't eat the sweetmeats; the ants shall\neat them.\" Then the Ant-Rajah came and stood before him and said, \"You\nhave been good to us. If ever you are in trouble, think of me and we\nwill come to you.\"\n\nThe Rajah's son thanked him, mounted his horse and continued his\njourney. He rode on and on until he came to another jungle, and there\nhe saw a tiger who had a thorn in his foot, and was roaring loudly\nfrom the pain.\n\n\"Why do you roar like that?\" said the young Rajah. \"What is the matter\nwith you?\"\n\n\"I have had a thorn in my foot for twelve years,\" answered the tiger,\n\"and it hurts me so; that is why I roar.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the Rajah's son, \"I will take it out for you. But\nperhaps, as you are a tiger, when I have made you well, you will eat\nme?\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" said the tiger, \"I won't eat you. Do make me well.\"\n\nThen the Prince took a little knife from his pocket and cut the thorn\nout of the tiger's foot; but when he cut, the tiger roared louder than\never--so loud that his wife heard him in the next jungle, and came\nbounding along to see what was the matter. The tiger saw her coming,\nand hid the Prince in the jungle, so that she should not see him.\n\n\"What man hurt you that you roared so loud?\" said the wife.\n\n\"No one hurt me,\" answered the husband; \"but a Rajah's son came and\ntook the thorn out of my foot.\"\n\n\"Where is he? Show him to me,\" said his wife.\n\n\"If you promise not to kill him, I will call him,\" said the tiger.\n\n\"I won't kill him; only let me see him,\" answered his wife.\n\nThen the tiger called the Rajah's son, and when he came the tiger\nand his wife made him a great many salaams. Then they gave him a good\ndinner, and he stayed with them for three days. Every day he looked at\nthe tiger's foot, and the third day it was quite healed. Then he said\ngood-by to the tigers, and the tiger said to him, \"If ever you are in\ntrouble, think of me, and we will come to you.\"\n\nThe Rajah's son rode on and on till he came to a third jungle. Here\nhe found four fakeers whose teacher and master had died, and had left\nfour things,--a bed, which carried whoever sat on it whithersoever he\nwished to go; a bag, that gave its owner whatever he wanted, jewels,\nfood or clothes; a stone bowl that gave its owner as much water as\nhe wanted, no matter how far he might be from a tank; and a stick and\nrope, to which its owner had only to say, if any one came to make war\non him, \"Stick, beat as many men and soldiers as are here,\" and the\nstick would beat them and the rope would tie them up.\n\nThe four fakeers were quarreling over these four things. One said, \"I\nwant this;\" another said, \"You cannot have it, for I want it;\" and so\non.\n\nThe Rajah's son said to them, \"Do not quarrel for these things. I will\nshoot four arrows in four different directions. Whichever of you gets\nto my first arrow, shall have the first thing--the bed. Whosoever gets\nto the second arrow, shall have the second thing--the bag. He who gets\nto the third arrow, shall have the third thing--the bowl. And he who\ngets to the fourth arrow, shall have the last things--the stick and\nrope.\" To this they agreed. And the Prince shot off his first arrow.\nAway raced the fakeers to get it. When they brought it back to him he\nshot off the second, and when they had found and brought it to him he\nshot off his third, and when they had brought him the third he shot\noff the fourth.\n\nWhile they were away looking for the fourth arrow the Rajah's son let\nhis horse loose in the jungle and sat on the bed, taking the bowl, the\nstick and rope, and the bag with him. Then he said, \"Bed, I wish to\ngo to the Princess Labam's country.\" The little bed instantly rose up\ninto the air and began to fly, and it flew and flew till it came to\nthe Princess Labam's country, where it settled on the ground. The\nRajah's son asked some men he saw, \"Whose country is this?\"\n\n\"The Princess Labam's country,\" they answered. Then the Prince went on\ntill he came to a house where he saw an old woman.\n\n\"Who are you?\" she said. \"Where do you come from?\"\n\n\"I come from a far country,\" he said; \"do let me stay with you\nto-night.\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered, \"I cannot let you stay with me; for our King has\nordered that men from other countries may not stay in his country. You\ncannot stay in my house.\"\n\n\"You are my aunty,\" said the Prince; \"let me remain with you for this\none night. You see it is evening, and if I go into the jungle, then\nthe wild beasts will eat me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said that old woman, \"you may stay here to-night; but\nto-morrow morning you must go away, for if the King hears you have\npassed the night in my house, he will have me seized and put into\nprison.\"\n\nThen she took him into her house, and the Rajah's son was very glad.\nThe old woman began preparing dinner, but he stopped her. \"Aunty,\" he\nsaid, \"I will give you food.\" He put his hand into his bag, saying,\n\"Bag, I want some dinner,\" and the bag gave him instantly a delicious\ndinner, served up on two gold plates. The old woman and the Rajah's\nson then dined together.\n\nWhen they had finished eating, the old woman said, \"Now I will fetch\nsome water.\"\n\n\"Don't go,\" said the Prince. \"You shall have plenty of water\ndirectly.\" So he took his bowl and said to it, \"Bowl, I want some\nwater,\" and then it filled with water. When it was full, the Prince\ncried out, \"Stop, bowl!\" and the bowl stopped filling. \"See, aunty,\"\nhe said, \"with this bowl I can always get as much water as I want.\"\n\nBy this time night had come. \"Aunty,\" said the Rajah's son, \"why don't\nyou light a lamp?\"\n\n\"There is no need,\" she said. \"Our king has forbidden the people\nin his country to light any lamps; for, as soon as it is dark, his\ndaughter, the Princess Labam, comes and sits on her roof, and she\nshines so that she lights up all the country and our houses, and we\ncan see to do our work as if it were day.\"\n\nWhen it was quite black night the Princess got up. She dressed herself\nin her rich clothes and jewels, and rolled up her hair, and across her\nhead she put a band of diamonds and pearls. Then she shone like the\nmoon and her beauty made night day. She came out of her room and sat\non the roof of her palace. In the daytime she never came out of her\nhouse; she only came out at night. All the people in her father's\ncountry then went about their work and finished it.\n\nThe Rajah's son, watched the Princess quietly, and was very happy. He\nsaid to himself, \"How lovely she is!\"\n\nAt midnight, when everybody had gone to bed, the Princess came down\nfrom her roof and went to her room; and when she was in bed and\nasleep, the Rajah's son got up softly and sat on his bed. \"Bed,\" he\nsaid to it, \"I want to go to the Princess Labam's bed-room.\" So the\nlittle bed carried him to the room where she lay fast asleep.\n\nThe young Rajah took his bag and said, \"I want a great deal of\nbetel-leaf,\" and it at once gave him quantities of betel-leaf. This he\nlaid near the Princess's bed, and then his little bed carried him back\nto the old woman's house.\n\nNext morning all the Princess's servants found the betel-leaf, and\nbegan to eat it. \"Where did you get all that betel-leaf?\" asked the\nPrincess.\n\n\"We found it near your bed,\" answered the servants. Nobody knew the\nPrince had come in the night and put it all there.\n\nIn the morning the old woman came to the Rajah's son. \"Now it is\nmorning,\" she said, \"and you must go; for if the King finds out all I\nhave done for you, he will seize me.\"\n\n\"I am ill to-day, dear aunty,\" said the Prince; \"do let me stay till\nto-morrow morning.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said the old woman. So he stayed, and they took their dinner\nout of the bag, and the bowl gave them water.\n\n[Illustration: THE PRINCESS LABAM ... SHINES SO THAT SHE LIGHTS UP ALL\nTHE COUNTRY.]\n\nWhen night came the Princess got up and sat on her roof, and at twelve\no'clock, when every one was in bed, she went to her bed-room, and was\nsoon fast asleep. Then the Rajah's son sat on his bed, and it carried\nhim to the Princess. He took his bag and said, \"Bag, I want a most\nlovely shawl.\" It gave him a splendid shawl, and he spread it over the\nPrincess as she lay asleep. Then he went back to the old woman's house\nand slept till morning.\n\nIn the morning, when the Princess saw the shawl she was delighted.\n\"See, mother,\" she said; \"Khuda must have given me this shawl, it is\nso beautiful.\" Her mother was very glad too.\n\n\"Yes, my child,\" she said; \"Khuda must have given you this splendid\nshawl.\"\n\nWhen it was morning the old woman said to the Rajah's son, \"Now you\nmust really go.\"\n\n\"Aunty,\" he answered, \"I am not well enough yet. Let me stay a few\ndays longer. I will remain hidden in your house, so that no one may\nsee me.\" So the old woman let him stay.\n\nWhen it was black night, the Princess put on her lovely clothes and\njewels and sat on her roof. At midnight she went to her room and\nwent to sleep. Then the Rajah's son sat on his bed and flew to\nher bed-room. There he said to his bag, \"Bag, I want a very, very\nbeautiful ring.\" The bag gave him a glorious ring. Then he took the\nPrincess Labam's hand gently to put on the ring, and she started up\nvery much frightened.\n\n\"Who are you?\" she said to the Prince. \"Where do you come from? Why do\nyou come to my room?\"\n\n\"Do not be afraid, Princess,\" he said; \"I am no thief. I am a great\nRajah's son. Hiraman parrot, who lives in the jungle where I went to\nhunt, told me your name, and then I left my father and mother and came\nto see you.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the Princess, \"as you are the son of such a great Rajah,\nI will not have you killed, and I will tell my father and mother that\nI wish to marry you.\"\n\nThe Prince then returned to the old woman's house; and when morning\ncame the Princess said to her mother, \"The son of a great Rajah has\ncome to this country, and I wish to marry him.\" Her mother told this\nto the King.\n\n\"Good,\" said the King; \"but if this Rajah's son wishes to marry my\ndaughter, he must first do whatever I bid him. If he fails I will kill\nhim. I will give him eighty pounds weight of mustard seed, and out of\nthis he must crush the oil in one day. If he cannot do this he shall\ndie.\"\n\nIn the morning the Rajah's son told the old woman that he intended\nto marry the Princess. \"Oh,\" said the old woman, \"go away from this\ncountry, and do not think of marrying her. A great many Rajahs and\nRajahs' sons have come here to marry her, and her father has had them\nall killed. He says whoever wishes to marry his daughter must first do\nwhatever he bids him. If he can, then he shall marry the Princess; if\nhe cannot, the King will have him killed. But no one can do the things\nthe King tells him to do; so all the Rajahs and Rajahs' sons who have\ntried have been put to death. You will be killed too, if you try. Do\ngo away.\" But the Prince would not listen to anything she said.\n\nThe King sent for the Prince to the old woman's house, and his\nservants brought the Rajah's son to the King's court-house to the\nKing. There the King gave him eighty pounds of mustard seed, and told\nhim to crush all the oil out of it that day, and bring it next morning\nto him to the court-house. \"Whoever wishes to marry my daughter,\" he\nsaid to the Prince, \"must first do all I tell him. If he cannot, then\nI have him killed. So if you cannot crush all the oil out of this\nmustard seed you will die.\"\n\nThe Prince was very sorry when he heard this. \"How can I crush the oil\nout of all this mustard seed in one day?\" he said to himself; \"and if\nI do not, the King will kill me.\" He took the mustard seed to the old\nwoman's house, and did not know what to do. At last he remembered the\nAnt-Rajah, and the moment he did so, the Ant-Rajah and his ants came\nto him. \"Why do you look so sad?\" said the Ant-Rajah.\n\nThe Prince showed him the mustard seed, and said to him, \"How can I\ncrush the oil out of all this mustard seed in one day? And if I do not\ntake the oil to the King to-morrow morning, he will kill me.\"\n\n\"Be happy,\" said the Ant-Rajah; \"lie down and sleep; we will crush all\nthe oil out for you during the day, and to-morrow morning you shall\ntake it to the King.\" The Rajah's son lay down and slept, and the ants\ncrushed out the oil for him. The Prince was very glad when he saw the\noil.\n\nThe next morning he took it to the court-house to the King. But the\nKing said, \"You cannot yet marry my daughter. If you wish to do so,\nyou must fight with my two demons, and kill them.\" The King a long\ntime ago had caught two demons, and then, as he did not know what to\ndo with them, he had shut them up in a cage. He was afraid to let them\nloose for fear they would eat up all the people in his country; and he\ndid not know how to kill them. So all the Rajahs and Rajahs' sons who\nwanted to marry the Princess Labam had to fight with these demons;\n\"for,\" said the King to himself, \"perhaps the demons may be killed,\nand then I shall be rid of them.\"\n\nWhen he heard of the demons the Rajah's son was very sad. \"What can I\ndo?\" he said to himself. \"How can I fight with these two demons?\" Then\nhe thought of his tiger: and the tiger and his wife came to him and\nsaid, \"Why are you so sad?\" The Rajah's son answered, \"The King has\nordered me to fight with his two demons and kill them. How can I do\nthis?\" \"Do not be frightened,\" said the tiger. \"Be happy. I and my\nwife will fight with them for you.\"\n\nThen the Rajah's son took out of his bag two splendid coats. They were\nall gold and silver, and covered with pearls and diamonds. These he\nput on the tigers to make them beautiful, and he took them to the\nKing, and said to him, \"May these tigers fight your demons for me?\"\n\"Yes,\" said the King, who did not care in the least who killed his\ndemons, provided they were killed. \"Then call your demons,\" said the\nRajah's son, \"and these tigers will fight them.\" The King did so,\nand the tigers and the demons fought and fought until the tigers had\nkilled the demons.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the King. \"But you must do something else before\nI give you my daughter. Up in the sky I have a kettle-drum. You must\ngo and beat it. If you cannot do this, I will kill you.\"\n\nThe Rajah's son thought of his little bed; so he went to the old\nwoman's house and sat on his bed. \"Little bed,\" he said, \"up in the\nsky is the King's kettle-drum. I want to go to it.\" The bed flew up\nwith him, and the Rajah's son beat the drum, and the King heard him.\nStill, when he came down, the King would not give him his daughter.\n\"You have,\" he said to the Prince, \"done the three things I told you\nto do; but you must do one thing more.\" \"If I can, I will,\" said the\nRajah's son.\n\nThen the King showed him the trunk of a tree that was lying near his\ncourt-house. It was a very, very thick trunk. He gave the Prince a wax\nhatchet, and said, \"To-morrow morning you must cut this trunk in two\nwith this wax hatchet.\"\n\nThe Rajah's son went back to the old woman's house. He was very sad,\nand thought that now the Rajah would certainly kill him. \"I had his\noil crushed out by the ants,\" he said to himself. \"I had his demons\nkilled by the tigers. My bed helped to beat this kettle-drum. But now\nwhat can I do? How can I cut that thick tree-trunk in two with a wax\nhatchet?\"\n\nAt night he went on his bed to see the Princess. \"To-morrow,\" he said\nto her, \"your father will kill me.\" \"Why?\" asked the Princess.\n\n\"He has told me to cut a thick tree-trunk in two with a wax hatchet.\nHow can I ever do that?\" said the Rajah's son. \"Do not be afraid,\"\nsaid the Princess; \"do as I bid you, and you will cut it in two quite\neasily.\"\n\nThen she pulled out a hair from her head and gave it to the Prince.\n\"To-morrow,\" she said, \"when no one is near you, you must say to the\ntree-trunk, 'The Princess Labam commands you to let yourself be cut\nin two by this hair.' Then stretch the hair down the edge of the wax\nhatchet's blade.\"\n\nThe Prince next day did exactly as the Princess had told him; and the\nminute the hair that was stretched down the edge of the hatchet blade\ntouched the tree-trunk it split into two pieces.\n\nThe King said, \"Now you can marry my daughter.\" Then the wedding took\nplace. All the Rajahs and Kings of the countries round were asked\nto come to it, and there were great rejoicings. After a few days the\nbridegroom said to his bride \"Let us go to my father's country.\" The\nPrincess Labam's father gave them a quantity of camels and horses and\nrupees and servants; and they traveled in great state to the distant\ncountry, where they lived happily.\n\nThe prince always kept his bag, bowl, bed, stick and rope; only, as no\none ever came to make war on him, he never needed to use the stick or\nrope.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF JAPAN\n\n\n\n\nTHE JELLYFISH AND THE MONKEY\n\nADAPTED BY YEI THEODORA OZAKI\n\n\nLong, long ago, in old Japan, the Kingdom of the Sea was governed by a\nwonderful King. He was called Rin Jin, or the Dragon King of the Sea.\nHis power was immense, for he was the ruler of all sea creatures both\ngreat and small, and in his keeping were the Jewels of the Ebb and\nFlow of the Tide. The Jewel of the Ebbing Tide when thrown into the\nocean caused the sea to recede from the land, and the Jewel of the\nFlowing Tide made the waves to rise mountains high and to flow in upon\nthe shore like a tidal wave.\n\nThe palace of Rin Jin was at the bottom of the sea, and was so\nbeautiful that no one has ever seen anything like it even in dreams.\nThe walls were of coral, the roof of jadestone and chalcedony, and\nthe floors were of the finest mother-of-pearl. But the Dragon King, in\nspite of his wide-spreading kingdom, his beautiful palace and all its\nwonders, and his power, which none disputed throughout the whole sea,\nwas not at all happy, for he reigned alone. At last he thought that if\nhe married he would not only be happier, but also more powerful. So\nhe decided to take a wife. Calling all his fish retainers together,\nhe chose several of them as ambassadors to go through the sea and seek\nfor a young Dragon Princess who would be his bride.\n\nAt last they returned to the palace bringing with them a lovely young\ndragon. Her scales were of a glittering green like the wings of summer\nbeetles, her eyes threw out glances of fire, and she was dressed in\ngorgeous robes. All the jewels of the sea worked in with embroidery\nadorned them.\n\nThe King fell in love with her at once, and the wedding ceremony was\ncelebrated with great splendor. Every living thing in the sea, from\nthe great whales down to the little shrimps, came in shoals to offer\ntheir congratulations to the bride and bridegroom and to wish them a\nlong and prosperous life. Never had there been such an assemblage or\nsuch gay festivities in the Fish-World before. The train of bearers\nwho carried the bride's possessions to her new home seemed to reach\nacross the waves from one end of the sea to the other. Each fish\ncarried a phosphorescent lantern and was dressed in ceremonial robes,\ngleaming blue and pink and silver; and the waves as they rose and fell\nand broke that night seemed to be rolling masses of white and green\nfire, for the phosphorus shone with double brilliancy in honor of the\nevent.\n\nNow for a time the Dragon King and his bride lived very happily. They\nloved each other dearly, and the bridegroom day after day took delight\nin showing his bride all the wonders and treasures of his coral\npalace, and she was never tired of wandering with him through its vast\nhalls and gardens. Life seemed to them both like a long summer's day.\n\nTwo months passed in this happy way, and then the Dragon Queen fell\nill and was obliged to stay in bed. The King was sorely troubled when\nhe saw his precious bride so ill, and at once sent for the fish doctor\nto come and give her some medicine. He gave special orders to the\nservants to nurse her carefully and to wait upon her with diligence,\nbut in spite of all the nurses' assiduous care and the medicine that\nthe doctor prescribed, the young Queen showed no signs of recovery,\nbut grew daily worse.\n\nThen the Dragon King interviewed the doctor and blamed him for\nnot curing the Queen. The doctor was alarmed at Rin Jin's evident\ndispleasure, and excused his want of skill by saying that although he\nknew the right kind of medicine to give the invalid, it was impossible\nto find it in the sea.\n\n\"Do you mean to tell me that you can't get the medicine here?\" asked\nthe Dragon King.\n\n\"It is just as you say!\" said the doctor.\n\n\"Tell me what it is you want for the Queen?\" demanded Rin Jin.\n\n\"I want the liver of a live monkey!\" answered the doctor.\n\n\"The liver of a live monkey! Of course that will be most difficult to\nget,\" said the King.\n\n\"If we could only get that for the Queen, her Majesty would soon\nrecover,\" said the doctor.\n\n\"Very well, that decides it; we _must_ get it somehow or other. But\nwhere are we most likely to find a monkey?\" asked the King.\n\nThen the doctor told the Dragon King that some distance to the south\nthere was a Monkey Island where a great many monkeys lived.\n\n\"If only you could capture one of those monkeys?\" said the doctor.\n\n\"How can any of my people capture a monkey?\" said the Dragon King,\ngreatly puzzled. \"The monkeys live on dry land, while we live in the\nwater; and out of our element we are quite powerless! I don't see what\nwe can do!\"\n\n\"That has been my difficulty too,\" said the doctor. \"But amongst your\ninnumerable servants, you surely can find one who can go on shore for\nthat express purpose!\"\n\n\"Something must be done,\" said the King, and calling his chief steward\nhe consulted him on the matter.\n\nThe chief steward thought for some time, and then, as if struck by a\nsudden thought, said joyfully:\n\n\"I know what we must do! There is the _kurage_ (jellyfish). He is\ncertainly ugly to look at, but he is proud of being able to walk on\nland with his four legs like a tortoise. Let us send him to the Island\nof Monkeys to catch one.\"\n\nThe jellyfish was then summoned to the King's presence, and was told\nby his Majesty what was required of him.\n\nThe jellyfish, on being told of the unexpected mission which was to\nbe entrusted to him, looked very troubled, and said that he had never\nbeen to the island in question, and as he had never had any experience\nin catching monkeys he was afraid that he would not be able to get\none.\n\n\"Well,\" said the chief steward, \"if you depend on your strength or\ndexterity you will never catch a monkey. The only way is to play a\ntrick on one!\"\n\n\"How can I play a trick on a monkey? I don't know how to do it,\" said\nthe perplexed jellyfish.\n\n\"This is what you must do,\" said the wily chief steward. \"When you\napproach the Island of Monkeys and meet some of them, you must try\nto get very friendly with one. Tell him that you are a servant of the\nDragon King, and invite him to come and visit you and see the Dragon\nKing's palace. Try and describe to him as vividly as you can the\ngrandeur of the palace and the wonders of the sea so as to arouse his\ncuriosity and make him long to see it all!\"\n\n\"But how am I to get the monkey here? You know monkeys don't swim!\"\nsaid the reluctant jellyfish.\n\n\"You must carry him on your back. What is the use of your shell if you\ncan't do that!\" said the chief steward.\n\n\"Won't he be very heavy?\" queried _kurage_ again.\n\n\"You mustn't mind that, for you are working for the Dragon King!\"\nreplied the chief steward.\n\n\"I will do my best then,\" said the jellyfish, and he swam away from\nthe palace and started off towards the Monkey Island. Swimming\nswiftly he reached his destination in a few hours, and was landed by a\nconvenient wave upon the shore. On looking round he saw not far away a\nbig pine-tree with drooping branches and on one of those branches was\njust what he was looking for--a live monkey.\n\n\"I'm in luck!\" thought the jellyfish. \"Now I must flatter the creature\nand try to entice him to come back with me to the palace, and my part\nwill be done!\"\n\nSo the jellyfish slowly walked towards the pine-tree. In those ancient\ndays the jellyfish had four legs and a hard shell like a tortoise.\nWhen he got to the pine-tree he raised his voice and said:\n\n\"How do you do, Mr. Monkey? Isn't it a lovely day?\"\n\n\"A very fine day,\" answered the monkey from the tree. \"I have never\nseen you in this part of the world before. Where have you come from\nand what is your name?\"\n\n\"My name is _kurage_ or jellyfish. I am one of the servants of the\nDragon King. I have heard so much of your beautiful island that I have\ncome on purpose to see it,\" answered the jellyfish.\n\n\"I am very glad to see you,\" said the monkey.\n\n\"By-the-bye,\" said the jellyfish, \"have you ever seen the palace of\nthe Dragon King of the Sea where I live?\"\n\n\"I have often heard of it, but I have never seen it!\" answered the\nmonkey.\n\n\"Then you ought most surely to come. It is a great pity for you to go\nthrough life without seeing it. The beauty of the palace is beyond all\ndescription--it is certainly to my mind the most lovely place in the\nworld,\" said the jellyfish.\n\n\"Is it so beautiful as all that?\" asked the monkey in astonishment.\n\nThen the jellyfish saw his chance, and went on describing to the best\nof his ability the beauty and grandeur of the Sea King's palace, and\nthe wonders of the garden with its curious trees of white, pink and\nred coral, and the still more curious fruits like great jewels hanging\non the branches. The monkey grew more and more interested, and as he\nlistened he came down the tree step by step so as not to lose a word\nof the wonderful story.\n\n\"I have got him at last!\" thought the jellyfish, but aloud he said:\n\n\"Mr. Monkey, I must now go back. As you have never seen the palace of\nthe Dragon King, won't you avail yourself of this splendid opportunity\nby coming with me? I shall then be able to act as guide and show you\nall the sights of the sea, which will be even more wonderful to you--a\nland-lubber.\"\n\n\"I should love to go,\" said the monkey, \"but how am I to cross the\nwater? I can't swim, as you surely know!\"\n\n\"There is no difficulty about that. I can carry you on my back.\"\n\n\"That will be troubling you too much,\" said the monkey.\n\n\"I can do it quite easily. I am stronger than I look, so you needn't\nhesitate,\" said the jellyfish, and taking the monkey on his back he\nstepped into the sea.\n\n\"Keep very still, Mr. Monkey,\" said the jellyfish. \"You mustn't fall\ninto the sea; I am responsible for your safe arrival at the King's\npalace.\"\n\n\"Please don't go so fast, or I am sure I shall fall off,\" said the\nmonkey.\n\nThus they went along, the jellyfish skimming through the waves with\nthe monkey sitting on his back. When they were about halfway, the\njellyfish, who knew very little of anatomy, began to wonder if the\nmonkey had his liver with him or not!\n\n\"Mr. Monkey, tell me, have you such a thing as a liver with you?\"\n\nThe monkey was very much surprised at this queer question, and asked\nwhat the jellyfish wanted with a liver.\n\n\"That is the most important thing of all,\" said the stupid jellyfish,\n\"so as soon as I recollected it, I asked you if you had yours with\nyou?\"\n\n\"Why is my liver so important to you?\" asked the monkey.\n\n\"Oh! you will learn the reason later,\" said the jellyfish.\n\nThe monkey grew more and more curious and suspicious, and urged the\njellyfish to tell him for what his liver was wanted, and ended up by\nappealing to his hearer's feelings by saying that he was very troubled\nat what he had been told.\n\nThen the jellyfish, seeing how anxious the monkey looked, was sorry\nfor him, and told everything. How the Dragon Queen had fallen ill,\nand how the doctor had said that only the liver of a live monkey would\ncure her, and how the Dragon King had sent him to find one.\n\n\"Now I have done as I was told, and as soon as we arrive at the palace\nthe doctor will want your liver, so I feel sorry for you!\" said the\nsilly jellyfish.\n\nThe poor monkey was horrified when he learnt all this, and very angry\nat the trick played upon him. He trembled with fear at the thought of\nwhat was in store for him.\n\nBut the monkey was a clever animal, and he thought it the wisest plan\nnot to show any sign of the fear he felt, so he tried to calm himself\nand to think of some way by which he might escape.\n\n\"The doctor means to cut me open and then take my liver out! Why I\nshall die!\" thought the monkey. At last a bright thought struck him,\nso he said quite cheerfully to the jellyfish:\n\n\"What a pity it was, Mr. Jellyfish, that you did not speak of this\nbefore we left the island!\"\n\n\"If I had told you why I wanted you to accompany me you would\ncertainly have refused to come,\" answered the jellyfish.\n\n\"You are quite mistaken,\" said the monkey. \"Monkeys can very well\nspare a liver or two, especially when it is wanted for the Dragon\nQueen of the Sea. If I had only guessed of what you were in need, I\nshould have presented you with one without waiting to be asked. I have\nseveral livers. But the greatest pity is, that as you did not speak in\ntime, I have left all my livers hanging on the pine-tree.\"\n\n\"Have you left your liver behind you?\" asked the jellyfish.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the cunning monkey, \"during the daytime I usually leave\nmy liver hanging up on the branch of a tree, as it is very much in the\nway when I am climbing about from tree to tree. To-day, listening to\nyour interesting conversation, I quite forgot it, and left it behind\nwhen I came off with you. If only you had spoken in time I should have\nremembered it, and should have brought it along with me!\"\n\nThe jellyfish was very disappointed when he heard this, for he\nbelieved every word the monkey said. The monkey was of no good without\na liver. Finally the jellyfish stopped and told the monkey so.\n\n\"Well,\" said the monkey, \"that is soon remedied. I am really sorry to\nthink of all your trouble; but if you will only take me back to the\nplace where you found me, I shall soon be able to get my liver.\"\n\nThe jellyfish did not at all like the idea of going all the way back\nto the island again; but the monkey assured him that if he would be so\nkind as to take him back he would get his very best liver, and bring\nit with him the next time. Thus persuaded, the jellyfish turned his\ncourse towards the Monkey Island once more.\n\nNo sooner had the jellyfish reached the shore than the sly monkey\nlanded, and getting up into the pine-tree where the jellyfish had\nfirst seen him, he cut several capers amongst the branches with joy at\nbeing safe home again, and then looking down at the jellyfish said:\n\n\"So many thanks for all the trouble you have taken! Please present my\ncompliments to the Dragon King on your return!\"\n\nThe jellyfish wondered at this speech and the mocking tone in which\nit was uttered. Then he asked the monkey if it wasn't his intention to\ncome with him at once after getting his liver.\n\nThe monkey replied laughingly that he couldn't afford to lose his\nliver; it was too precious.\n\n\"But remember your promise!\" pleaded the jellyfish, now very\ndiscouraged.\n\n\"That promise was false, and anyhow it is now broken!\" answered the\nmonkey. Then he began to jeer at the jellyfish and told him that he\nhad been deceiving him the whole time; that he had no wish to lose\nhis life, which he certainly would have done had he gone on to the Sea\nKing's Palace to the old doctor waiting for him, instead of persuading\nthe jellyfish to return under false pretences.\n\n\"Of course, I won't _give_ you my liver, but come and get it if you\ncan!\" added the monkey mockingly from the tree.\n\nThere was nothing for the jellyfish to do now but to repent of his\nstupidity, and return to the Dragon King of the Sea and confess his\nfailure, so he started sadly and slowly to swim back. The last thing\nhe heard as he glided away, leaving the island behind him, was the\nmonkey laughing at him.\n\nMeanwhile the Dragon King, the doctor, the chief steward, and all the\nservants were waiting impatiently for the return of the jellyfish.\nWhen they caught sight of him approaching the palace, they hailed him\nwith delight. They began to thank him profusely for all the trouble he\nhad taken in going to Monkey Island, and then they asked him where the\nmonkey was.\n\nNow the day of reckoning had come for the jellyfish. He quaked all\nover as he told his story. How he had brought the monkey half way over\nthe sea, and then had stupidly let out the secret of his commission;\nhow the monkey had deceived him by making him believe that he had left\nhis liver behind him.\n\nThe Dragon King's wrath was great, and he at once gave orders that the\njellyfish was to be severely punished. The punishment was a horrible\none. All the bones were to be drawn out from his living body, and he\nwas to be beaten with sticks.\n\nThe poor jellyfish, humiliated and horrified beyond all words, cried\nout for pardon. But the Dragon King's order had to be obeyed.\nThe servants of the palace forthwith each brought out a stick and\nsurrounded the jellyfish, and after pulling out his bones they beat\nhim to a flat pulp, and then took him out beyond the palace gates and\nthrew him into the water. Here he was left to suffer and repent\nhis foolish chattering, and to grow accustomed to his new state of\nbonelessness.\n\nFrom this story it is evident that in former times the jellyfish once\nhad a shell and bones something like a tortoise, but, ever since the\nDragon King's sentence was carried out on the ancestor of the jelly\nfishes, his descendants have all been soft and boneless just as you\nsee them to-day thrown up by the waves high upon the shores of Japan.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD MAN AND THE DEVILS\n\n\nA long time ago there was an old man who had a big lump on the right\nside of his face. One day he went into the mountain to cut wood, when\nthe rain began to pour and the wind to blow so very hard that, finding\nit impossible to return home, and filled with fear, he took refuge in\nthe hollow of an old tree. While sitting there doubled up and unable\nto sleep, he heard the confused sound of many voices in the distance\ngradually approaching to where he was. He said to himself: \"How\nstrange! I thought I was all alone in the mountain, but I hear the\nvoices of many people.\" So, taking courage, he peeped out, and saw a\ngreat crowd of strange-looking beings. Some were red, and dressed in\ngreen clothes; others were black, and dressed in red clothes; some had\nonly one eye; others had no mouth; indeed, it is quite impossible to\ndescribe their varied and strange looks. They kindled a fire, so that\nit became as light as day. They sat down in two cross-rows, and began\nto drink wine and make merry just like human beings. They passed the\nwine cup around so often that many of them soon drank too much. One of\nthe young devils got up and began to sing a merry song and to dance;\nso also many others; some danced well, others badly. One said: \"We\nhave had uncommon fun to-night, but I would like to see something\nnew.\"\n\nThen the old man, losing all fear, thought he would like to dance,\nand saying, \"Let come what will, if I die for it, I will have a dance,\ntoo,\" crept out of the hollow tree and, with his cap slipped over his\nnose and his ax sticking in his belt, began to dance. The devils\nin great surprise jumped up, saying, \"Who is this?\" but the old man\nadvancing and receding, swaying to and fro, and posturing this way and\nthat way, the whole crowd laughed and enjoyed the fun, saying: \"How\nwell the old man dances! You must always come and join us in our\nsport; but, for fear you might not come, you must give us a pledge\nthat you will.\" So the devils consulted together, and, agreeing that\nthe lump on his face, which was a token of wealth, was what he valued\nmost highly, demanded that it should be taken. The old man replied: \"I\nhave had this lump many years, and would not without good reason part\nwith it; but you may have it, or an eye, or my nose either if you\nwish.\" So the devils laid hold of it, twisting and pulling, and took\nit off without giving him any pain, and put it away as a pledge that\nhe would come back. Just then the day began to dawn, and the birds to\nsing, so the devils hurried away.\n\nThe old man felt his face and found it quite smooth, and not a trace\nof the lump left. He forgot all about cutting wood, and hastened home.\nHis wife, seeing him, exclaimed in great surprise, \"What has happened\nto you?\" So he told her all that had befallen him.\n\nNow, among the neighbors there was another old man who had a big lump\non the left side of his face. Hearing all about how the first old man\nhad got rid of his misfortune, he determined that he would also try\nthe same plan. So he went and crept into the hollow tree, and waited\nfor the devils to come. Sure enough, they came just as he was told,\nand they sat down, drank wine, and made merry just as they did before.\nThe second old man, afraid and trembling, crept out of the hollow\ntree. The devils welcomed him, saying: \"The old man has come; now let\nus see him dance.\" This old fellow was awkward, and did not dance as\nwell as the other, so the devils cried out: \"You dance badly, and are\ngetting worse and worse; we will give you back the lump which we took\nfrom you as a pledge.\" Upon this, one of the devils brought the lump,\nand stuck it on the other side of his face; so the poor old fellow\nreturned home with a lump on each side.\n\n\n\n\nAUTUMN AND SPRING\n\nADAPTED BY FRANK HINDER\n\n\nA fair maiden lay asleep in a rice field. The sun was at its height,\nand she was weary. Now a god looked down upon the rice field. He knew\nthat the beauty of the maiden came from within, that it mirrored the\nbeauty of heavenly dreams. He knew that even now, as she smiled, she\nheld converse with the spirit of the wind or the flowers.\n\nThe god descended and asked the dream-maiden to be his bride. She\nrejoiced, and they were wed. A wonderful red jewel came of their\nhappiness.\n\nLong, long afterwards, the stone was found by a farmer, who saw that\nit was a very rare jewel. He prized it highly, and always carried it\nabout with him. Sometimes, as he looked at it in the pale light of\nthe moon, it seemed to him that he could discern eyes in its depths.\nAgain, in the stillness of the night, he would awaken and think that a\nclear soft voice called him by name.\n\nOne day, the farmer had to carry the midday meal to his workers in\nthe field. The sun was very hot, so he loaded a cow with the bowls of\nrice, the millet dumplings, and the beans. Suddenly, Prince Ama-boko\nstood in the path. He was angry, for he thought that the farmer was\nabout to kill the cow. The Prince would hear no word of denial; his\nwrath increased. The farmer became more and more terrified, and,\nfinally, took the precious stone from his pocket and presented it as\na peace-offering to the powerful Prince. Ama-boko marveled at the\nbrilliancy of the jewel, and allowed the man to continue his journey.\n\nThe Prince returned to his home. He drew forth the treasure, and it\nwas immediately transformed into a goddess of surpassing beauty. Even\nas she rose before him, he loved her, and ere the moon waned they were\nwed. The goddess ministered to his every want. She prepared delicate\ndishes, the secret of which is known only to the gods. She made wine\nfrom the juice of a myriad herbs, wine such as mortals never taste.\n\nBut, after a time, the Prince became proud and overbearing. He began\nto treat his faithful wife with cruel contempt. The goddess was sad,\nand said: \"You are not worthy of my love. I will leave you and go\nto my father.\" Ama-boko paid no heed to these words, for he did not\nbelieve that the threat would be fulfilled. But the beautiful goddess\nwas in earnest. She escaped from the palace and fled to Naniwa, where\nshe is still honored as Akaru-hime, the Goddess of Light.\n\nNow the Prince was wroth when he heard that the goddess had left him,\nand set out in pursuit of her. But when he neared Naniwa, the gods\nwould not allow his vessel to enter the haven. Then he knew that\nhis priceless red jewel was lost to him forever. He steered his ship\ntowards the north coast of Japan, and landed at Tajima. Here he was\nwell received, and highly esteemed on account of the treasures which\nhe brought with him. He had costly strings of pearls, girdles of\nprecious stones, and a mirror which the wind and the waves obeyed.\nPrince Ama-boko remained at Tajima, and was the father of a mighty\nrace.\n\nAmong his children's children was a Princess so renowned for her\nbeauty that eighty suitors sought her hand. One after the other\nreturned sorrowfully home, for none found favor in her eyes. At last,\ntwo brothers came before her, the young God of the Autumn, and the\nyoung God of the Spring. The elder of the two, the God of Autumn,\nfirst urged his suit. But the Princess refused him. He went to his\nyounger brother and said, \"The Princess does not love me, neither will\nyou be able to win her heart.\"\n\nBut the Spring God was full of hope, and replied, \"I will give you a\ncask of rice wine if I do not win her, but if she consents to be my\nbride, you shall give a cask of _sake_ to me.\"\n\nNow the God of Spring went to his mother, and told her all. She\npromised to aid him. Thereupon she wove, in a single night, a robe and\nsandals from the unopened buds of the lilac and white wistaria. Out of\nthe same delicate flowers she fashioned a bow and arrows. Thus clad,\nthe God of Spring made his way to the beautiful Princess.\n\nAs he stepped before the maiden, every bud unfolded, and from the\nheart of each blossom came a fragrance that filled the air. The\nPrincess was overjoyed, and gave her hand to the God of Spring.\n\nThe elder brother, the God of Autumn, was filled with rage when he\nheard how his brother had obtained the wondrous robe. He refused to\ngive the promised cask of _sake_. When the mother learned that the\ngod had broken his word, she placed stones and salt in the hollow of\na bamboo cane, wrapped it round with bamboo leaves, and hung it in the\nsmoke. Then she uttered a curse upon her first-born: \"As the leaves\nwither and fade, so must you. As the salt sea ebbs, so must you. As\nthe stone sinks, so must you.\"\n\nThe terrible curse fell upon her son. While the God of Spring remains\never young, ever fragrant, ever full of mirth, the God of Autumn is\nold, and withered, and sad.\n\n\n\n\nTHE VISION OF TSUNU\n\nADAPTED BY FRANK RINDER\n\n\nWhen the five tall pine-trees on the windy heights of Mionoseki were\nbut tiny shoots, there lived in the Kingdom of the Islands a pious\nman. His home was in a remote hamlet surrounded by mountains and great\nforests of pine. Tsunu had a wife and sons and daughters. He was a\nwoodman, and his days were spent in the forest and on the hillsides.\nIn summer he was up at cock-crow, and worked patiently, in the soft\nlight under the pines, until nightfall. Then, with his burden of logs\nand branches, he went slowly homeward. After the evening meal, he\nwould tell some old story or legend. Tsunu was never weary of relating\nthe wondrous tales of the Land of the Gods. Best of all he loved to\nspeak of Fuji-yama, the mountain that stood so near his home.\n\nIn times gone by, there was no mountain where now the sacred peak\nreaches up to the sky; only a far-stretching plain bathed in sunlight\nall day. The peasants in the district were astonished, one morning,\nto behold a mighty hill where before had been the open plain. It had\nsprung up in a single night, while they slept. Flames and huge stones\nwere hurled from its summit; the peasants feared that the demons from\nthe under-world had come to wreak vengeance upon them. But for many\ngenerations there have been peace and silence on the heights. The good\nSun-Goddess loves Fuji-yama. Every evening she lingers on his summit,\nand when at last she leaves him, his lofty crest is bathed in soft\npurple light. In the evening the Matchless Mountain seems to rise\nhigher and higher into the skies, until no mortal can tell the place\nof his rest. Golden clouds enfold Fuji-yama in the early morning.\nPilgrims come from far and near, to gain blessing and health for\nthemselves and their families from the sacred mountain.\n\nOn the self-same night that Fuji-yama rose out of the earth, a strange\nthing happened in the mountainous district near Kyoto. The inhabitants\nwere awakened by a terrible roar, which continued throughout the\nnight. In the morning every mountain had disappeared; not one of the\nhills that they loved was to be seen. A blue lake lay before them. It\nwas none other than the lute-shaped Lake Biwa. The mountains had, in\ntruth, traveled under the earth for more than a hundred miles, and now\nform the sacred Fuji-yama.\n\nAs Tsunu stepped out of his hut in the morning, his eyes sought the\nMountain of the Gods. He saw the golden clouds, and the beautiful\nstory was in his mind as he went to his work.\n\nOne day the woodman wandered farther than usual into the forest. At\nnoon he was in a very lonely spot. The air was soft and sweet, the sky\nso blue that he looked long at it, and then took a deep breath. Tsunu\nwas happy.\n\nNow his eye fell on a little fox who watched him curiously from the\nbushes. The creature ran away when it saw that the man's attention had\nbeen attracted. Tsunu thought, \"I will follow the little fox and see\nwhere she goes.\" Off he started in pursuit. He soon came to a bamboo\nthicket. The smooth, slender stems waved dreamily, the pale green\nleaves still sparkled with the morning dew. But it was not this which\ncaused the woodman to stand spellbound. On a plot of mossy grass\nbeyond the thicket, sat two maidens of surpassing beauty. They were\npartly shaded by the waving bamboos, but their faces were lit up by\nthe sunlight. Not a word came from their lips, yet Tsunu knew that\nthe voices of both must be sweet as the cooing of the wild dove. The\nmaidens were graceful as the slender willow, they were fair as the\nblossom of the cherry-tree. Slowly they moved the chessmen which\nlay before them on the grass. Tsunu hardly dared to breathe, lest he\nshould disturb them. The breeze caught their long hair, the sunlight\nplayed upon it.... The sun still shone.... The chessmen were still\nslowly moved to and fro.... The woodman gazed enraptured.\n\n\"But now,\" thought Tsunu, \"I must return, and tell those at home of\nthe beautiful maidens.\" Alas, his knees were stiff and weak. \"Surely\nI have stood here for many hours,\" he said. He leaned for support upon\nhis axe; it crumbled into dust. Looking down he saw that a flowing\nwhite beard hung from his chin.\n\nFor many hours the poor woodman tried in vain to reach his home.\nFatigued and wearied, he came at last to a hut. But all was changed.\nStrange faces peered curiously at him. The speech of the people was\nunfamiliar. \"Where are my wife and my children?\" he cried. But no one\nknew his name.\n\nFinally, the poor woodman came to understand that seven generations\nhad passed since he bade farewell to his dear ones in the early\nmorning. While he had gazed at the beautiful maidens, his wife, his\nchildren, and his children's children had lived and died.\n\nThe few remaining years of Tsunu's life were spent as a pious pilgrim\nto Fuji-yama, his well-loved mountain.\n\nSince his death he has been honored as a saint who brings prosperity\nto the people of his native country.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STAR-LOVERS\n\nADAPTED BY FRANK RINDER\n\n\nShokujo, daughter of the Sun, dwelt with her father on the banks of\nthe Silver River of Heaven, which we call the Milky Way. She was a\nlovely maiden, graceful and winsome, and her eyes were tender as the\neyes of a dove. Her loving father, the Sun, was much troubled because\nShokujo did not share in the youthful pleasures of the daughters of\nthe air. A soft melancholy seemed to brood over her, but she never\nwearied of working for the good of others, and especially did she\nbusy herself at her loom; indeed she came to be called the Weaving\nPrincess.\n\nThe Sun bethought him that if he could give his daughter in marriage,\nall would be well; her dormant love would be kindled into a flame that\nwould illumine her whole being and drive out the pensive spirit which\noppressed her. Now there lived, hard by, a right honest herdsman,\nnamed Kingen, who tended his cows on the borders of the Heavenly\nStream. The Sun-King proposed to bestow his daughter on Kingen,\nthinking in this way to provide for her happiness and at the same time\nkeep her near him. Every star beamed approval, and there was joy in\nthe heavens.\n\nThe love that bound Shokujo and Kingen to one another was a great\nlove. With its awakening, Shokujo forsook her former occupations, nor\ndid she any longer labor industriously at the loom, but laughed, and\ndanced, and sang, and made merry from morn till night. The Sun-King\nwas sorely grieved, for he had not foreseen so great a change. Anger\nwas in his eyes, and he said, \"Kingen is surely the cause of this,\ntherefore I will banish him to the other side of the River of Stars.\"\n\nWhen Shokujo and Kingen heard that they were to be parted, and could\nthenceforth, in accordance with the King's decree, meet but once a\nyear, and that upon the seventh night of the seventh month, their\nhearts were heavy. The leave-taking between them was a sad one,\nand great tears stood in Shokujo's eyes as she bade farewell to her\nlover-husband. In answer to the behest of the Sun-King, myriads of\nmagpies flocked together, and, outspreading their wings, formed a\nbridge on which Kingen crossed the River of Heaven. The moment that\nhis foot touched the opposite bank, the birds dispersed with noisy\nchatter, leaving poor Kingen a solitary exile. He looked wistfully\ntowards the weeping figure of Shokujo, who stood on the threshold of\nher now desolate home.\n\nLong and weary were the succeeding days, spent as they were by Kingen\nin guiding his oxen and by Shokujo in plying her shuttle. The Sun-King\nwas gladdened by his daughter's industry. When night fell and the\nheavens were bright with countless lights, the lovers were wont,\nstanding on the banks of the celestial stream, to waft across it sweet\nand tender messages, while each uttered a prayer for the speedy coming\nof the wondrous night.\n\nThe long-hoped-for month and day drew nigh, and the hearts of the\nlovers were troubled lest rain should fall; for the Silver River, full\nat all times, is at that season often in flood, and the bird-bridge\nmight be swept away.\n\nThe day broke cloudlessly bright. It waxed and waned, and one by one\nthe lamps of heaven were lighted. At nightfall the magpies assembled,\nand Shokujo, quivering with delight, crossed the slender bridge and\nfell into the arms of her lover. Their transport of joy was as the joy\nof the parched flower, when the raindrop falls upon it; but the moment\nof parting soon came, and Shokujo sorrowfully retraced her steps.\n\nYear follows year, and the lovers still meet in that far-off land on\nthe seventh night of the seventh month, save when rain has swelled\nthe Silver River and rendered the crossing impossible. The hope of a\npermanent reunion still fills the hearts of the Star-Lovers, and is to\nthem as a sweet fragrance and a beautiful vision.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF THE SLAVS\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO BROTHERS\n\nADAPTED BY ALEXANDER CHODSKO\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were two brothers whose father had left them\nbut a small fortune. The eldest grew very rich, but at the same time\ncruel and wicked, whereas there was nowhere a more honest or kinder\nman than the younger. But he remained poor, and had many children, so\nthat at times they could scarcely get bread to eat. At last, one day\nthere was not even this in the house, so he went to his rich brother\nand asked him for a loaf of bread. Waste of time! His rich brother\nonly called him beggar and vagabond, and slammed the door in his face.\n\nThe poor fellow, after this brutal reception, did not know which way\nto turn. Hungry, scantily clad, shivering with cold, his legs could\nscarcely carry him along. He had not the heart to go home, with\nnothing for the children, so he went towards the mountain forest. But\nall he found there were some wild pears that had fallen to the ground.\nHe had to content himself with eating these, though they set his teeth\non edge. But what was he to do to warm himself, for the east wind with\nits chill blast pierced him through and through. \"Where shall I go?\"\nhe said; \"what will become of us in the cottage? There is neither food\nnor fire, and my brother has driven me from his door.\" It was just\nthen he remembered having heard that the top of the mountain in front\nof him was made of crystal, and had a fire forever burning upon it. \"I\nwill try and find it,\" he said, \"and then I may be able to warm myself\na little.\" So he went on climbing higher and higher till he reached\nthe top, when he was startled to see twelve strange beings sitting\nround a huge fire. He stopped for a moment, but then said to himself,\n\"What have I to lose? Why should I fear? God is with me. Courage!\"\n\nSo he advanced towards the fire, and bowing respectfully, said: \"Good\npeople, take pity on my distress. I am very poor, no one cares for me,\nI have not even a fire in my cottage; will you let me warm myself at\nyours?\" They all looked kindly at him, and one of them said: \"My son,\ncome sit down with us and warm yourself.\"\n\nSo he sat down, and felt warm directly he was near them. But he dared\nnot speak while they were silent. What astonished him most was that\nthey changed seats one after another, and in such a way that each one\npassed round the fire and came back to his own place. When he drew\nnear the fire an old man with long white beard and bald head arose\nfrom the flames and spoke to him thus:\n\n\"Man, waste not thy life here; return to thy cottage, work, and live\nhonestly. Take as many embers as thou wilt, we have more than we\nneed.\"\n\nAnd having said this he disappeared. Then the twelve filled a large\nsack with embers, and, putting it on the poor man's shoulders, advised\nhim to hasten home.\n\nHumbly thanking them, he set off. As he went he wondered why the\nembers did not feel hot, and why they should weigh no more than a sack\nof paper. He was thankful that he should be able to have a fire, but\nimagine his astonishment when on arriving home he found the sack to\ncontain as many gold pieces as there had been embers; he almost went\nout of his mind with joy at the possession of so much money. With all\nhis heart he thanked those who had been so ready to help him in his\nneed.\n\nHe was now rich, and rejoiced to be able to provide for his family.\nBeing curious to find out how many gold pieces there were, and not\nknowing how to count, he sent his wife to his rich brother for the\nloan of a quart measure.\n\nThis time the brother was in a better temper, so he lent what was\nasked of him, but said mockingly, \"What can such beggars as you have\nto measure?\"\n\nThe wife replied, \"Our neighbor owes us some wheat; we want to be sure\nhe returns us the right quantity.\"\n\nThe rich brother was puzzled, and suspecting something he, unknown\nto his sister-in-law, put some grease inside the measure. The trick\nsucceeded, for on getting it back he found a piece of gold sticking\nto it. Filled with astonishment, he could only suppose his brother had\njoined a band of robbers: so he hurried to his brother's cottage, and\nthreatened to bring him before the justice of the peace if he did\nnot confess where the gold came from. The poor man was troubled, and,\ndreading to offend his brother, told the story of his journey to the\nCrystal Mountain.\n\nNow the elder brother had plenty of money for himself, yet he was\nenvious of the brother's good fortune, and became greatly displeased\nwhen he found that his brother won every one's esteem by the good use\nhe made of his wealth. At last, he too determined to visit the Crystal\nMountain.\n\n\"I may meet with as good luck as my brother,\" said he to himself.\n\nUpon reaching the Crystal Mountain he found the twelve seated round\nthe fire as before, and thus addressed them:\n\n\"I beg of you, good people, to let me warm myself, for it is bitterly\ncold, and I am poor and homeless.\"\n\nBut one of them replied: \"My son, the hour of thy birth was favorable;\nthou art rich, but a miser; thou art wicked, for thou hast dared to\nlie to us. Well dost thou deserve thy punishment.\"\n\nAmazed and terrified he stood silent, not daring to speak. Meanwhile\nthe twelve changed places one after another, each at last returning\nto his own seat. Then from the midst of the flames arose the\nwhite-bearded old man and spoke thus sternly to the rich man:\n\n\"Woe unto the willful! Thy brother is virtuous, therefore have I\nblessed him. As for thee, thou are wicked, and so shalt not escape our\nvengeance.\"\n\nAt these words the twelve arose. The first seized the unfortunate man,\nstruck him, and passed him on to the second; the second also struck\nhim and passed him on to the third; and so did they all in their turn,\nuntil he was given up to the old man, who disappeared with him into\nthe fire.\n\nDays, weeks, months went by, but the rich man never returned, and none\nknew what had become of him. I think, between you and me, the younger\nbrother had his suspicions but he very wisely kept them to himself.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWELVE MONTHS\n\nADAPTED BY ALEXANDER CHODSKO\n\n\nThere was once a widow who had two daughters, Helen, her own child by\nher dead husband, and Marouckla, his daughter by his first wife. She\nloved Helen, but hated the poor orphan, because she was far prettier\nthan her own daughter. Marouckla did not think about her good looks,\nand could not understand why her stepmother should be angry at the\nsight of her. The hardest work fell to her share; she cleaned out the\nrooms, cooked, washed, sewed, spun, wove, brought in the hay, milked\nthe cow, and all this without any help. Helen, meanwhile, did nothing\nbut dress herself in her best clothes and go to one amusement after\nanother. But Marouckla never complained; she bore the scoldings and\nbad temper of mother and sister with a smile on her lips, and the\npatience of a lamb. But this angelic behavior did not soften them.\nThey became even more tyrannical and grumpy, for Marouckla grew daily\nmore beautiful while Helen's ugliness increased. So the stepmother\ndetermined to get rid of Marouckla, for she knew that while she\nremained her own daughter would have no suitors. Hunger, every kind\nof privation, abuse, every means was used to make the girl's life\nmiserable. The most wicked of men could not have been more mercilessly\ncruel than these two vixens. But in spite of it all Marouckla grew\never sweeter and more charming.\n\nOne day in the middle of winter Helen wanted some wood-violets.\n\n\"Listen,\" cried she to Marouckla; \"you must go up the mountain and\nfind me some violets, I want some to put in my gown; they must be\nfresh and sweet-scented--do you hear?\"\n\n\"But, my dear sister, who ever heard of violets blooming in the snow?\"\nsaid the poor orphan.\n\n\"You wretched creature! Do you dare to disobey me?\" said Helen. \"Not\nanother word; off with you. If you do not bring me some violets from\nthe mountain forest, I will kill you.\"\n\nThe stepmother also added her threats to those of Helen, and with\nvigorous blows they pushed Marouckla outside and shut the door upon\nher. The weeping girl made her way to the mountain. The snow lay deep,\nand there was no trace of any human being. Long she wandered hither\nand thither, and lost herself in the wood. She was hungry, and\nshivered with cold, and prayed to die. Suddenly she saw a light in\nthe distance, and climbed towards it, till she reached the top of\nthe mountain. Upon the highest peak burnt a large fire, surrounded by\ntwelve blocks of stone, on which sat twelve strange beings. Of these\nthe first three had white hair, three were not quite so old, three\nwere young and handsome, and the rest still younger.\n\nThere they all sat silently looking at the fire. They were the twelve\nmonths of the year. The great Setchene (January) was placed higher\nthan the others; his hair and mustache were white as snow, and in his\nhand he held a wand. At first Marouckla was afraid, but after a while\nher courage returned and drawing near she said:\n\n\"Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? I am chilled by the\nwinter cold.\"\n\nThe great Setchene raised his head and answered:\n\n\"What brings thee here, my daughter? What dost thou seek?\"\n\n\"I am looking for violets,\" replied the maiden.\n\n\"This is not the season for violets; dost thou not see the snow\neverywhere?\" said Setchene.\n\n\"I know well, but my sister Helen and my stepmother have ordered me to\nbring them violets from your mountain: if I return without them they\nwill kill me. I pray you, good shepherds, tell me where they may be\nfound?\"\n\nHere the great Setchene arose and went over to the youngest of the\nmonths, and placing his wand in his hand, said:\n\n\"Brother Brezene (March), do thou take the highest place.\"\n\nBrezene obeyed, at the same time waving his wand over the fire.\nImmediately the flames rose towards the sky, the snow began to melt\nand the tress and shrubs to bud; the grass became green, and from\nbetween its blades peeped the pale primrose. It was Spring, and the\nmeadows were blue with violets.\n\n\"Gather them quickly, Marouckla,\" said Brezene.\n\nJoyfully she hastened to pick the flowers, and having soon a large\nbunch she thanked them and ran home. Helen and the stepmother were\namazed at the sight of the flowers, the scent of which filled the\nhouse.\n\n\"Where did you find them?\" asked Helen.\n\n\"Under the trees on the mountain slope,\" said Marouckla.\n\nHelen kept the flowers for herself and her mother; she did not even\nthank her stepsister for the trouble she had taken. The next day she\ndesired Marouckla to fetch her strawberries.\n\n\"Run,\" said she, \"and fetch me strawberries from the mountain: they\nmust be very sweet and ripe.\"\n\n\"But who ever heard of strawberries ripening in the snow?\" exclaimed\nMarouckla.\n\n\"Hold your tongue, worm; don't answer me; if I don't have my\nstrawberries I will kill you.\"\n\nThen the stepmother pushed her into the yard and bolted the door. The\nunhappy girl made her way towards the mountain and to the large fire\nround which sat the twelve months. The great Setchene occupied the\nhighest place.\n\n\"Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? The winter cold chills\nme,\" said she, drawing near.\n\nThe great Setchene raised his head and asked:\n\n\"Why comest thou here? What dost thou seek?\"\n\n\"I am looking for strawberries,\" said she.\n\n\"We are in the midst of winter,\" replied Setchene; strawberries do not\ngrow in the snow.\"\n\n\"I know,\" said the girl sadly, \"but my sister and stepmother have\nordered me to bring them strawberries; if I do not they will kill me.\nPray, good shepherds, tell me where to find them.\"\n\nThe great Setchene arose, crossed over to the month opposite him, and\nputting the wand into his hand, said:\n\n\"Brother Tchervene (June), do thou take the highest place.\"\n\nTchervene obeyed, and as he waved his wand over the fire the flames\nleapt towards the sky. Instantly the snow melted, the earth was\ncovered with verdure, trees were clothed with leaves, birds began\nto sing, and various flowers blossomed in the forest. It was summer.\nUnder the bushes masses of star-shaped flowers changed into ripening\nstrawberries. Before Marouckla had time to cross herself they covered\nthe glade, making it look like a sea of blood.\n\n\"Gather them quickly, Marouckla,\" said Tchervene.\n\nJoyfully she thanked the months, and having filled her apron\nran happily home. Helen and her mother wondered at seeing the\nstrawberries, which filled the house with their delicious fragrance.\n\n\"Wherever did you find them?\" asked Helen crossly.\n\n\"Right up among the mountains; those from under the beech trees are\nnot bad.\"\n\nHelen gave a few to her mother and ate the rest herself; not one did\nshe offer to her stepsister. Being tired of strawberries, on the third\nday she took a fancy for some fresh red apples.\n\n\"Run, Marouckla,\" said she, \"and fetch me fresh red apples from the\nmountain.\"\n\n\"Apples in winter, sister? why, the trees have neither leaves nor\nfruit.\"\n\n\"Idle creature, go this minute,\" said Helen; \"unless you bring back\napples we will kill you.\"\n\nAs before, the stepmother seized her roughly and turned her out of\nthe house. The poor girl went weeping up the mountain, across the deep\nsnow upon which lay no human footprint, and on towards the fire round\nwhich were the twelve months. Motionless sat they, and on the highest\nstone was the great Setchene.\n\n\"Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? The winter cold chills\nme,\" said she, drawing near.\n\nThe great Setchene raised his head.\n\n\"Why com'st thou here? What dost thou seek?\" asked he.\n\n\"I am come to look for red apples,\" replied Marouckla.\n\n\"But this is winter, and not the season for red apples,\" observed the\ngreat Setchene.\n\n\"I know,\" answered the girl, \"but my sister and stepmother, sent me to\nfetch red apples from the mountain; if I return without them they will\nkill me.\"\n\nThereupon the great Setchene arose and went over to one of the elderly\nmonths, to whom he handed the wand, saying:\n\n\"Brother Zare (September), do thou take the highest place.\"\n\nZare moved to the highest stone and waved his wand over the fire.\nThere was a flare of red flames, the snow disappeared, but the fading\nleaves which trembled on the trees were sent by a cold northeast\nwind in yellow masses to the glade. Only a few flowers of autumn were\nvisible, such as the fleabane and red gillyflower, autumn colchicums\nin the ravine, and under the beeches bracken and tufts of northern\nheather. At first Marouckla looked in vain for red apples. Then she\nespied a tree which grew at a great height, and from the branches\nof this hung the bright red fruit. Zare ordered her to gather some\nquickly. The girl was delighted and shook the tree. First one apple\nfell, then another.\n\n\"That is enough,\" said Zare, \"hurry home.\"\n\nThanking the months, she returned joyfully. Helen marveled and the\nstepmother wondered at seeing the fruit.\n\n\"Where did you gather them?\" asked the stepsister.\n\n\"There are more on the mountain top,\" answered Marouckla.\n\n\"Then why did you not bring more?\" said Helen angrily; \"you must have\neaten them on your way back, you wicked girl.\"\n\n\"No, dear sister, I have not even tasted them,\" said Marouckla. \"I\nshook the tree twice; one apple fell each time. I was not allowed to\nshake it again, but was told to return home.\"\n\n\"May God smite you with his thunderbolt,\" said Helen, striking her.\n\nMarouckla prayed to die rather than suffer such ill-treatment. Weeping\nbitterly, she took refuge in the kitchen. Helen and her mother found\nthe apples more delicious than any they had ever tasted, and when they\nhad eaten both longed for more.\n\n\"Listen, mother,\" said Helen. \"Give me my cloak; I will fetch some\nmore apples myself, or else that good-for-nothing wretch will eat them\nall on the way. I shall be able to find the mountain and the tree. The\nshepherds may cry 'Stop,' but I shall not leave go till I have shaken\ndown all the apples.\"\n\nIn spite of her mother's advice she put on her cloak, covered her head\nwith a warm hood, and took the road to the mountain. The mother stood\nand watched her till she was lost in the distance.\n\nSnow covered everything, not a human footprint was to be seen on its\nsurface. Helen lost herself and wandered hither and thither. After\na while she saw a light above her, and following in its direction\nreached the mountain top. There was the flaming fire, the twelve\nblocks of stone, and the twelve months. At first she was frightened\nand hesitated; then she came nearer and warmed her hands. She did not\nask permission, nor did she speak one polite word.\n\n\"What has brought thee here? What dost thou seek?\" said the great\nSetchene severely.\n\n\"I am not obliged to tell you, old graybeard; what business is it of\nyours?\" she replied disdainfully, turning her back on the fire and\ngoing towards the forest.\n\nThe great Setchene frowned, and waved his wand over his head.\nInstantly the sky became covered with clouds, the fire went down, snow\nfell in large flakes, an icy wind howled round the mountain. Amid the\nfury of the storm Helen added curses against her stepsister. The cloak\nfailed to warm her benumbed limbs. The mother kept on waiting for her;\nshe looked from the window, she watched from the doorstep, but her\ndaughter came not. The hours passed slowly, but Helen did not return.\n\n\"Can it be that the apples have charmed her from her home?\" thought\nthe mother. Then she clad herself in hood and shawl and went in search\nof her daughter. Snow fell in huge masses; it covered all things, it\nlay untouched by human footsteps. For long she wandered hither and\nthither; the icy northeast wind whistled in the mountain, but no voice\nanswered her cries.\n\nDay after day Marouckla worked and prayed, and waited; but neither\nstepmother nor sister returned, they had been frozen to death on the\nmountain. The inheritance of a small house, a field, and a cow fell to\nMarouckla. In course of time an honest farmer came to share them with\nher, and their lives were happy and peaceful.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SUN; OR, THE THREE GOLDEN HAIRS OF THE OLD MAN VSEVEDE\n\nADAPTED BY ALEXANDER CHODSKO\n\n\nCan this be a true story? It is said that once there was a King who\nwas exceedingly fond of hunting the wild beasts in his forests. One\nday he followed a stag so far and so long that he lost his way. Alone\nand overtaken by night, he was glad to find himself near a small\nthatched cottage in which lived a charcoal-burner.\n\n\"Will you kindly show me the way to the highroad? You shall be\nhandsomely rewarded.\"\n\n\"I would willingly,\" said the charcoal-burner, \"But God is going to\nsend my wife a little child, and I cannot leave her alone. Will you\npass the night under our roof? There is a truss of sweet hay in the\nloft where you may rest, and to-morrow morning I will be your guide.\"\n\nThe King accepted the invitation and went to bed in the loft. Shortly\nafter a son was born to the charcoal-burner's wife. But the King\ncould not sleep. At midnight he heard noises in the house, and looking\nthrough a crack in the flooring he saw the charcoal-burner asleep, his\nwife almost in a faint, and by the side of the newly-born babe three\nold women dressed in white, each holding a lighted taper in her hand,\nand all talking together. Now these were the three Soudiche or Fates,\nyou must know.\n\nThe first said, \"On this boy I bestow the gift of confronting great\ndangers.\"\n\nThe second said, \"I bestow the power of happily escaping all these\ndangers, and of living to a good old age.\"\n\nThe third said, \"I bestow upon him for wife the Princess born at the\nself-same hour as he, and daughter of the very King sleeping above in\nthe loft.\"\n\nAt these words the lights went out and silence reigned around.\n\nNow the King was greatly troubled, and wondered exceedingly; he felt\nas if he had received a sword-thrust in the chest. He lay awake all\nnight thinking how to prevent the words of the Fates from coming true.\n\nWith the first glimmer of morning light the baby began to cry. The\ncharcoal-burner, on going over to it, found that his wife was dead.\n\n\"Poor little orphan,\" he said sadly, \"what will become of thee without\na mother's care?\"\n\n\"Confide this child to me,\" said the King, \"I will look after it. He\nshall be well provided for. You shall be given a sum of money large\nenough to keep you without having to burn charcoal.\"\n\nThe poor man gladly agreed, and the King went away promising to send\nsome one for the child. The Queen and the courtiers thought it would\nbe an agreeable surprise for the King to hear that a charming little\nPrincess had been born on the night he was away. But instead of being\npleased he frowned and calling one of his servants, said to him, \"Go\nto the charcoal-burner's cottage in the, forest, and give the man this\npurse in exchange for a new-born infant. On your way back drown\nthe child. See well that he is drowned, for if he should in any way\nescape, you yourself shall suffer in his place.\"\n\nThe servant was given the child in a basket, and on reaching the\ncenter of a narrow bridge that stretched across a wide and deep river,\nhe threw both basket and baby into the water.\n\n\"A prosperous journey to you, Mr. Son-in-Law,\" said the King, on\nhearing the servant's story; for he fully believed the child was\ndrowned. But it was far from being the case; the little one was\nfloating happily along in its basket cradle, and slumbering as\nsweetly as if his mother had sung him to sleep. Now it happened that\na fisherman, who was mending his nets before his cottage door, saw\nthe basket floating down the river. He jumped at once into his boat,\npicked it up, and ran to tell his wife the good news.\n\n\"Look,\" said he, \"you have always longed for a son; here is a\nbeautiful little boy the river has sent us.\"\n\nThe woman was delighted, and took the infant and loved it as her own\nchild. They named him _Plavacek_ (the floater), because he had come to\nthem floating on the water.\n\nThe river flowed on. Years passed away. The little baby grew into a\nhandsome youth; in all the villages round there were none to compare\nwith him. Now it happened that one summer day the King was riding\nunattended, and the heat being very great he reined in his horse\nbefore the fisherman's door to ask for a drink of water. Plavacek\nbrought the water. The King looked at him attentively, then turning to\nthe fisherman, said, \"That is a good-looking lad; is he your son?\"\n\n\"He is and he isn't,\" replied the fisherman. \"I found him, when he was\nquite a tiny baby, floating down the stream in a basket. So we adopted\nhim and brought him up as our own son.\"\n\nThe King turned as pale as death, for he guessed that he was the same\nchild he had ordered to be drowned. Then recovering himself he got\ndown from his horse and said: \"I want a trusty messenger to take a\nmessage to the palace, could you send him with it?\"\n\n\"With pleasure! Your Majesty may be sure of its safe delivery.\"\n\nThereupon the King wrote to the Queen as follows:\n\n\"The man who brings you this letter is the most dangerous of all my\nenemies. Have his head cut off at once; no delay, no pity, he must be\nexecuted before my return. Such is my will and pleasure.\"\n\nThis he carefully folded and sealed with the royal seal.\n\nPlavacek took the letter and set off immediately. But the forest\nthrough which he had to pass was so large, and the trees so thick,\nthat he missed the path and was overtaken by the darkness before the\njourney was nearly over. In the midst of his trouble he met an old\nwoman who said, \"Where are you going, Plavacek? Where are you going?\"\n\n\"I am the bearer of a letter from the King to the Queen, but have\nmissed the path to the palace. Could you, good mother, put me on the\nright road?\"\n\n\"Impossible to-day, my child; it is getting dark, and you would not\nhave time to get there. Stay with me to-night. You will not be with\nstrangers, for I am your godmother.\"\n\nPlavacek agreed. Thereupon they entered a pretty little cottage that\nseemed suddenly to sink into the earth. Now while he slept the old\nwoman changed his letter for another, which ran thus:\n\n\"Immediately upon the receipt of this letter introduce the bearer\nto the Princess our daughter, I have chosen this young man for my\nson-in-law, and it is my wish they should be married before my return\nto the palace. Such is my pleasure.\"\n\nThe letter was duly delivered, and when the Queen had read it, she\nordered everything to be prepared for the wedding. Both she and her\ndaughter greatly enjoyed Plavacek's society, and nothing disturbed the\nhappiness of the newly married pair.\n\nWithin a few days the King returned, and on hearing what had taken\nplace was very angry with the Queen.\n\n\"But you expressly bade me have the wedding before your return. Come,\nread your letter again, here it is,\" said she.\n\nHe closely examined the letter; the paper, handwriting, seal--all were\nundoubtedly his. He then called his son-in-law, and questioned him\nabout his journey. Plavacek hid nothing: he told how he had lost his\nway, and how he had passed the night in a cottage in the forest.\n\n\"What was the old woman like?\" asked the King.\n\nFrom Plavacek's description the King knew it was the very same who,\ntwenty years before, had foretold the marriage of the Princess with\nthe charcoal-burner's son. After some moments' thought the King\nsaid: \"What is done is done. But you will not become my son-in-law\nso easily. No, i' faith! As a wedding present you must bring me three\ngolden hairs from the head of Dede-Vsevede.\"\n\nIn this way he thought to get rid of his son-in-law, whose very\npresence was distasteful to him. The young fellow took leave of his\nwife and set off. \"I know not which way to go,\" said he to himself,\n\"but my godmother the witch will surely help me.\"\n\nBut he found the way easily enough. He walked on and on and on for\na long time over mountain, valley, and river, until he reached the\nshores of the Black Sea. There he found a boat and boatman.\n\n\"May God bless you, old boatman,\" said he.\n\n\"And you, too, my young traveler. Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To Dede-Vsevede's castle for three of his golden hairs.\"\n\n\"Ah, then you are very welcome. For a long weary while I have been\nwaiting for such a messenger as you. I have been ferrying passengers\nacross for these twenty years, and not one of them has done anything\nto help me. If you will promise to ask Dede-Vsevede when I shall be\nreleased from my toil I will row you across.\"\n\nPlavacek promised, and was rowed to the opposite bank. He continued\nhis journey on foot until he came in sight of a large town half in\nruins, near which was passing a funeral procession. The King of that\ncountry was following his father's coffin, and with the tears running\ndown his cheeks.\n\n\"May God comfort you in your distress,\" said Plavacek.\n\n\"Thank you, good traveler. Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To the house of Dede-Vsevede in quest of three of his golden hairs.\"\n\n\"To the house of Dede-Vsevede? Indeed! What a pity you did not come\nsooner, we have long been expecting such a messenger as you. Come and\nsee me by-and-by.\"\n\nWhen Plavacek presented himself at court the King said to him:\n\n\"We understand you are on your way to the house of Dede-Vsevede! Now\nwe have an apple-tree here that bears the fruit of everlasting youth.\nOne of these apples eaten by a man, even though he be dying, will cure\nhim and make him young again. For the last twenty years neither fruit\nnor flower has been found on this tree. Will you ask Dede-Vsevede the\ncause of it?\"\n\n\"That I will, with pleasure.\"\n\nThen Plavacek continued his journey, and as he went he came to a large\nand beautiful city where all was sad and silent. Near the gate was an\nold man who leaned on a stick and walked with difficulty.\n\n\"May God bless you, good old man.\"\n\n\"And you, too, my handsome young traveler. Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To Dede-Vsevede's palace in search of three of his golden hairs.\"\n\n\"Ah, you are the very messenger I have so long waited for. Allow me to\ntake you to my master the King.\"\n\nOn their arrival at the palace, the King said, \"I hear you are an\nambassador to Dede-Vsevede. We have here a well, the water of\nwhich renews itself. So wonderful are its effects that invalids are\nimmediately cured on drinking it, while a few drops sprinkled on a\ncorpse will bring it to life again. For the past twenty years this\nwell has remained dry: if you will ask old Dede-Vsevede how the flow\nof water may be restored I will reward you royally.\"\n\nPlavacek promised to do so, and was dismissed with good wishes. He\nthen traveled through deep dark forests, in the midst of which might\nbe seen a large meadow: out of it grew lovely flowers, and in the\ncenter stood a castle built of gold. It was the home of Dede-Vsevede.\nSo brilliant with light was it that it seemed to be built of fire.\nWhen he entered there was no one there but an old woman spinning.\n\n\"Greeting, Plavacek, I am well pleased to see you.\"\n\nShe was his godmother, who had given him shelter in her cottage when\nhe was the bearer of the King's letter.\n\n\"Tell me what brings you here from such a distance,\" she went on.\n\n\"The King would not have me for his son-in-law, unless I first got him\nthree golden hairs from the head of Dede-Vsevede. So he sent me here\nto fetch them.\"\n\nThe Fate laughed. \"Dede-Vsevede indeed! Why, I am his mother, it is\nthe shining sun himself. He is a child at morning time, a grown man\nat midday, a decrepit old man, looking as if he had lived a hundred\nyears, at eventide. But I will see that you have the three hairs from\nhis head; I am not your godmother for nothing. All the same you must\nnot remain here. My son is a good lad, but when he comes home he\nis hungry, and would very probably order you to be roasted for his\nsupper. Now I will turn this empty bucket upside down, and you shall\nhide underneath it.\"\n\nPlavacek begged the Fate to obtain from Dede-Vsevede the answers to\nthe three questions he had been asked.\n\n\"I will do so certainly, but you must listen to what he says.\"\n\nSuddenly a blast of wind howled round the palace, and the Sun entered\nby a western window. He was an old man with golden hair.\n\n\"I smell human flesh,\" cried he, \"I am sure of it. Mother, you have\nsome one here.\"\n\n\"Star of day,\" she replied, \"whom could I have here that you would not\nsee sooner than I? The fact is that in your daily journeys the scent\nof human flesh is always with you, so when you come home at evening it\nclings to you still.\"\n\nThe old man said nothing, and sat down to supper. When he had finished\nhe laid his golden head on the Fate's lap and went to sleep. Then she\npulled out a hair and threw it on the ground. It fell with a metallic\nsound like the vibration of a guitar string.\n\n\"What do you want, mother?\" asked he.\n\n\"Nothing, my son; I was sleeping, and had a strange dream.\"\n\n\"What was it, mother?\"\n\n\"I thought I was in a place where there was a well, and the well was\nfed from a spring, the water of which cured all diseases. Even the\ndying were restored to health on drinking that water, and the dead who\nwere sprinkled with it came to life again. For the last twenty years\nthe well has run dry. What must be done to restore the flow of water?\"\n\n\"That is very simple. A frog has lodged itself in the opening of the\nspring, this prevents the flow of water. Kill the frog, and the water\nwill return to the well.\"\n\nHe slept again, and the old woman pulled out another golden hair, and\nthrew it on the ground.\n\n\"Mother, what do you want?\"\n\n\"Nothing, my son, nothing; I was dreaming. In my dream I saw a large\ntown, the name of which I have forgotten. And there grew an apple-tree\nthe fruit of which had the power to make the old young again. A single\napple eaten by an old man would restore to him the vigor and freshness\nof youth. For twenty years this tree has not borne fruit. What can be\ndone to make it fruitful?\"\n\n\"The means are not difficult. A snake hidden among the roots destroys\nthe sap. Kill the snake, transplant the tree, and the fruit will grow\nas before.\"\n\nHe again fell asleep, and the old woman pulled out another golden\nhair.\n\n\"Now mother, why will you not let me sleep?\" said the old man, really\nvexed; and he would have got up.\n\n\"Lie down, my darling son, do not disturb yourself. I am sorry I\nawoke you, but I have had a very strange dream. It seemed that I saw a\nboatman on the shores of the Black Sea, and he complained that he had\nbeen toiling at the ferry for twenty years without any one having come\nto take his place. For how much longer must this poor old man continue\nto row?\"\n\n\"He is a silly fellow. He has but to place his oars in the hands\nof the first comer and jump ashore. Who ever receives the oars will\nreplace him as ferryman. But leave me in peace now, mother, and do not\nwake me again. I have to rise very early, and must first dry the eyes\nof a Princess. The poor thing spends all night weeping for her husband\nwho has been sent by the King to get three of my golden hairs.\"\n\nNext morning the wind whistled round Dede-Vsevede's palace, and\ninstead of an old man, a beautiful child with golden hair awoke on\nthe old woman's lap. It was the glorious sun. He bade her good-by, and\nflew out of the eastern window. The old woman turned up the bucket and\nsaid to Plavacek: \"Look, here are the three golden hairs. You now\nknow the answers to your questions. May God direct you and send you\na prosperous journey. You will not see me again, for you will have no\nfurther need of me.\"\n\nHe thanked her gratefully and left her. On arriving at the town with\nthe dried-up well, he was questioned by the King as to what news he\nhad brought.\n\n\"Have the well carefully cleaned out,\" said he, \"kill the frog that\nobstructs the spring, and the wonderful water will flow again.\"\n\nThe King did as he was advised, and rejoiced to see the water return.\nHe gave Plavacek twelve swan-white horses, and as much gold and silver\nas they could carry.\n\nOn reaching the second town and being asked by the King what news he\nhad brought, he replied, \"Excellent; one could not wish for better.\nDig up your apple-tree, kill the snake that lies among the roots,\ntransplant the tree, and it will produce apples like those of former\ntimes.\"\n\nAnd all turned out as he had said, for no sooner was the tree\nreplanted than it was covered with blossoms that gave it the\nappearance of a sea of roses. The delighted King gave him twelve\nraven-black horses, laden with as much wealth as they could carry.\nHe then journeyed to the shores of the Black Sea. There the boatman\nquestioned him as to what news he had brought respecting his release.\nPlavacek first crossed with his twenty-four horses to the opposite\nbank, and then replied that the boatman might gain his freedom by\nplacing the oars in the hands of the first traveler who wished to be\nferried over.\n\nPlavacek's royal father-in-law could not believe his eyes when he\nsaw Dede-Vsevede's three golden hairs. As for the Princess, his young\nwife, she wept tears, but of joy, not sadness, to see her dear one\nagain, and she said to him, \"How did you get such splendid horses and\nso much wealth, dear husband?\"\n\nAnd he answered her, \"All this represents the price paid for the\nweariness of spirit I have felt; it is the ready money for hardships\nendured and services given. Thus, I showed one King how to regain\npossession of the Apples of Youth: to another I told the secret of\nreopening the spring of water that gives health and life.\"\n\n\"Apples of Youth! Water of Life!\" interrupted the King. \"I will\ncertainly go and find these treasures for myself. Ah, what joy! having\neaten of these apples I shall become young again; having drunk of the\nWater of Immortality, I shall live forever.\"\n\nAnd he started off in search of these treasures. But he has not yet\nreturned from his search.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA MYTH OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\nHIAWATHA\n\nADAPTED FROM H.R. SCHOOLCRAFT's VERSION\n\n\nHiawatha was living with his grandmother near the edge of a wide\nprairie. On this prairie he first saw animals and birds of every\nkind. He there also saw exhibitions of divine power in the sweeping\ntempests, in the thunder and lightning, and the various shades of\nlight and darkness which form a never ending scene for observation.\nEvery new sight he beheld in the heavens was a subject of remark;\nevery new animal or bird an object of deep interest; and every sound\nuttered by the animal creation a new lesson, which he was expected to\nlearn. He often trembled at what he heard and saw. To this scene his\ngrandmother sent him at an early age to watch. The first sound he\nheard was that of an owl, at which he was greatly terrified, and\nquickly descending the tree he had climbed, he ran with alarm to the\nlodge. \"Noko! Noko!\" (grandma) he cried, \"I have heard a momendo.\" She\nlaughed at his fears, and asked him what kind of a noise it made. He\nanswered, \"It makes a noise like this: Ko-ko-ko-ho.\" She told him\nthat he was young and foolish; that what he had heard was only a bird,\nderiving its name from the noise it made.\n\nHe went back and continued his watch. While there, he thought to\nhimself, \"It is singular that I am so simple, and my grandmother so\nwise, and that I have neither father nor mother. I have never heard a\nword about them. I must ask and find out.\" He went home and sat down\nsilent and dejected. At length his grandmother asked him, \"Hiawatha,\nwhat is the matter with you?\" He answered, \"I wish you would tell me\nwhether I have any parents living and who my relatives are.\" Knowing\nthat he was of a wicked and revengeful disposition, she dreaded\ntelling him the story of his parentage, but he insisted on her\ncompliance. \"Yes,\" she said, \"you have a father and three brothers\nliving. Your mother is dead. She was taken without the consent of her\nparents by your father the West. Your brothers are the North, East,\nand South, and, being older than yourself, your father has given them\ngreat power with the winds, according to their names. You are the\nyoungest of his children. I have nourished you from your infancy, for\nyour mother died in giving you birth, owing to the ill-treatment of\nyour father. I have no relations besides you this side of the planet\non which I was born, and from which I was precipitated by female\njealousy. Your mother was my only child, and you are my only hope.\"\n\nHe appeared to be rejoiced to hear that his father was living, for\nhe had already thought in his heart to try and kill him. He told his\ngrandmother he should set out in the morning to visit him. She said it\nwas a long distance to the place where The West lived. But that had\nno effect to stop him for he had now attained manhood, possessed a\ngiant's height, and was endowed by nature with a giant's strength and\npower. He set out and soon reached the place, for every step he took\ncovered a large surface of ground. The meeting took place on a high\nmountain in the West. His father appeared very happy to see him. They\nspent some days in talking with each other.\n\nOne evening Hiawatha asked his father what he was most afraid of on\nearth. He replied, \"Nothing.\" \"But is there not something you dread\nhere? Tell me.\" At last his father said, yielding, \"Yes, there is a\nblack stone found in such a place. It is the only earthly thing I am\nafraid of; for if it should hit me, or any part of my body, it would\ninjure me very much.\" He said this as a secret, and in return asked\nhis son the same question. Knowing each other's power, although the\nson's was limited, the father feared him on account of his great\nstrength. Hiawatha answered, \"Nothing!\" intending to avoid the\nquestion, or to refer to some harmless object as the one of which he\nwas afraid. He was asked again, and again, and answered, \"Nothing!\"\nBut the West said, \"There must be something you are afraid of.\" \"Well!\nI will tell you,\" said Hiawatha, \"what it is.\" But, before he would\npronounce the word, he affected great dread. \"_Ie-ee_--_Ie-ee_--it\nis--it is,\" said he, \"yeo! yeo! I cannot name it; I am seized with a\ndread.\" The West told him to banish his fears. He commenced again, in\na strain of mock sensitiveness repeating the same words; at last\nhe cried out, \"It is the root of the bulrush.\" He appeared to be\nexhausted by the effort of pronouncing the word, in all this skilfully\nacting a studied part.\n\nSome time after he observed, \"I will get some of the black rock;\"\nthe West said, \"Far be it from you; do not so, my son.\" He still\npersisted. \"Well,\" said the father, \"I will also get the bulrush root.\"\nHiawatha immediately cried out, \"Do not--do not,\" affecting as before,\nto be in great dread of it, but really wishing, by this course, to\nurge on the West to procure it, that he might draw him into combat. He\nwent out and got a large piece of the black rock, and brought it home.\nThe West also took care to bring the dreaded root.\n\nIn the course of conversation he asked his father whether he had been\nthe cause of his mother's death. The answer was \"Yes!\" He then took\nup the rock and struck him. Blow led to blow, and here commenced an\nobstinate and furious combat, which continued several days. Fragments\nof the rock, broken off under Hiawatha's blows, can be seen in various\nplaces to this day. The root did not prove as mortal a weapon as his\nwell-acted fears had led his father to expect, although he suffered\nseverely from the blows. This battle commenced on the mountains. The\nWest was forced to give ground. Hiawatha drove him across rivers, and\nover mountains and lakes, and at last he came to the brink of this\nworld.\n\n\"Hold!\" cried he, \"my son; you know my power, and that it is\nimpossible to kill me. Desist, and I will also portion you out with\nas much power as your brothers. The four quarters of the globe are\nalready occupied; but you can go and do a great deal of good to the\npeople of this earth, which is infested with large serpents, beasts,\nand monsters, who make great [Blank Page] havoc among the inhabitants.\nGo and do good. You have the power now to do so, and your fame with\nthe beings of this earth will last forever. When you have finished\nyour work, I will have a place provided for you. You will then go and\nsit with your brother in the north.\"\n\n[Illustration: FROM THE \"COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE\" BY PERMISSION.\n\nHIAWATHA IN HIS CANOE.]\n\nHiawatha was pacified. He returned to his lodge, where he was confined\nby the wounds he had received. But owing to his grandmother's skill in\nmedicine he was soon recovered. She told him that his grandfather,\nwho had come to the earth in search of her, had been killed by\nMeg-gis-sog-won, who lived on the opposite side of the great lake.\n\"When he was alive,\" she continued, \"I was never without oil to put on\nmy head, but now my hair is fast falling off for the want of it.\"\n\n\"Well!\" said he, \"Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line, while I\nmake a canoe.\" When all was ready, he went out to the middle of the\nlake to fish. He put his line down, saying, \"Me-she-nah-ma-gwai (the\nname of the kingfish), take hold of my bait.\" He kept repeating this\nfor some time. At last the king of the fishes said, \"Hiawatha troubles\nme. Here, Trout, take hold of his line,\" which was very heavy, so\nthat his canoe stood nearly perpendicular; but he kept crying out,\n\"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!\" till he could see the trout. As soon as he saw\nhim, he spoke to him. \"Why did you take hold of my hook? Shame, shame\nyou ugly fish.\" The trout, being thus rebuked, let go.\n\nHiawatha put his line again in the water, saying, \"King of fishes,\ntake hold of my line.\" But the king of fishes told a monstrous sunfish\nto take hold of it; for Hiawatha was tiring him with his incessant\ncalls. He again drew up his line with difficulty, saying as before,\n\"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!\" while his canoe was turning in swift circles.\nWhen he saw the sunfish, he cried, \"Shame, shame you odious fish! why\ndid you dirty my hook by taking it in your mouth? Let go, I say, let\ngo.\" The sunfish did so, and told the king of fishes what Hiawatha\nsaid. Just at that moment the bait came near the king, and hearing\nHiawatha continually crying out, \"Me-she-nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my\nhook,\" at last he did so, and allowed himself to be drawn up to the\nsurface, which he had no sooner reached than, at one mouthful, he took\nHiawatha and his canoe down. When he came to himself, he found that\nhe was in the fish's belly, and also his canoe. He now turned his\nthoughts to the way of making his escape. Looking in his canoe, he saw\nhis war-club, with which he immediately struck the heart of the\nfish. He then felt a sudden motion, as if he were moving with great\nvelocity. The fish observed to the others, \"I am sick at stomach for\nhaving swallowed this dirty fellow, Hiawatha.\" Just at this moment he\nreceived another severe blow on the heart. Hiawatha thought, \"If I\nam thrown up in the middle of the lake, I shall be drowned; so I must\nprevent it.\" He drew his canoe and placed it across the fish's throat,\nand just as he had finished the fish commenced vomiting, but to no\neffect. In this he was aided by a squirrel, who had accompanied him\nunperceived until that moment. This animal had taken an active part in\nhelping him to place his canoe across the fish's throat. For this\nact he named him, saying, \"For the future, boys shall always call you\nAjidaumo [Upside Down]!\"\n\nHe then renewed his attack upon the fish's heart, and succeeded, by\nrepeated blows, in killing him, which he first knew by the loss of\nmotion, and by the sound of the beating of the body against the\nshore. He waited a day longer to see what would happen. He heard birds\nscratching on the body, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He\ncould see the heads of gulls, who were looking in by the opening they\nhad made. \"Oh!\" cried Hiawatha, \"my younger brothers, make the opening\nlarger, so that I can get out.\" They told each other that their\nbrother Hiawatha was inside of the fish. They immediately set about\nenlarging the orifice, and in a short time liberated him. After he got\nout he said to the gulls, \"For the future you shall be called Kayoshk\n[Noble Scratchers]!\"\n\nThe spot where the fish happened to be driven ashore was near his\nlodge. He went up and told his grandmother to go and prepare as much\noil as she wanted. All besides, he informed her, he should keep for\nhimself.\n\nSome time after this, he commenced making preparations for a war\nexcursion against the Pearl Feather, the Manito who lived on the\nopposite side of the great lake, who had killed his grandfather. The\nabode of his spirit was defended, first, by fiery serpents, who hissed\nfire so that no one could pass them; and, in the second place, by a\nlarge mass of gummy matter lying on the water, so soft and adhesive,\nthat whoever attempted to pass, or whatever came in contact with it,\nwas sure to stick there.\n\nHe continued making bows and arrows without number, but he had no\nheads for his arrows. At last Noko told him that an old man who lived\nat some distance could make them. He sent her to get some. She soon\nreturned with her conaus, or wrapper, full. Still he told her he had\nnot enough, and sent her again. She returned with as many more. He\nthought to himself, \"I must find out the way of making these heads.\"\nCunning and curiosity prompted him to make the discovery. But he\ndeemed it necessary to deceive his grandmother in so doing. \"Noko,\"\nsaid he, \"while I take my drum and rattle, and sing my war-songs,\ngo and try to get me some larger heads for my arrows, for those you\nbrought me are all of the same size. Go and see whether the old\nman cannot make some a little larger.\" He followed her as she went,\nkeeping at a distance, and saw the old artificer at work, and so\ndiscovered his process. He also beheld the old man's daughter, and\nperceived that she was very beautiful. He felt his breast beat with\na new emotion, but said nothing. He took care to get home before his\ngrandmother, and commenced singing as if he had never left his lodge.\nWhen the old woman came near, she heard his drum and rattle, without\nany suspicion that he had followed her. She delivered him the\narrow-heads.\n\nOne evening the old woman said, \"My son, you ought to fast before you\ngo to war, as your brothers frequently do, to find out whether\nyou will be successful or not.\" He said he had no objection, and\nimmediately commenced a fast for several days. He would retire\nevery day from the lodge so far as to be out of the reach of his\ngrandmother's voice.\n\nAfter having finished his term of fasting and sung his war-song from\nwhich the Indians of the present day derive their custom--he embarked\nin his canoe, fully prepared for war. In addition to the usual\nimplements, he had a plentiful supply of oil. He traveled rapidly\nnight and day, for he had only to will or speak, and the canoe went.\nAt length he arrived in sight of the fiery serpents. He stopped to\nview them. He saw they were some distance apart, and that the flame\nonly which issued from them reached across the pass. He commenced\ntalking as a friend to them; but they answered, \"We know you,\nHiawatha, you cannot pass.\" He then thought of some expedient to\ndeceive them, and hit upon this. He pushed his canoe as near as\npossible. All at once he cried out, with a loud and terrified voice,\n\"What is that behind you?\" The serpents instantly turned their heads,\nwhen, at a single word, he passed them. \"Well!\" said he, placidly,\nafter he had got by, \"how do you like my exploit?\" He then took up his\nbow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot them, which was easily\ndone, for the serpents were stationary, and could not move beyond a\ncertain spot. They were of enormous length and of a bright color.\n\nHaving overcome the sentinel serpents, he went on in his magic canoe\ntill he came to a soft gummy portion of the lake, called Pigiu-wagumee\nor Pitchwater. He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then\npushed into it. The oil softened the surface and enabled him to slip\nthrough it with ease, although it required frequent rubbing, and\na constant re-application of the oil. Just as his oil failed, he\nextricated himself from this impediment, and was the first person who\never succeeded in overcoming it.\n\nHe now came in view of land, on which he debarked in safety, and could\nsee the lodge of the Shining Manito, situated on a hill. He commenced\npreparing for the fight, putting his arrows and clubs in order, and\njust at the dawn of day began his attack, yelling and shouting, and\ncrying with triple voices, \"Surround him! surround him! run up! run\nup!\" making it appear that he had many followers. He advanced crying\nout, \"It was you that killed my grandfather,\" and with this shot his\narrows.\n\nThe combat continued all day. Hiawatha's arrows had no effect, for his\nantagonist was clothed with pure wampum. He was now reduced to three\narrows, and it was only by extraordinary agility that he could escape\nthe blows which the Manito kept making at him. At that moment a large\nwoodpecker (the ma-ma) flew past, and lit on a tree. \"Hiawatha\" he\ncried, \"your adversary has a vulnerable point; shoot at the lock of\nhair on the crown of his head.\" He shot his first arrow so as only to\ndraw blood from that part. The Manito made one or two unsteady steps,\nbut recovered himself. He began to parley, but, in the act, received a\nsecond arrow, which brought him to his knees. But he again recovered.\nIn so doing, however, he exposed his head, and gave his adversary a\nchance to fire his third arrow, which penetrated deep, and brought him\na lifeless corpse to the ground. Hiawatha uttered his saw-saw-quan,\nand taking his scalp as a trophy, he called the woodpecker to come and\nreceive a reward for his information. He took the blood of the Manito\nand rubbed it on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of which are red\nto this day.\n\nAfter this victory he returned home, singing songs of triumph and\nbeating his drum. When his grandmother heard him, she came to the\nshore and welcomed him with songs and dancing. Glory fired his mind.\nHe displayed the trophies he had brought in the most conspicuous\nmanner, and felt an unconquerable desire for other adventures. He\nfelt himself urged by the consciousness of his power to new trials of\nbravery, skill, and necromantic prowess. He had destroyed the Manito\nof Wealth, and killed his guardian serpents, and eluded all his\ncharms. He did not long remain inactive.\n\nHis next adventure was upon the water, and proved him the prince of\nfishermen. He captured a fish of such a monstrous size, that the fat\nand oil he obtained from it formed a small lake. He therefore invited\nall the animals and fowls to a banquet, and he made the order in which\nthey partook of this repast the measure of their fatness. As fast as\nthey arrived, he told them to plunge in. The bear came first, and was\nfollowed by the deer, opossum, and such other animals as are noted for\ntheir peculiar fatness at certain seasons. The moose and bison\ncame tardily. The partridge looked on till the reservoir was nearly\nexhausted. The hare and marten came last, and these animals have\nconsequently no fat.\n\nWhen this ceremony was over, he told the assembled animals and birds\nto dance, taking up his drum and crying, \"New songs from the south,\ncome, brothers, dance.\" He directed them to pass in a circle around\nhim, and to shut their eyes. They did so. When he saw a fat fowl pass\nby him, he adroitly wrung off its head, at the same time beating his\ndrum and singing with greater vehemence, to drown the noise of the\nfluttering, and crying out, in a tone of admiration, \"That's the way,\nmy brothers, _that's_ the way.\" At last a small duck [the diver],\nthinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what he was\ndoing. Giving a spring and crying, \"Ha-ha-a! Hiawatha is killing us,\"\nhe made for the water. Hiawatha followed him, and, just as the duck\nwas getting into the water, gave him a kick, which is the cause of his\nback being flattened and his legs being straightened out backward, so\nthat when he gets on land he cannot walk, and his tail feathers are\nfew. Meantime the other birds flew off, and the animals ran into the\nwoods.\n\nAfter this Hiawatha, set out to travel. He wished to outdo all\nothers, and to see new countries. But after walking over America and\nencountering many adventures he became satisfied as well as fatigued.\nHe had heard of great feats in hunting, and felt a desire to try his\npower in that way. One evening, as he was walking along the shores of\na great lake, weary and hungry, he encountered a great magician in\nthe form of an old wolf, with six young ones, coming towards him. The\nwolf, as soon as he saw him, told his whelps to keep out of the way\nof Hiawatha, \"for I know,\" continued he, \"that it is he that we\nsee yonder.\" The young wolves were in the act of running off, when\nHiawatha cried out, \"My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop, and\nI will go with you.\" He appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and\nasked him whither he was journeying. Being told that they were looking\nfor a place where they could find most game, and where they might pass\nthe winter, he said he would like to go with them, and addressed the\nold wolf in the following words: \"Brother, I have a passion for the\nchase; are you willing to change me into a wolf?\" He was answered\nfavorably, and his transformation immediately effected.\n\nHiawatha was fond of novelty. He found himself a wolf corresponding in\nsize with the others, but he was not quite satisfied with the change,\ncrying out, \"Oh, make me a little larger.\" They did so. \"A little\nlarger still,\" he exclaimed. They said, \"Let us humor him,\" and\ngranted his request. \"Well,\" said he, \"_that_ will do.\" He looked at\nhis tail. \"Oh!\" cried he, \"do make my tail a little longer and more\nbushy.\" They did so. They then all started off in company, dashing\nup a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they fell in\nwith the tracks of moose. The young ones went after them, Hiawatha and\nthe old wolf following at their leisure. \"Well,\" said the wolf, \"whom\ndo you think is the fastest of the boys? Can you tell by the jumps\nthey take?\" \"Why,\" he replied, \"that one that takes such long jumps,\nhe is the fastest, to be sure.\" \"Ha! ha! you are mistaken,\" said the\nold wolf. \"He makes a good start, but he will be the first to tire\nout; this one who appears to be behind, will be the one to kill the\ngame.\"\n\nThey then came to the place where the boys had started in chase. One\nhad dropped his small bundle. \"Take that, Hiawatha,\" said the old\nwolf. \"Esa,\" he replied, \"what will I do with a dirty dogskin?\" The\nwolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe. \"Oh, I will carry it now,\"\nsaid Hiawatha. \"Oh no,\" replied the wolf, who at the moment exerted\nhis magic power; \"it is a robe of pearls!\" And from this moment he\nomitted no occasion to display his superiority, both in the art of\nthe hunter and the magician above his conceited companion. Coming to\na place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the young wolves\nhad made a fresh start after their prey. \"Why,\" said the wolf, \"this\nmoose is poor. I know by the tracks, for I can always tell whether\nthey are fat or not.\" They next came to a place where one of the\nwolves had bit at the moose, and had broken one of his teeth on a\ntree. \"Hiawatha,\" said the wolf, \"one of your grandchildren has shot\nat the game. Take his arrow; there it is.\" \"No,\" he replied; \"what\nwill I do with a dirty dog's tooth!\" The old wolf took it up, and\nbehold! it was a beautiful silver arrow. When they overtook the\nyoungsters, they had killed a very fat moose.\n\nHiawatha was extremely hungry; but, alas! such is the power of\nenchantment, he saw nothing but the bones picked quite clean. He\nthought to himself, \"Just as I expected, dirty, greedy fellows!\"\nHowever, he sat down without saying a word. At length the old wolf\nspoke to one of the young ones, saying, \"Give some meat to your\ngrandfather.\" One of them obeyed, and, coming near to Hiawatha, opened\nhis mouth as if he was about to snarl. Hiawatha jumped up saying, \"You\nfilthy dog, you have eaten so much that your stomach refuses to hold\nit. Get you gone into some other place.\" The old wolf, hearing the\nabuse, went a little to one side to see, and behold, a heap of fresh\nruddy meat, with the fat lying all ready prepared. He was followed\nby Hiawatha, who, having the enchantment instantly removed, put on\na smiling face. \"Amazement!\" said he; \"how fine the meat is.\" \"Yes,\"\nreplied the wolf; \"it is always so with us; we know our work, and\nalways get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter.\"\nHiawatha bit his lip.\n\nThey then commenced fixing their winter quarters, while the youngsters\nwent out in search of game, and soon brought in a large supply.\nOne day, during the absence of the young wolves, the old one amused\nhimself in cracking the large bones of a moose. \"Hiawatha,\" said he,\n\"cover your head with the robe, and do not look at me while I am at\nthese bones, for a piece may fly in your eye.\" He did as he was told;\nbut, looking through a rent that was in the robe, he saw what the\nother was about. Just at that moment a piece flew off and hit him on\nthe eye. He cried out, \"Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?\" The\nwolf said, \"You must have been looking at me.\" But deception commonly\nleads to falsehood. \"No, no,\" he said, \"why should I want to look at\nyou?\" \"Hiawatha,\" said the wolf, \"you _must_ have been looking, or you\nwould not have been hurt.\" \"No, no,\" he replied again, \"I was not. I\nwill repay the saucy wolf this,\" thought he to himself. So, next day,\ntaking up a bone to obtain the marrow, he said to the wolf, \"Cover\nyour head and don't look at me, for I fear a piece may fly in your\neye.\" The wolf did so. He then took the leg-bone of the moose, and\nlooking first to see if the wolf was well covered, he hit him a blow\nwith all his might. The wolf jumped up, cried out, and fell prostrate\nfrom the effects of the blow. \"Why,\" said he, \"do you strike me so?\"\n\"Strike you!\" he replied; \"no, you must have been looking at me.\"\n\"No,\" answered the wolf, \"I say I have not.\" But he persisted in the\nassertion, and the poor magician had to give up.\n\nHiawatha was an expert hunter when he earnestly tried to be. He went\nout one day and killed a fat moose. He was very hungry, and sat down\nto eat. But immediately he fell into great doubts as to the proper\npoint to begin. \"Well,\" said he, \"I do not know where to begin. At the\nhead? No! People will laugh, and say 'he ate him backwards!'\" He went\nto the side. \"No!\" said he, \"they will say I ate him sideways.\" He\nthen went to the hind-quarter. \"No!\" said he, \"they will say I ate him\ntoward the head. I will begin _here_, say what they will.\" He took\na delicate piece from the rump, and was just ready to put it in his\nmouth, when a tree close by made a creaking sound, caused by the\nrubbing of one large branch against another. This annoyed him. \"Why!\"\nhe exclaimed, \"I cannot eat while I hear such a noise. Stop! stop!\"\nsaid he to the tree. He was putting the morsel again to his mouth,\nwhen the noise was repeated. He put it down, exclaiming, \"I _cannot\neat_ in such confusion,\" and immediately left the meat, although very\nhungry, to go and put a stop to the racket. He climbed the tree and\nwas pulling at the limb, when his arm was caught between two branches\nso that he could not extricate himself. While thus held fast, he saw a\npack of wolves coming in the direction towards his meat. \"Go that way!\ngo that way!\" he cried out; \"why do you come here?\" The wolves talked\namong themselves and said, \"Hiawatha must have something here, or he\nwould not tell us to go another way.\" \"I begin to know him,\" said an\nold wolf, \"and all his tricks. Let us go forward and see.\" They came\non and finding the moose, soon made away with the whole carcass.\nHiawatha looked on wistfully to see them eat till they were fully\nsatisfied, and they left him nothing but the bare bones. The next\nheavy blast of wind opened the branches and liberated him. He went\nhome, thinking to himself, \"See the effect of meddling with frivolous\nthings when I already had valuable possessions.\"\n\nNext day the old wolf addressed him thus: \"My brother, I am going to\nseparate from you, but I will leave behind me one of the young\nwolves to be your hunter.\" He then departed. In this act Hiawatha was\ndisenchanted, and again resumed his mortal shape. He was sorrowful and\ndejected, but soon resumed his wonted air of cheerfulness. The young\nwolf that was left with him was a good hunter, and never failed to\nkeep the lodge well supplied with meat. One day he addressed him\nas follows: \"My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does not\nportend good. It is of the large lake which lies in _that_ direction.\nYou must be careful never to cross it, even if the ice should appear\ngood. If you should come to it at night weary or hungry, you must make\nthe circuit of it.\" Spring commenced, and the snow was melting fast\nbefore the rays of the sun, when one evening the wolf came to the\nlake weary with the day's chase. He disliked the journey of making its\ncircuit. \"Hwooh!\" he exclaimed, \"there can be no great harm in trying\nthe ice, as it appears to be sound. Nesho, my grandfather, is over\ncautious on this point.\" He had gone but half way across when the ice\ngave way, and falling in, he was immediately seized by the serpents,\nwho knowing he was Hiawatha's grandson, were thirsting for revenge\nupon him. Meanwhile Hiawatha sat pensively in his lodge.\n\nNight came on, but no grandson returned. The second and third night\npassed, but he did not appear. Hiawatha became very desolate and\nsorrowful. \"Ah!\" said he, \"he must have disobeyed me, and has lost his\nlife in that lake I told him of. Well!\" said he at last, \"I must mourn\nfor him.\" So he took coal and blackened his face. But he was much\nperplexed as to the right mode of mourning. \"I wonder,\" said he, \"how\nI must do it? I will cry 'Oh! my grandson! Oh! my grandson!'\" He burst\nout laughing. \"No! no! that won't do. I will try 'Oh! my heart! Oh! my\nheart! ha! ha! ha!' That won't do either. I will cry, 'Oh my drowned\ngrandson.'\"\n\nThis satisfied him, and he remained in his lodge and fasted, till his\ndays of mourning were over. \"Now,\" said he, \"I will go in search of\nhim.\" He set out and traveled till he came to the great lake. He then\nraised the lamentation for his grandson which had pleased him,\nsitting down near a small brook that emptied itself into the lake, and\nrepeating his cries. Soon a bird called Ke-ske-mun-i-see came near to\nhim. The bird inquired, \"What are you doing here?\" \"Nothing,\" Hiawatha\nreplied; \"but can you tell me whether any one lives in this lake, and\nwhat brings you here yourself?\" \"Yes!\" responded the bird; \"the Prince\nof Serpents lives here, and I am watching to see whether the body of\nHiawatha's grandson will not drift ashore, for he was killed by the\nserpents last spring. But are you not Hiawatha himself?\" \"No,\" was the\nreply, with his usual deceit; \"how do you think _he_ could get to this\nplace? But tell me, do the serpents ever appear? When? Where? Tell\nme all about their habits.\" \"Do you see that beautiful white sandy\nbeach?\" said the bird. \"Yes!\" he answered. \"It is there,\" continued\nthe bird, \"that they bask in the sun. Before they come out, the lake\nwill appear perfectly calm; not even a ripple will appear. After\nmidday you will see them.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" he replied; \"I am Hiawatha. I have come in search of the\nbody of my grandson, and to seek my revenge. Come near me that I may\nput a medal round your neck as a reward for your information.\" The\nbird unsuspectingly came near, and received a white medal, which can\nbe seen to this day. While bestowing the medal, he attempted slyly to\nwring the bird's head off, but it escaped him, with only a disturbance\nof the crown feathers of its head, which are rumpled backward. He\nhad found out all he wanted to know, and then desired to conceal the\nknowledge obtained by killing his informant.\n\nHe went to the sandy beach indicated, and transformed himself into an\noak stump. He had not been there long before the lake became perfectly\ncalm. Soon hundreds of monstrous serpents came crawling on the beach.\nOne of the number was beautifully white. He was the Prince. The others\nwere red and yellow. The Prince spoke to those about him as follows:\n\"I never saw that black stump standing there before. It may be\nHiawatha. There is no knowing but that he may be somewhere about here.\nHe has the power of an evil genius, and we should be on our guard\nagainst his wiles.\" One of the large serpents immediately went and\ntwisted himself around it to the top, and pressed it very hard. The\ngreatest pressure happened to be on his throat; he was just ready to\ncry out when the serpent let go. Eight of them went in succession and\ndid the like, but always let go at the moment he was ready to cry out.\n\"It cannot be he,\" they said. \"He is too great a weak-heart for that.\"\nThey then coiled themselves in a circle about their Prince. It was a\nlong time before they fell asleep. When they did so, Hiawatha, took\nhis bow and arrows, and cautiously stepping over the serpents till he\ncame to the Prince, drew up his arrow with the full strength of his\narm, and shot him in the left side. He then gave a saw-saw-quan and\nran off at full speed.\n\nThe sound uttered by the snakes on seeing their Prince mortally\nwounded, was horrible. They cried, \"Hiawatha has killed our Prince;\ngo in chase of him.\" Meantime he ran over hill and valley, to gain the\ninterior of the country, with all his strength and speed, treading a\nmile at a step. But his pursuers were also spirits, and he could\nhear that something was approaching him fast. He made for the highest\nmountain, and climbed the highest tree on its summit, when, dreadful\nto behold, the whole lower country was seen to be overflowed, and the\nwater was gaining rapidly on the highlands. He saw it reach to the\nfoot of the mountains, and at length it came up to the foot of the\ntree, but there was no abatement.\n\nThe flood rose steadily and perceptibly. He soon felt the lower part\nof his body to be immersed in it. He addressed the tree; \"Grandfather,\nstretch yourself.\" The tree did so. But the waters still rose. He\nrepeated his request, and was again obeyed. He asked a third time, and\nwas again obeyed; but the tree replied, \"It is the last time; I cannot\nget any higher.\" The waters continued to rise till they reached up\nto his chin, at which point they stood, and soon began to abate. Hope\nrevived in his heart. He then cast his eyes around the illimitable\nexpanse, and spied a loon. \"Dive down, my brother,\" he said to him,\n\"and fetch up some earth, so that I can make a new earth.\" The bird\nobeyed, but rose up to the surface a lifeless form. He then saw a\nmuskrat. \"Dive!\" said he, \"and if you succeed, you may hereafter live\neither on land or water, as you please; or I will give you a chain of\nbeautiful little lakes, surrounded with rushes, to inhabit.\" He dove\ndown, but floated up senseless. He took the body and breathed in\nhis nostrils, which restored him to life. \"Try again,\" said he. The\nmuskrat did so. He came up senseless the second time, but clutched a\nlittle earth in one of his paws, from which, together with the carcass\nof the dead loon, he created a new earth as large as the former had\nbeen, with all living animals, fowls, and plants.\n\nAs he was walking to survey the new earth, he heard some one singing.\nHe went to the place, and found a female spirit, in the disguise of an\nold woman, singing these words, and crying at every pause:\n\n  \"Ma nau bo sho, O do zheem un,\n  Ogeem au wun, Onis sa waun,\n  Hee-Ub bub ub bub (crying).\n  Dread Hiawatha in revenge,\n  For his grandson lost--\n  Has killed the chief--the king.\"\n\n\"Noko,\" said he, \"what is the matter?\" \"Matter!\" said she, \"where have\nyou been, that you have not heard how Hiawatha shot my son, the Prince\nof serpents, in revenge for the loss of his grandson, and how the\nearth was overflowed, and created anew? So I brought my son here, that\nhe might kill and destroy the inhabitants, as he did on the former\nearth. But,\" she continued, casting a scrutinizing glance, \"N'yau!\nindego Hiawatha! hub! ub! ub! ub! Oh, I am afraid you are Hiawatha!\"\nHe burst out into a laugh to quiet her fears. \"Ha! ha! ha! how can\nthat be? Has not the old world perished, and all that was in it?\"\n\"Impossible! impossible!\" \"But, Noko,\" he continued, \"what do you\nintend doing with all that cedar cord on your back?\" \"Why,\" said she,\n\"I am fixing a snare for Hiawatha, if he should be on this earth; and,\nin the mean time, I am looking for herbs to heal my son. I am the only\nperson that can do him any good. He always gets better when I sing:\n\n  \"'Hiawatha a ne we guawk,\n  Koan dan mau wah, ne we guawk,\n  Koan dan mau wah, ne we guawk,\n     It is Hiawatha's dart,\n  I try my magic power to withdraw.\"\n\nHaving found out, by conversation with her, all he wished, he put her\nto death. He then took off her skin, and assuming this disguise, took\nthe cedar cord on his back, and limped away singing her songs. He\ncompletely aped the gait and voice of the old woman. He was met by one\nwho told him to make haste; that the Prince was worse. At the lodge,\nlimping and muttering, he took notice that they had his grandson's\nhide to hang over the door. \"Oh dogs!\" said he; \"the evil dogs!\" He\nsat down near the door, and commenced sobbing like an aged woman. One\nobserved, \"Why don't you attend the sick, and not sit there making\nsuch a noise?\" He took up the poker and laid it on them, mimicking the\nvoice of the old woman. \"Dogs that you are! why do you laugh at me?\nYou know very well that I am so sorry that I am nearly out of my\nhead.\"\n\nWith that he approached the Prince, singing the songs of the old\nwoman, without exciting any suspicion. He saw that his arrow had gone\nin about one half its length. He pretended to make preparations for\nextracting it, but only made ready to finish his victim; and giving\nthe dart a sudden thrust, he put a period to the Prince's life. He\nperformed this act with the power of a giant, bursting the old woman's\nskin, and at the same moment rushing through the door, the serpents\nfollowing him, hissing and crying out, \"Perfidy! murder! vengeance! it\nis Hiawatha.\" He immediately transformed himself into a wolf, and ran\nover the plain with all his speed, aided by his father the West Wind.\nWhen he got to the mountains he saw a badger. \"Brother,\" said he,\n\"make a hole quick, for the serpents are after me.\" The badger obeyed.\nThey both went in, and the badger threw all the earth backward, so\nthat it filled up the way behind.\n\nThe serpents came to the badger's burrow, and decided to watch, \"We\nwill starve him out,\" said they; so they continue watching. Hiawatha\ntold the badger to make an opening on the other side of the mountain,\nfrom which he could go out and hunt, and bring meat in. Thus they\nlived some time. One day the badger came in his way and displeased\nhim. He immediately put him to death, and threw out his carcass,\nsaying, \"I don't like you to be getting in my way so often.\"\n\nAfter living in this confinement for some time alone, he decided to\ngo out. He immediately did so; and after making the circuit of the\nmountain, came to the corpse of the Prince, who had been deserted by\nthe serpents to pursue his destroyer. He went to work and skinned him.\nHe then drew on his skin, in which there were great virtues, took up\nhis war-club, and set out for the place where he first went in the\nground. He found the serpents still watching. When they saw the form\nof their dead Prince advancing towards them, fear and dread took hold\nof them. Some fled. Those who remained Hiawatha killed. Those who fled\nwent towards the South.\n\nHaving accomplished the victory over the reptiles, Hiawatha returned\nto his former place of dwelling and married the arrow-maker's\ndaughter.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLEGENDARY HEROES OF MANY COUNTRIES\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHEROES OF GREECE AND ROME\n\n\n\n\nPERSEUS\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nPERSEUS AND HIS MOTHER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were two Princes who were twins. They lived\nin a pleasant vale far away in Hellas. They had fruitful meadows and\nvineyards, sheep and oxen, great herds of horses, and all that men\ncould need to make them blest. And yet they were wretched, because\nthey were jealous of each other.\n\nFrom the moment they were born they began to quarrel, and when they\ngrew up, each tried to take away the other's share of the kingdom and\nkeep all for himself.\n\nAnd there came a prophet to one of the hard-hearted Princes and said,\n\"Because you have risen up against your own family, your own family\nshall rise up against you. Because you have sinned against your\nkindred, by your kindred shall you be punished. Your daughter Danae\nshall bear a son, and by that son's hands you shall die. So the gods\nhave said, and it shall surely come to pass.\"\n\nAt that the hard-hearted Prince was very much afraid, but he did not\nmend his ways. For when he became King, he shut up his fair daughter\nDanae in a cavern underground, lined with brass, that no one might come\nnear her. So he fancied himself more cunning than the gods.\n\nNow it came to pass that in time Danae bore a son, so beautiful a babe\nthat any but the King would have had pity on it. But he had no pity,\nfor he took Danae and her babe down to the seashore, and put them into\na great chest and thrust them out to sea, that the winds and the waves\nmight carry them whithersoever they would.\n\nAnd away and out to sea before the northwest wind floated the mother\nand her babe, while all who watched them wept, save that cruel King.\n\nSo they floated on and on, and the chest danced up and down upon the\nbillows, and the babe slept in its mother's arms. But the poor mother\ncould not sleep, but watched and wept, and she sang to her babe as\nthey floated.\n\nNow they are past the last blue headland and in the open sea. There is\nnothing round them but waves, and the sky and the wind. But the waves\nare gentle and the sky is clear, and the breeze is tender and low.\n\nSo a night passed and a day, and a long day it was to Danae, and\nanother night and day beside, till Danae was faint with hunger and\nweeping, and yet no land appeared.\n\nAnd all the while the babe slept quietly, and at last poor Danae\ndrooped her head and fell asleep likewise, with her cheek against her\nbabe's.\n\nAfter a while she was awakened suddenly, for the chest was jarring and\ngrinding, and the air was full of sound. She looked up, and over her\nhead were mighty cliffs, and around her rocks and breakers and flying\nflakes of foam.\n\nShe clasped her hands together and shrieked aloud for help. And when\nshe cried, help met her, for now there came over the rocks a tall and\nstately man, and looked down wondering upon poor Danae, tossing about\nin the chest among the waves.\n\nHe wore a rough cloak, and on his head a broad hat to shade his face,\nand in his hand he carried a trident, which is a three-pronged fork\nfor spearing fish, and over his shoulder was a casting net.\n\n[Illustration: SO DANAE WAS COMFORTED AND WENT HOME WITH DICTYS.]\n\nBut Danae could see that he was no common man by his height and his\nwalk, and his flowing golden hair and beard, and by the two servants\nwho came behind him carrying baskets for his fish.\n\nShe had hardly time to look at him, before he had laid aside his\ntrident and leapt down the rocks, and thrown his casting net so surely\nover Danae and the chest, that he drew it and her and the babe safe\nupon a ledge of rock.\n\nThen the fisherman took Danae by the hand and lifted her out of the\nchest and said, \"O beautiful damsel, what strange chance has brought\nyou to this island in so frail a ship? Who are you, and whence? Surely\nyou are some king's daughter, and this boy belongs to the gods.\"\nAnd as he spoke he pointed to the babe, for its face shone like the\nmorning star.\n\nBut Danae only held down her head and sobbed out, \"Tell me to what land\nI have come, and among what men I have fallen.\"\n\nAnd he said, \"Polydectes is King of this isle, and he is my brother.\nMen call me Dictys the Netter, because I catch the fish of the shore.\"\n\nThen Danae fell down at his feet and embraced his knees and cried, \"O\nSir, have pity upon a stranger, whom cruel doom has driven to your\nland, and let me live in your house as a servant. But treat me\nhonorably, for I was once a king's daughter, and this my boy is of\nno common race. I will not be a charge to you, or eat the bread of\nidleness, for I am more skilful in weaving and embroidery than all the\nmaidens of my land.\"\n\nAnd she was going on, but Dictys stopped her and raised her up and\nsaid, \"My daughter, I am old, and my hairs are growing gray, while I\nhave no children to make my home cheerful. Come with me, then, and you\nshall be a daughter to me and to my wife, and this babe shall be our\ngrandchild.\"\n\nSo Danae was comforted and went home with Dictys, the good fisherman,\nand was a daughter to him and to his wife, till fifteen years were\npast.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHOW PERSEUS VOWED A RASH VOW\n\n\nFifteen years were past and gone, and the babe was now grown to be a\ntall lad and a sailor.\n\nHis mother called him Perseus, but all the people in the isle called\nhim the King of the Immortals.\n\nFor though he was but fifteen, Perseus was taller by a head than\nany man in the island. And he was brave and truthful, and gentle and\ncourteous, for good old Dictys had trained him well, and well it was\nfor Perseus that he had done so. For now Danae and her son fell into\ngreat danger, and Perseus had need of all his strength to defend his\nmother and himself.\n\nPolydectes, the King of the island, was not a good man like his\nbrother Dictys, but he was greedy and cunning and cruel.\n\nAnd when he saw fair Danae, he wanted to marry her. But she would not,\nfor she did not love him, and cared for no one but her boy.\n\nAt last Polydectes became furious, and while Perseus was away at sea,\nhe took poor Danae away from Dictys, saying, \"If you will not be my\nwife, you shall be my slave.\"\n\nSo Danae was made a slave, and had to fetch water from the well, and\ngrind in the mill.\n\nBut Perseus was far away over the seas, little thinking that his\nmother was in great grief and sorrow.\n\nNow one day, while the ship was lading, Perseus wandered into a\npleasant wood to get out of the sun, and sat down on the turf and fell\nasleep. And as he slept a strange dream came to him, the strangest\ndream he had ever had in his life.\n\nThere came a lady to him through the wood, taller than he, or any\nmortal man, but beautiful exceedingly, with great gray eyes, clear and\npiercing, but strangely soft and mild. On her head was a helmet, and\nin her hand a spear. And over her shoulder, above her long blue robes,\nhung a goat-skin, which bore up a mighty shield of brass, polished\nlike a mirror.\n\nShe stood and looked at him with her clear gray eyes. And Perseus\ndropped his eyes, trembling and blushing, as the wonderful lady spoke.\n\"Perseus, you must do an errand for me.\"\n\n\"Who are you, lady? And how do you know my name?\"\n\nThen the strange lady, whose name was Athene, laughed, and held up\nher brazen shield, and cried, \"See here, Perseus, dare you face such\na monster as this and slay it, that I may place its head upon this\nshield?\"\n\nAnd in the mirror of the shield there appeared a face, and as Perseus\nlooked on it his blood ran cold. It was the face of a beautiful woman,\nbut her cheeks were pale, and her lips were thin. Instead of hair,\nvipers wreathed about her temples and shot out their forked tongues,\nand she had claws of brass.\n\nPerseus looked awhile and then said, \"If there is anything so fierce\nand ugly on earth, it were a noble deed to kill it. Where can I find\nthe monster?\"\n\nThen the strange lady smiled again and said, \"You are too young, for\nthis is Medusa the Gorgon. Return to your home, and when you have done\nthe work that awaits you there, you may be worthy to go in search of\nthe monster.\"\n\nPerseus would have spoken, but the strange lady vanished, and he\nawoke, and behold it was a dream.\n\nSo he returned home, and the first thing he heard was that his mother\nwas a slave in the house of Polydectes.\n\nGrinding his teeth with rage, he went out, and away to the King's\npalace, and through the men's rooms and the women's rooms, and so\nthrough all the house, till he found his mother sitting on the floor\nturning the stone hand-mill, and weeping as she turned it.\n\nAnd he lifted her up and kissed her, and bade her follow him forth.\nBut before they could pass out of the room Polydectes came in.\n\nWhen Perseus saw the King, he flew upon him and cried, \"Tyrant! is\nthis thy mercy to strangers and widows? Thou shalt die.\" And because\nhe had no sword he caught up the stone hand-mill, and lifted it to\ndash out Polydectes's brains.\n\nBut his mother clung to him, shrieking, and good Dictys too entreated\nhim to remember that the cruel King was his brother.\n\nThen Perseus lowered his hand, and Polydectes, who had been trembling\nall this while like a coward, let Perseus and his mother pass.\n\nSo Perseus took his mother to the temple of Athene, and there the\npriestess made her one of the temple sweepers. And there they knew\nthat she would be safe, for not even Polydectes would dare to drag her\nout of the temple. And there Perseus and the good Dictys and his wife\ncame to visit her every day.\n\nAs for Polydectes, not being able to get Danae by force, he cast about\nhow he might get her by cunning. He was sure he could never get back\nDanae as long as Perseus was in the island, so he made a plot to get\nrid of him. First he pretended to have forgiven Perseus, and to\nhave forgotten Danae, so that for a while all went smoothly. Next he\nproclaimed a great feast and invited to it all the chiefs and the\nyoung men of the island, and among them Perseus, that they might all\ndo him homage as their King, and eat of his banquet in his hall.\n\nOn the appointed day they all came, and as the custom was then, each\nguest brought with him a present for the King. One brought a horse,\nanother a shawl, or a ring, or a sword, and some brought baskets of\ngrapes, but Perseus brought nothing, for he had nothing to bring,\nbeing only a poor sailor lad.\n\nHe was ashamed, however, to go into the King's presence without a\ngift. So he stood at the door, sorrowfully watching the rich men go\nin, and his face grew very red as they pointed at him and smiled and\nwhispered, \"And what has Perseus to give?\"\n\nPerseus blushed and stammered, while all the proud men round laughed\nand mocked, till the lad grew mad with shame, and hardly knowing what\nhe said, cried out:\n\n\"A present! See if I do not bring a nobler one than all of yours\ntogether!\"\n\n\"Hear the boaster! What is the present to be?\" cried they all,\nlaughing louder than ever.\n\nThen Perseus remembered his strange dream, and he cried aloud, \"The\nhead of Medusa the Gorgon!\"\n\nHe was half afraid after he had said the words, for all laughed louder\nthan ever, and Polydectes loudest of all, while he said:\n\n\"You have promised to bring me the Gorgon's head. Then never appear\nagain in this island without it. Go!\"\n\nPerseus saw that he had fallen into a trap, but he went out without a\nword.\n\nDown to the cliffs he went, and looked across the broad blue sea, and\nwondered if his dream were true.\n\n\"Athene, was my dream true? Shall I slay the Gorgon?\" he prayed.\n\"Rashly and angrily I promised, but wisely and patiently will I\nperform.\"\n\nBut there was no answer nor sign, not even a cloud in the sky.\n\nThree times Perseus called, weeping, \"Rashly and angrily I promised,\nbut wisely and patiently will I perform.\"\n\nThen he saw afar off a small white cloud, as bright as silver. And\nas it touched the cliffs, it broke and parted, and within it appeared\nAthene, and beside her a young man, whose eyes were like sparks of\nfire.\n\nAnd they came swiftly towards Perseus, and he fell down and worshiped,\nfor he knew they were more than mortal.\n\nBut Athene spoke gently to him and bade him have no fear. \"Perseus,\"\nshe said, \"you have braved Polydectes, and done manfully. Dare you\nbrave Medusa the Gorgon?\"\n\nPerseus answered, \"Try me, for since you spoke to me, new courage has\ncome into my soul.\"\n\nAnd Athene said, \"Perseus, this deed requires a seven years' journey,\nin which you cannot turn back nor escape. If your heart fails, you\nmust die, and no man will ever find your bones.\"\n\nAnd Perseus said, \"Tell me, O fair and wise Athene, how I can do but\nthis one thing, and then, if need be, die.\"\n\nThen Athene smiled and said, \"Be patient and listen. You must go\nnorthward till you find the Three Gray Sisters, who have but one eye\nand one tooth amongst them. Ask them the way to the daughters of the\nEvening Star, for they will tell you the way to the Gorgon, that you\nmay slay her. But beware! for her eyes are so terrible that whosoever\nlooks on them is turned to stone.\"\n\n\"How am I to escape her eyes?\" said Perseus; \"will she not freeze me\ntoo?\"\n\n\"You shall take this polished shield,\" said Athene, \"and look, not\nat her herself, but at her image in the shield, so you may strike her\nsafely. And when you have struck off her head, wrap it, with your face\nturned away, in the folds of the goat-skin on which the shield hangs.\nSo you bring it safely back to me and win yourself renown and a place\namong heroes.\"\n\nThen said Perseus, \"I will go, though I die in going. But how shall I\ncross the seas without a ship? And who will show me the way? And how\nshall I slay her, if her scales be iron and brass?\"\n\nBut the young man who was with Athene spoke, \"These sandals of mine\nwill bear you across the seas, and over hill and dale like a bird, as\nthey bear me all day long. The sandals themselves will guide you on\nthe road, for they are divine and cannot stray, and this sword itself\nwill kill her, for it is divine and needs no second stroke. Arise and\ngird them on, and go forth.\"\n\nSo Perseus arose, and girded on the sandals and the sword.\n\nAnd Athene cried, \"Now leap from the cliff and be gone!\"\n\nThen Perseus looked down the cliff and shuddered, but he was ashamed\nto show his dread, and he leaped into the empty air.\n\nAnd behold! instead of falling, he floated, and stood, and ran along\nthe sky.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW PERSEUS SLEW THE GORGON\n\n\nSo Perseus started on his journey, going dryshod over land and sea,\nand his heart was high and joyful, for the sandals bore him each day a\nseven days' journey.\n\nAnd at last by the shore of a freezing sea, beneath the cold winter\nmoon, he found the Three Gray Sisters. There was no living thing\naround them, not a fly, not a moss upon the rocks.\n\nThey passed their one eye each to the other, but for all that they\ncould not see, and they passed the one tooth from one to the other,\nbut for all that they could not eat, and they sat in the full glare of\nthe moon, but they were none the warmer for her beams.\n\nAnd Perseus said, \"Tell me, O Venerable Mothers, the path to the\ndaughters of the Evening Star.\"\n\nThey heard his voice, and then one cried, \"Give me the eye that I may\nsee him,\" and another, \"Give me the tooth that I may bite him,\" but\nthey had no answer for his question.\n\nThen Perseus stepped close to them, and watched as they passed the eye\nfrom hand to hand. And as they groped about, he held out his own hand\ngently, till one of them put the eye into it, fancying that it was the\nhand of her sister.\n\nAt that Perseus sprang back and laughed and cried, \"Cruel old women,\nI have your eye, and I will throw it into the sea, unless you tell me\nthe path to the daughters of the Evening Star and swear to me that you\ntell me right.\"\n\nThen they wept and chattered and scolded, but all in vain. They were\nforced to tell the truth, though when they told it, Perseus could\nhardly make out the way. But he gave them back the eye and leaped away\nto the southward, leaving the snow and ice behind.\n\nAt last he heard sweet voices singing, and he guessed that he was come\nto the garden of the daughters of the Evening Star.\n\nWhen they saw him they trembled and said, \"Are you come to rob our\ngarden and carry off our golden fruit?\"\n\nBut Perseus answered, \"I want none of your golden fruit. Tell me the\nway which leads to the Gorgon that I may go on my way and slay her.\"\n\n\"Not yet, not yet, fair boy,\" they answered, \"come dance with us\naround the trees in the garden.\"\n\n\"I cannot dance with you, fair maidens, so tell me the way to the\nGorgon, lest I wander and perish in the waves.\"\n\nThen they sighed and wept, and answered, \"The Gorgon! She will freeze\nyou into stone.\"\n\nBut Perseus said, \"The gods have lent me weapons, and will give me\nwisdom to use them.\"\n\nThen the fair maidens told him that the Gorgon lived on an island\nfar away, but that whoever went near the island must wear the hat of\ndarkness, so that he could not himself be seen. And one of the fair\nmaidens held in her hand the magic hat.\n\nWhile all the maidens kissed Perseus and wept over him, he was only\nimpatient to be gone. So at last they put the magic hat upon his head,\nand he vanished out of their sight.\n\nAnd Perseus went on boldly, past many an ugly sight, till he heard\nthe rustle of the Gorgons' wings and saw the glitter of their brazen\nclaws. Then he knew that it was time to halt, lest Medusa should\nfreeze him into stone.\n\nHe thought awhile with himself and remembered Athene's words. Then he\nrose into the air, and held the shield above his head and looked up\ninto it, that he might see all that was below him.\n\nAnd he saw three Gorgons sleeping, as huge as elephants. He knew that\nthey could not see him, because the hat of darkness hid him, and yet\nhe trembled as he sank down near them, so terrible were those brazen\nclaws.\n\nMedusa tossed to and fro restlessly in her sleep. Her long neck\ngleamed so white in the mirror that Perseus had not the heart to\nstrike. But as he looked, from among her tresses the vipers' heads\nawoke and peeped up, with their bright dry eyes, and showed their\nfangs and hissed. And Medusa as she tossed showed her brazen claws,\nand Perseus saw that for all her beauty she was as ugly as the others.\n\nThen he came down and stepped to her boldly, and looked steadfastly\non his mirror, and struck with his sword stoutly once, and he did not\nneed to strike again.\n\nHe wrapped the head in the goat-skin, turning away his eyes, and\nsprang into the air aloft, faster than he ever sprang before.\n\nAnd well his brave sandals bore him through cloud and sunshine across\nthe shoreless sea, till he came again to the gardens of the fair\nmaidens.\n\nThen he asked them, \"By what road shall I go homeward again?\"\n\nAnd they wept and cried, \"Go home no more, but stay and play with us,\nthe lonely maidens.\"\n\nBut Perseus refused and leapt down the mountain, and went on like a\nsea-gull, away and out to sea.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHOW PERSEUS MET ANDROMEDA\n\n\nSo Perseus flitted onward to the north-east, over many a league of\nsea, till he came to the rolling sandhills of the desert.\n\nOver the sands he went, he never knew how far nor how long, hoping all\nday to see the blue sparkling Mediterranean, that he might fly across\nit to his home.\n\nBut now came down a mighty wind, and swept him back southward toward\nthe desert. All day long he strove against it, but even the sandals\ncould not prevail. And when morning came there was nothing to be seen,\nsave the same old hateful waste of sand.\n\nAt last the gale fell, and he tried to go northward again, but again\ndown came the sandstorms and swept him back into the desert; and then\nall was calm and cloudless as before.\n\nThen he cried to Athene, \"Shall I never see my mother more, and the\nblue ripple of the sea and the sunny hills of Hellas?\"\n\nSo he prayed, and after he had prayed there was a great silence.\n\nAnd Perseus stood still awhile and waited, and said, \"Surely I am not\nhere but by the will of the gods, for Athene will not lie. Were not\nthese sandals to lead me in the right road?\"\n\nThen suddenly his ears were opened and he heard the sound of running\nwater. And Perseus laughed for joy, and leapt down the cliff and drank\nof the cool water, and ate of the dates, and slept on the turf, and\nleapt up and went forward again, but not toward the north this time.\n\nFor he said, \"Surely Athene hath sent me hither, and will not have me\ngo homeward yet. What if there be another noble deed to be done before\nI see the sunny hills of Hellas?\"\n\nSo Perseus flew along the shore above the sea, and at the dawn of a\nday he looked towards the cliffs. At the water's edge, under a black\nrock, he saw a white image stand.\n\n\"This,\" thought he, \"must surely be the statue of some sea-god. I will\ngo near and see.\"\n\nAnd he came near, but when he came it was no statue he found, but a\nmaiden of flesh and blood, for he could see her tresses streaming in\nthe breeze. And as he came closer still, he could see how she shrank\nand shivered when the waves sprinkled her with cold salt spray.\n\nHer arms were spread above her head and fastened to the rock with\nchains of brass, and her head drooped either with sleep or weariness\nor grief. But now and then she looked up and wailed, and called her\nmother.\n\nYet she did not see Perseus, for the cap of darkness was on his head.\n\nIn his heart pity and indignation, Perseus drew near and looked upon\nthe maid. Her cheeks were darker than his, and her hair was blue-black\nlike a hyacinth.\n\nPerseus thought, \"I have never seen so beautiful a maiden, no, not in\nall our isles. Surely she is a king's daughter. She is too fair, at\nleast, to have done any wrong. I will speak to her,\" and, lifting the\nmagic hat from his head, he flashed into her sight. She shrieked with\nterror, but Perseus cried, \"Do not fear me, fair one. What cruel men\nhave bound you? But first I will set you free.\"\n\nAnd he tore at the fetters, but they were too strong for him, while\nthe maiden cried, \"Touch me not. I am a victim for the sea-gods. They\nwill slay you if you dare to set me free.\"\n\n\"Let them try,\" said Perseus, and drawing his sword he cut through the\nbrass as if it had been flax.\n\n\"Now,\" he said, \"you belong to me, and not to these sea-gods,\nwhosoever they may be.\"\n\nBut she only called the more on her mother. Then he clasped her in his\narms, and cried, \"Where are these sea-gods, cruel and unjust, who doom\nfair maids to death? Let them measure their strength against mine. But\ntell me, maiden, who you are, and what dark fate brought you here.\"\n\nAnd she answered, weeping, \"I am the daughter of a King, and my mother\nis the Queen with the beautiful tresses, and they call me Andromeda.\nI stand here to atone for my mother's sin, for she boasted of me once\nthat I was fairer than the Queen of the Fishes. So she in her wrath\nsent the sea-floods and wasted all the land. And now I must be\ndevoured by a sea-monster to atone for a sin which I never committed.\"\n\nBut Perseus laughed and said, \"A sea-monster! I have fought with worse\nthan he.\"\n\nAndromeda looked up at him, and new hope was kindled in her heart, so\nproud and fair did he stand, with one hand round her, and in the other\nthe glittering sword.\n\nBut still she sighed and said, \"Why will you die, young as you are? Go\nyou your way, I must go mine.\"\n\nPerseus cried, \"Not so: I slew the Gorgon by the help of the gods, and\nnot without them do I come hither to slay this monster, with that same\nGorgon's head. Yet hide your eyes when I leave you, lest the sight of\nit freeze you too to stone.\"\n\nBut the maiden answered nothing, for she could not believe his words.\n\nThen suddenly looking up, she pointed to the sea and shrieked, \"There\nhe comes with the sunrise as they said. I must die now. Oh go!\" And\nshe tried to thrust him away.\n\nAnd Perseus said, \"I go, yet promise me one thing ere I go,--that if\nI slay this beast you will be my wife and come back with me to my\nkingdom, for I am a King's son. Promise me, and seal it with a kiss.\"\n\nThen she lifted up her face and kissed him, and Perseus laughed for\njoy and flew upward, while Andromeda crouched trembling on the rock.\n\nOn came the great sea-monster, lazily breasting the ripple and\nstopping at times by creek or headland. His great sides were fringed\nwith clustering shells and seaweeds, and the water gurgled in and out\nof his wide jaws as he rolled along. At last he saw Andromeda and shot\nforward to take his prey.\n\nThen down from the height of the air fell Perseus like a shooting\nstar, down to the crests of the waves, while Andromeda hid her face as\nhe shouted, and then there was silence for a while.\n\nWhen at last she looked up trembling, Andromeda saw Perseus springing\ntowards her, and instead of the monster, a long black rock, with the\nsea rippling quietly round it.\n\nWho then so proud as Perseus, as he leapt back to the rock and lifted\nhis fair Andromeda in his arms and flew with her to the cliff-top, as\na falcon carries a dove! Who so proud as Perseus, and who so joyful as\nthe people of the land!\n\nAnd the King and the Queen came, and all the people came with songs\nand dances to receive Andromeda back again, as one alive from the\ndead.\n\nThen the King said to Perseus, \"Hero of the Hellens, stay here with me\nand be my son-in-law, and I will give you the half of my kingdom.\"\n\n\"I will be your son-in-law,\" said Perseus, \"but of your kingdom will I\nhave none, for I long after the pleasant land of Greece, and my mother\nwho waits for me at home.\"\n\nThen said the King, \"You must not take my daughter away at once, for\nshe is to us as one alive from the dead. Stay with us here a year, and\nafter that you shall return with honor.\"\n\nAnd Perseus consented, but before he went to the palace he bade the\npeople bring stones and wood and build an altar to Athene, and there\nhe offered bullocks and rams. Then they made a great wedding feast,\nwhich lasted seven whole days.\n\nBut on the eighth night Perseus dreamed a dream. He saw standing\nbeside him Athene as he had seen her seven long years before, and she\nstood and called him by name, and said, \"Perseus, you have played\nthe man, and see, you have your reward. Now give me the sword and the\nsandals, and the hat of darkness, that I may give them back to those\nto whom they belong. But the Gorgon's head you shall keep a while, for\nyou will need it in your land of Hellas.\"\n\nAnd Perseus rose to give her the sword, and the cap, and the sandals,\nbut he woke and his dream vanished away. Yet it was not altogether a\ndream, for the goat-skin with the head was in its place, but the sword\nand the cap and the sandals were gone, and Perseus never saw them\nmore.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nHOW PERSEUS CAME HOME AGAIN\n\n\nWhen a year was ended, Perseus rowed away in a noble galley, and in\nit he put Andromeda and all her dowry of jewels and rich shawls and\nspices from the East, and great was the weeping when they rowed away.\n\nAnd when Perseus reached the land, of Hellas he left his galley on the\nbeach, and went up as of old. He embraced his mother and Dictys, and\nthey wept over each other, for it was seven years and more since they\nhad parted.\n\nThen Perseus went out and up to the hall of Polydectes, and underneath\nthe goat-skin he bore the Gorgon's head.\n\nWhen he came to the hall, Polydectes sat at the table, and all his\nnobles on either side, feasting on fish and goats' flesh, and drinking\nblood-red wine.\n\nPerseus stood upon the threshold and called to the King by name. But\nnone of the guests knew the stranger, for he was changed by his long\njourney. He had gone out a boy, and he was come home a hero.\n\nBut Polydectes the Wicked, knew him, and scornfully he called, \"Ah,\nfoundling! have you found it more easy to promise than to fulfil?\"\n\n\"Those whom the gods help fulfil their promises,\" said Perseus, as\nhe drew back the goat-skin and held aloft the Gorgon's head, saying,\n\"Behold!\"\n\nPale grew Polydectes and his guests as they looked upon that dreadful\nface. They tried to rise from their seats, but from their seats they\nnever rose, but stiffened, each man where he sat, into a ring of cold\ngray stones.\n\nThen Perseus turned and left them, and went down to his galley in\nthe bay. He gave the kingdom to good Dictys, and sailed away with his\nmother and his bride. And Perseus rowed westward till he came to his\nold home, and there he found that his grandfather had fled.\n\nThe heart of Perseus yearned after his grandfather, and he said,\n\"Surely he will love me now that I am come home with honor. I will go\nand find him and bring him back, and we will reign together in peace.\"\n\nSo Perseus sailed away, and at last he came to the land where his\ngrandfather dwelt, and all the people were in the fields, and there\nwas feasting and all kinds of games.\n\nThen Perseus did not tell his name, but went up to the games unknown,\nfor he said, \"If I carry away the prize in the games, my grandfather's\nheart will be softened towards me.\"\n\nAnd when the games began, Perseus was the best of all at running and\nleaping, and wrestling and throwing. And he won four crowns and took\nthem.\n\nThen he said to himself, \"There is a fifth crown to be won. I will win\nthat also, and lay them all upon the knees of my grandfather.\"\n\nSo he took the stones and hurled them five fathoms beyond all the\nrest. And the people shouted, \"There has never been such a hurler in\nthis land!\"\n\nAgain Perseus put out all his strength and hurled. But a gust of wind\ncame from the sea and carried the quoit aside, far beyond all the\nrest. And it fell on the foot of his grandfather, and he swooned away\nwith the pain.\n\nPerseus shrieked and ran up to him, but when they lifted the old man\nup, he was dead. Then Perseus rent his clothes and cast dust on his\nhead, and wept a long while for his grandfather.\n\nAt last he rose and called to all people aloud and said, \"The gods are\ntrue: what they have ordained must be; I am Perseus the grandson\nof this dead man.\" Then he told them how a prophet had said that he\nshould kill his grandfather.\n\nSo they made great mourning for the old King, and burnt him on a right\nrich pile.\n\nAnd Perseus went to the temple and was purified from the guilt of his\ndeath, because he had done it unknowingly.\n\nThen he went home and reigned well with Andromeda, and they had four\nsons and three daughters.\n\nAnd when they died, the ancients say that Athene took them up to the\nsky. All night long Perseus and Andromeda shine as a beacon for\nwandering sailors, but all day long they feast with the gods, on the\nstill blue peaks in the home of the Immortals.\n\n\n\n\nODYSSEUS\n\nADAPTED BY JEANIE LANG\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nHOW ODYSSEUS LEFT TROYLAND AND SAILED FOR HIS KINGDOM PAST THE LAND OF\nTHE LOTUS EATERS\n\n\nIn the days of long ago there reigned over Ithaca, a rugged little\nisland in the sea to the west of Greece, a King whose name was\nOdysseus.\n\nOdysseus feared no man. Stronger and braver than other men was he,\nwiser, and more full of clever devices. Far and wide he was known as\nOdysseus of the many counsels. Wise, also, was his Queen, Penelope,\nand she was as fair as she was wise, and as good as she was fair.\n\nWhile their only child, a boy named Telemachus, was still a baby,\nthere was a very great war in Troyland, a country far across the sea.\n\nThe brother of the overlord of all Greece beseiged Troy, and the kings\nand princes of his land came to help him. Many came from afar, but\nnone from a more distant kingdom than Odysseus. Wife and child and old\nfather he left behind him and sailed away with his black-prowed ships\nto fight in Troyland.\n\nFor ten years the siege of Troy went on, and of the heroes who fought\nthere, none was braver than Odysseus. Clad as a beggar he went into\nthe city and found out much to help the Greek armies. With his long\nsword he fought his way out again, and left many of the men of Troy\nlying dead behind him. And many other brave feats did Odysseus do.\n\nAfter long years of fighting, Troy at last was taken. With much rich\nplunder the besiegers sailed homewards, and Odysseus set sail for his\nrocky island, with its great mountain, and its forests of trembling\nleaves.\n\nOf gladness and of longing his heart was full. With a great love he\nloved his fair wife and little son and old father, and his little\nkingdom by the sea was very dear to him.\n\n\"I can see nought beside sweeter than a man's own country,\" he said.\nVery soon he hoped to see his dear land again, but many a long and\nweary day was to pass ere Odysseus came home.\n\nOdysseus was a warrior, and always he would choose to fight rather\nthan to be at peace.\n\nAs he sailed on his homeward way, winds drove his ships near the\nshore. He and his company landed, sacked the nearest city, and slew\nthe people. Much rich plunder they took, but ere they could return to\ntheir ships, a host of people came from inland. In the early morning,\nthick as leaves and flowers in the spring they came, and fell upon\nOdysseus and his men.\n\nAll day they fought, but as the sun went down the people of the land\nwon the fight. Back to their ships went Odysseus and his men. Out of\neach ship were six men slain. While they were yet sad at heart and\nweary from the fight, a terrible tempest arose.\n\nLand and sea were blotted out, the ships were driven headlong, and\ntheir sails were torn to shreds by the might of the storm. For two\ndays and two nights the ships were at the mercy of the tempests. At\ndawn on the third day, the storm passed away, and Odysseus and his men\nset up their masts and hoisted their white sails, and drove homeward\nbefore the wind.\n\nSo he would have come safely to his own country, but a strong current\nand a fierce north wind swept the ships from their course. For nine\ndays were they driven far from their homeland, across the deep sea.\n\nOn the tenth day they reached the Land of the Lotus Eaters. The\ndwellers in that land fed on the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus\nflower. Those who ate the lotus ceased to remember that there was a\npast or a future. All duties they forgot, and all sadness. All day\nlong they would sit and dream and dream idle, happy dreams that never\nended.\n\nHere Odysseus and his men landed and drew water. Three of his warriors\nOdysseus sent into the country to see what manner of men dwelt there.\nTo them the Lotus Eaters gave their honey-sweet food, and no sooner\nhad each man eaten than he had no wish ever to return to the ships. He\nlonged for ever to stay in that pleasant land, eating the lotus fruit,\nand dreaming the happy hours away.\n\nBack to the ships Odysseus dragged the unwilling men, weeping that\nthey must leave so much joy behind. Beneath the benches of his ship he\ntightly bound them, and swiftly he made his ships sail from the shore,\nlest yet others of his company might eat of the lotus and forget their\nhomes and their kindred.\n\nSoon they had all embarked, and, with heavy hearts, the men of Ithaca\nsmote the gray sea-water with their long oars, and sped away from the\nland of forgetfulness and of sweet day-dreams.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHOW ODYSSEUS CAME TO THE LAND OF THE CYCLOPES, AND HIS ADVENTURES\nTHERE\n\n\nOn and on across the waves sailed the dark-prowed ships of Odysseus,\nuntil again they came to land.\n\nIt was the Land of the Cyclopes, a savage and lawless people, who\nnever planted, nor plowed, nor sowed, and whose fields yet gave them\nrich harvests of wheat and of barley, and vines with heavy clusters of\ngrapes. In deep caves, high up on the hills, these people dwelt, and\neach man ruled his own wife and children, but himself knew no ruler.\n\nOutside the harbor of the Land of the Cyclopes lay a thickly wooded\nisland. No hunters went there, for the Cyclopes owned neither ships\nnor boats, so that many goats roamed unharmed through the woods and\ncropped the fresh green grass.\n\nIt was a green and pleasant land. Rich meadows stretched down to the\nsea, the vines grew strong and fruitful, and there was a fair harbor\nwhere ships might be run right on to the beach. At the head of the\nharbor was a well of clear water flowing out of a cave, and with\npoplars growing around it. Thither Odysseus directed his ships. It was\ndark night, with no moon to guide, and mist lay deep on either side,\nyet they passed the breakers and rolling surf without knowing it, and\nanchored safely on the beach.\n\nAll night they slept, and when rosy dawn came they explored the island\nand slew with their bows and long spears many of the wild goats of the\nwoods.\n\nAll the livelong day Odysseus and his men sat and feasted. As they ate\nand drank, they looked across the water at the Land of the Cyclopes,\nwhere the smoke of wood fires curled up to the sky, and from whence\nthey could hear the sound of men's voices and the bleating of\nsheep and goats. When darkness fell, they lay down to sleep on the\nsea-beach, and when morning dawned Odysseus called his men together\nand said to them: \"Stay here, all the rest of you, my dear companions,\nbut I will go with my own ship and my ship's company and see what kind\nof men are those who dwell in this land across the harbor.\"\n\nSo saying, he climbed into his ship, and his men rowed him across to\nthe Land of the Cyclopes. When they were near the shore they saw a\ngreat cave by the sea. It was roofed in with green laurel boughs and\nseemed to be meant for a fold to shelter sheep and goats. Round about\nit a high outer wall was firmly built with stones, and with tall and\nleafy pines and oak-trees.\n\nIn this cave, all alone with his flocks and herds, dwelt a huge and\nhideous one-eyed giant. Polyphemus was his name, and his father was\nPoseidon, god of the sea.\n\nTaking twelve of his best men with him, Odysseus left the others to\nguard the ship and sallied forth to the giant's cave. With him he\ncarried a goat-skin full of precious wine, dark red, and sweet and\nstrong, and a large sack of corn.\n\nSoon they came to the cave, but Polyphemus was not there. He had taken\noff his flocks to graze in the green meadows, leaving behind him in\nthe cave folds full of lambs and kids. The walls of the cave were\nlined with cheeses, and there were great pans full of whey, and giant\nbowls full of milk.\n\n\"Let us first of all take the cheeses,\" said the men of Odysseus to\ntheir King, \"and carry them to the ships. Then let us return and drive\nall the kids and lambs from their folds down to the shore, and sail\nwith them in our swift ships homeward over the sea.\"\n\nBut Odysseus would not listen to what they said. He was too great\nhearted to steal into the cave like a thief and take away the giant's\ngoods without first seeing whether Polyphemus might not treat him as\na friend, receiving from him the corn and wine he had brought, and\ngiving him gifts in return.\n\nSo they kindled a fire, and dined on some of the cheeses, and sat\nwaiting for the giant to return.\n\nTowards evening he came, driving his flocks before him, and carrying\non his back a huge load of firewood, which he cast down on the floor\nwith such a thunderous noise that Odysseus and his men fled in fear\nand hid themselves in the darkest corners of the cave. When he had\ndriven his sheep inside, Polyphemus lifted from the ground a rock so\nhuge that two-and-twenty four-wheeled wagons could not have borne it,\nand with it blocked the doorway. Then, sitting down, he milked the\newes and bleating goats, and placed the lambs and kids each beside its\nown mother.\n\nHalf of the milk he curdled and placed in wicker baskets to make into\ncheeses, and the other half he left in great pails to drink when he\nshould have supper. When all this was done, he kindled a fire, and\nwhen the flames had lit up the dark-walled cave he spied Odysseus and\nhis men.\n\n\"Strangers, who are ye?\" he asked, in his great, rumbling voice.\n\"Whence sail ye over the watery ways? Are ye merchants? or are ye\nsea-robbers who rove over the sea, risking your own lives and bringing\nevil to other men?\"\n\nThe sound of the giant's voice, and his hideous face filled the hearts\nof the men with terror, but Odysseus made answer: \"From Troy we\ncome, seeking our home, but driven hither by winds and waves. Men of\nAgamemnon, the renowned and most mightily victorious Greek general,\nare we, yet to thee we come and humbly beg for friendship.\"\n\nAt this the giant, who had nothing but cruelty in his heart, mocked at\nOdysseus.\n\n\"Thou art a fool,\" said he, \"and I shall not spare either thee or thy\ncompany. But tell me where thou didst leave thy good ship? Was it near\nhere, or at the far end of the island?\"\n\nBut Odysseus of the many counsels knew that the giant asked the\nquestion only to bring evil on the men who stayed by the ship, and so\nhe answered: \"My ship was broken in pieces by the storm and cast up on\nthe rocks on the shore, but I, with these my men, escaped from death.\"\n\nNot one word said Polyphemus in reply, but sprang up, clutched hold of\ntwo of the men, and dashed their brains out on the stone floor. Then\nhe cut them up, and made ready his supper, eating the two men, bones\nand all, as if he had been a starving lion, and taking great draughts\nof the milk from the giant pails. When his meal was done, he stretched\nhimself on the ground beside his sheep and goats, and slept.\n\nIn helpless horror Odysseus and his men had watched the dreadful\nsight, but when the monster slept they began to make plans for their\nescape. At first Odysseus thought it might be best to take his sharp\nsword and stab Polyphemus in the breast. But then he knew that even\nwere he thus to slay the giant, he and his men must die. For strength\nwas not left them to roll away the rock from the cave's mouth, and so\nthey must perish like rats in a trap.\n\nAll night they thought what they should do, but could think of nought\nthat would avail, and so they could only moan in their bitterness of\nheart and wait for the dawn. When dawn's rosy fingers touched the sky,\nPolyphemus awoke. He kindled a fire, and milked his flocks, and gave\neach ewe her lamb. When this work was done he snatched yet other two\nmen, dashed their brains out, and made of them his morning meal. After\nthe meal, he lifted the stone from the door, drove the flocks out, and\nset the stone back again. Then, with a loud shout, he turned his sheep\nand goats towards the hills and left Odysseus and his remaining eight\nmen imprisoned in the cave, plotting and planning how to get away, and\nhow to avenge the death of their comrades.\n\nAt last Odysseus thought of a plan. By the sheepfold there lay a huge\nclub of green olive wood that Polyphemus had cut and was keeping\nuntil it should be dry enough to use as a staff. So huge was it\nthat Odysseus and his men likened it to the mast of a great merchant\nvessel. From this club Odysseus cut a large piece and gave it to his\nmen to fine down and make even. While they did this, Odysseus himself\nsharpened it to a point and hardened the point in the fire. When it\nwas ready, they hid it amongst the rubbish on the floor of the cave.\nThen Odysseus made his men draw lots who should help him to lift this\nbar and drive it into the eye of the giant as he slept, and the lot\nfell upon the four men that Odysseus would himself have chosen.\n\nIn the evening Polyphemus came down from the hills with his flocks and\ndrove them all inside the cave. Then he lifted the great doorstone and\nblocked the doorway, milked the ewes and goats, and gave each lamb and\nkid to its mother. This done, he seized other two of the men, dashed\nout their brains, and made ready his supper.\n\nFrom the shadows of the cave Odysseus now stepped forward, bearing in\nhis hands an ivy bowl, full of the dark red wine.\n\n\"Drink wine after thy feast of men's flesh,\" said Odysseus, \"and see\nwhat manner of drink this was that our ship held.\"\n\nPolyphemus grasped the bowl, gulped down the strong wine, and smacked\nhis great lips over its sweetness.\n\n\"Give me more,\" he cried, \"and tell me thy name straightway, that I\nmay give thee a gift. Mighty clusters of grapes do the vines of our\nland bear for us, but this is a rill of very nectar and ambrosia.\"\n\nAgain Odysseus gave him the bowl full of wine, and yet again, until\nthe strong wine went to the giant's head and made him stupid.\n\nThen said Odysseus: \"Thou didst ask me my name, and didst say that\nthou wouldst give me a gift. Noman is my name, and Noman they call me,\nmy father and mother and all my fellows.\"\n\nThen answered the giant out of his pitiless heart: \"I will eat thy\nfellows first, Noman, and thee the last of all. That shall be thy\ngift.\"\n\nSoon the wine made him so sleepy that he sank backwards with his great\nface upturned and fell fast asleep.\n\nAs soon as the giant slept, Odysseus thrust into the fire the stake he\nhad prepared, and made it red hot, all the while speaking cheerfully\nand comfortingly to his men. When it was so hot that the wood, green\nthough it was, began to blaze, they drew it out and thrust it into\nthe giant's eye. Round and round they whirled the fiery pike, as a\nman bores a hole in a plank, until the blood gushed out, and the eye\nfrizzled and hissed, and the flames singed and burned the eyelids, and\nthe eye was burned out. With a great and terrible cry the giant sprang\nto his feet, and Odysseus and the others fled from before him. From\nhis eye he dragged the blazing pike, all dripping with his blood, and\ndashed it to the ground. Then, maddened with pain, he called with a\ngreat and terrible cry on the other Cyclopes, who dwelt in their caves\non the hill-tops round which the wind swept. The giants, hearing his\nhorrid yells, rushed to help him.\n\n\"What ails thee, Polyphemus?\" they asked. \"Why dost thou cry aloud\nin the night and awake us from our sleep? Surely no one stealeth thy\nflocks? None slayeth thee by force or by craft.\"\n\nFrom the other side of the great stone moaned Polyphemus: \"Noman is\nslaying me by craft.\"\n\nThen the Cyclopes said: \"If no man is hurting thee, then indeed it\nmust be a sickness that makes thee cry so loud, and this thou must\nbear, for we cannot help.\"\n\nWith that they strode away from the cave and left the blind giant\ngroaning and raging with pain. Groping with his hands, he found the\ngreat stone that blocked the door, lifted it away, and sat himself\ndown in the mouth of the cave, with his arms stretched out, hoping\nto catch Odysseus and his men if they should try to escape. Sitting\nthere, he fell asleep, and, as soon as he slept, Odysseus planned and\nplotted how best to win freedom.\n\nThe rams of the giant's flocks were great strong beasts, with fleeces\nthick and woolly, and as dark as the violet. With twisted slips of\nwillow Odysseus lashed every three of them together, and under the\nmiddle ram of each three he bound one of his men. For himself he\nkept the best ram of the flock, young and strong, and with a fleece\nwonderfully thick and shaggy. Underneath this ram Odysseus curled\nhimself, and clung, face upwards, firmly grasping the wool with his\nhands. In this wise did he and his men wait patiently for the dawn.\n\nWhen rosy dawn came, the ewes in the pens bleated to be milked and the\nrams hastened out to the hills and green meadows. As each sheep passed\nhim, Polyphemus felt along its back, but never guessed that the six\nremaining men of Odysseus were bound beneath the thick-fleeced rams.\nLast of all came the young ram to which Odysseus clung, moving slowly,\nfor his fleece was heavy, and Odysseus whom he bore was heavier still.\nOn the ram's back Polyphemus laid his great hands. \"Dear ram,\" said\nhe, \"once wert thou the very first to lead the flocks from the cave,\nthe first to nibble the tender buds of the pasture, the first to find\nout the running streams, and the first to come home when evening fell.\nBut to-day thou art the very last to go. Surely thou art sorrowful\nbecause the wicked Noman hath destroyed my eye. I would thou couldst\nspeak and tell me where Noman is hidden. Then should I seize him and\ngladly dash out his brains on the floor of the cave.\"\n\nVery, very still lay Odysseus while the giant spoke, but the ram\nslowly walked on past the savage giant, towards the meadows near the\nsea. Soon it was far enough from the cave for Odysseus to let go his\nhold and to stand up. Quickly he loosened the bonds of the others, and\nswiftly then they drove the rams down to the shore where their ship\nlay. Often they looked round, expecting to see Polyphemus following\nthem, but they safely reached the ship and got a glad welcome from\ntheir friends, who rejoiced over them, but would have wept over the\nmen that the cannibal giant had slain.\n\n\"There is no time to weep,\" said Odysseus, and he made his men hasten\non board the ship, driving the sheep before them.\n\nSoon they were all on board, and the gray sea-water was rushing off\ntheir oars, as they sailed away from the land of the Cyclopes.\n\nBut before they were out of sight of land, the bold Odysseus lifted up\nhis voice and shouted across the water:\n\n\"Hear me, Polyphemus, thou cruel monster! Thine evil deeds were very\nsure to find thee out. Thou hast been punished because thou hadst no\nshame to eat the strangers who came to thee as thy guests!\"\n\nThe voice of Odysseus rang across the waves, and reached Polyphemus as\nhe sat in pain at the mouth of his cave.\n\nIn a fury the giant sprang up, broke off the peak of a great hill\nand cast it into the sea, where it fell just in front of the ship of\nOdysseus.\n\nSo huge a splash did the vast rock give, that the sea heaved up and\nthe backwash of the water drove the ship right to the shore.\n\nOdysseus snatched up a long pole and pushed the ship off once more.\nSilently he motioned to the men to row hard, and save themselves and\ntheir ship from the angry giant. When they were once more out at sea,\nOdysseus wished again to mock Polyphemus.\n\nIn vain his men begged him not to provoke a monster so mighty that he\ncould crush their heads and the timbers of their ship with one cast of\na stone. Once more Odysseus shouted across the water:\n\n\"Polyphemus, if any one shall ask thee who blinded thee, tell them it\nwas Odysseus of Ithaca.\"\n\nThen moaned the giant:\n\n\"Once, long ago, a soothsayer told me that Odysseus should make me\nblind. But ever I looked for the coming of a great and gallant hero,\nand now there hath come a poor feeble, little dwarf, who made me weak\nwith wine before he dared to touch me.\"\n\nThen he begged Odysseus to come back, and said he would treat him\nkindly, and told him that he knew that his own father, the god of the\nsea, would give him his sight again.\n\n\"Never more wilt thou have thy sight,\" mocked Odysseus; \"thy father\nwill never heal thee.\"\n\nThen Polyphemus, stretching out his hands, and looking up with his\nsightless eye to the starry sky, called aloud to Poseidon, god of the\nsea, to punish Odysseus.\n\n\"If he ever reaches his own country,\" he cried, \"let him come late\nand in an evil case, with all his own company lost, and in the ship of\nstrangers, and let him find sorrows in his own house.\"\n\nNo answer came from Poseidon, but the god of the sea heard his son's\nprayer.\n\nWith all his mighty force Polyphemus then cast at the ship a rock far\ngreater than the first. It all but struck the end of the rudder, but\nthe huge waves that surged up from it bore on the ship, and carried it\nto the further shore.\n\nThere they found the men with the other ships waiting in sorrow and\ndread, for they feared that the giants had killed Odysseus and his\ncompany. Gladly they drove the rams of Polyphemus on to the land, and\nthere feasted together until the sun went down.\n\nAll night they slept on the sea beach, and at rosy dawn Odysseus\ncalled to his men to get into their ships and loose the hawsers.\nSoon they had pushed off, and were thrusting their oars into the gray\nsea-water.\n\nTheir hearts were sore, because they had lost six gallant men of their\ncompany, yet they were glad as men saved from death.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW ODYSSEUS MET WITH CIRCE, THE SIRENS, AND CALYPSO\n\n\nAcross the seas sailed Odysseus and his men till they came to an\nisland where lived AEolus the keeper of the winds. When Odysseus again\nset sail, AEolus gave him a great leather bag in which he had placed\nall the winds except the wind of the west. His men thought the bag to\nbe full of gold and silver, so, while Odysseus slept they loosened the\nsilver thong, and, with a mighty gust all the winds rushed out driving\nthe ship far away from their homeland.\n\nEre long they reached another island, where dwelt a great enchantress,\nCirce of the golden tresses, whose palace Eurylochus discovered.\nWithin they heard Circe singing, so they called to her and she came\nforth and bade them enter. Heedlessly they followed her, all but\nEurylochus. Then Circe smote them with her magic wand and they were\nturned into swine.\n\nWhen Odysseus heard what had befallen his men he was very angry and\nwould have slain her with his sword. But Circe cried: \"Sheathe thy\nsword, I pray thee, Odysseus, and let us be at peace.\" Then said\nOdysseus: \"How can I be at peace with thee, Circe? How can I trust\nthee?\" Then Circe promised to do Odysseus no harm, and to let him\nreturn in safety to his home.\n\nThen she opened the doors of the sty and waved her wand. And the swine\nbecame men again even handsomer and stronger than before.\n\nFor a whole year Odysseus and his men stayed in the palace, feasting\nand resting. When they at last set sail again the sorceress told\nOdysseus of many dangers he would meet on his homeward voyage, and\nwarned him how to escape from them.\n\nIn an island in the blue sea through which the ship of Odysseus would\nsail toward home, lived some beautiful mermaids called Sirens. Even\nmore beautiful than the Sirens' faces were their lovely voices by\nwhich they lured men to go on shore and there slew them. In the\nflowery meadows were the bones of the foolish sailors who had seen\nonly the lovely faces and long, golden hair of the Sirens, and had\nlost their hearts to them.\n\nAgainst these mermaids Circe had warned Odysseus, and he repeated her\nwarnings to his men.\n\nFollowing her advice he filled the ears of the men with wax and bade\nthem bind him hand and foot to the mast.\n\nPast the island drove the ship, and the Sirens seeing it began their\nsweet song. \"Come hither, come hither, brave Odysseus,\" they sang.\nThen Odysseus tried to make his men unbind him, but Eurylochus and\nanother bound him yet more tightly to the mast.\n\nWhen the island was left behind, the men took the wax from their ears\nand unbound their captain. After passing the Wandering Rocks with\ntheir terrible sights and sounds the ship came to a place of great\nperil. Beyond them were yet two huge rocks between which the sea\nswept.\n\nOne of these ran up to the sky, and in this cliff was a dark cave in\nwhich lived Scylla a horrible monster, who, as the ship passed seized\nsix of the men with her six dreadful heads.\n\nIn the cliff opposite lived another terrible creature called Charybdis\nwho stirred the sea to a fierce whirlpool.\n\nBy a strong wind the ship was driven into this whirlpool, but Odysseus\nescaped on a broken piece of wreckage to the shores of an island.\n\nOn this island lived Calypso of the braided tresses, a goddess feared\nby all men. But, to Odysseus she was very kind and he soon became as\nstrong as ever.\n\n\"Stay with me, and thou shalt never grow old and never die,\" said\nCalypso.\n\nA great homesickness had seized Odysseus, but no escape came for eight\nyears. Then Athene begged the gods to help him. They called on Hermes,\nwho commanded Calypso to let him go. She wanted him to stay with her\nbut promised to send him away. She told him to make a raft which she\nwould furnish with food and clothing for his need.\n\nHe set out and in eighteen days saw the land of the Phaeacians appear.\nBut when safety seemed near, Poseidon, the sea-god, returned from his\nwanderings and would have destroyed him had it not been that a fair\nsea-nymph gave him her veil to wind around his body. This he did and\nfinally reached the shore.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHOW ODYSSEUS MET WITH NAUSICAA\n\n\nIn the land of the Phaeacians there dwelt no more beautiful, nor any\nsweeter maiden, than the King's own daughter. Nausicaa was her name,\nand she was so kind and gentle that every one loved her.\n\nTo the land of the Phaeacians the north wind had driven Odysseus, and\nwhile he lay asleep in his bed of leaves under the olive-trees, the\ngoddess Athene went to the room in the palace where Nausicaa slept,\nand spoke to her in her dreams.\n\n\"Some day thou wilt marry, Nausicaa,\" she said, \"and it is time\nfor thee to wash all the fair raiment that is one day to be thine.\nTo-morrow thou must ask the King, thy father, for mules and for a\nwagon, and drive from the city to a place where all the rich clothing\nmay be washed and dried.\"\n\nWhen morning came Nausicaa remembered her dream, and went to tell her\nfather.\n\nHer mother was sitting spinning yarn of sea-purple stain, and her\nfather was just going to a council meeting.\n\n\"Father, dear,\" said the Princess, \"couldst thou lend me a high wagon\nwith strong wheels, that I may take all my fair linen to the river\nto wash. All yours, too, I shall take, so that thou shalt go to the\ncouncil in linen that is snowy clean, and I know that my five brothers\nwill also be glad if I wash their fine clothing for them.\"\n\nThis she said, for she felt too shy to tell her father what Athene had\nsaid about her getting married.\n\nBut the King knew well why she asked. \"I do not grudge thee mules,\nnor anything else, my child,\" he said. \"Go, bid the servants prepare a\nwagon.\"\n\nThe servants quickly got ready the finest wagon that the King had, and\nharnessed the best of the mules. And Nausicaa's mother filled a basket\nwith all the dainties that she knew her daughter liked best, so that\nNausicaa and her maidens might feast together. The fine clothes were\npiled into the wagon, the basket of food was placed carefully beside\nthem, and Nausicaa climbed in, took the whip and shining reins, and\ntouched the mules. Then with clatter of hoofs they started.\n\nWhen they were come to the beautiful, clear river, amongst whose reeds\nOdysseus had knelt the day before, they unharnessed the mules and\ndrove them along the banks of the river to graze where the clover\ngrew rich and fragrant. Then they washed the clothes, working hard\nand well, and spread them out to dry on the clean pebbles down by the\nseashore.\n\nThen they bathed, and when they had bathed they took their midday meal\nby the bank of the rippling river.\n\nWhen they had finished, the sun had not yet dried the clothes, so\nNausicaa and her maidens began to play ball. As they played they sang\na song that the girls of that land would always sing as they threw the\nball to one another. All the maidens were fair, but Nausicaa of the\nwhite arms was the fairest of all.\n\nFrom hand to hand they threw the ball, growing always the merrier,\nuntil, when it was nearly time for them to gather the clothes together\nand go home, Nausicaa threw it very hard to one of the others. The\ngirl missed the catch. The ball flew into the river, and, as it was\nswept away to the sea, the Princess and all her maidens screamed\naloud.\n\nTheir cries awoke Odysseus, as he lay asleep in his bed of leaves.\n\n\"I must be near the houses of men,\" he said; \"those are the cries of\ngirls at play.\"\n\nWith that he crept out from the shelter of the olive-trees. He had no\nclothes, for he had thrown them all into the sea before he began his\nterrible swim for life. But he broke off some leafy branches and held\nthem round him, and walked down to where Nausicaa and her maidens\nwere.\n\nLike a wild man of the woods he looked, and when they saw him coming\nthe girls shrieked and ran away. Some of them hid behind the rocks on\nthe shore, and some ran out to the shoals of yellow sand that jutted\ninto the sea.\n\nBut although his face was marred with the sea-foam that had crusted on\nit, and he looked a terrible, fierce, great creature, Nausicaa was too\nbrave to run away.\n\nShaking she stood there, and watched him as he came forward, and stood\nstill a little way off. Then Odysseus spoke to her, gently and kindly,\nthat he might take away her fear.\n\nHe told her of his shipwreck, and begged her to show him the way to\nthe town, and give him some old garment, or any old wrap in which she\nhad brought the linen, so that he might have something besides leaves\nwith which to cover himself.\n\n\"I have never seen any maiden half so beautiful as thou art,\" he said.\n\"Have pity on me, and may the gods grant thee all thy heart's desire.\"\n\nThen said Nausicaa: \"Thou seemest no evil man, stranger, and I will\ngladly give thee clothing and show thee the way to town. This is the\nland of the Phaeacians, and my father is the King.\"\n\nTo her maidens then she called:\n\n\"Why do ye run away at the sight of a man? Dost thou take him for\nan enemy? He is only a poor shipwrecked man. Come, give him food and\ndrink, and fetch him clothing.\"\n\nThe maidens came back from their hiding-places, and fetched some of\nthe garments of Nausicaa's brothers which they had brought to wash,\nand laid them beside Odysseus.\n\nOdysseus gratefully took the clothes away, and went off to the river.\nThere he plunged into the clear water, and washed the salt crust from\noff his face and limbs and body, and the crusted foam from his hair.\nThen he put on the beautiful garments that belonged to one of the\nPrinces, and walked down to the shore where Nausicaa and her maidens\nwere waiting.\n\nSo tall and handsome and strong did Odysseus look, with his hair\ncurling like hyacinth flowers around his head, that Nausicaa said to\nher maidens: \"This man, who seemed to us so dreadful so short a time\nago, now looks like a god. I would that my husband, if ever I have\none, should be as he.\"\n\nThen she and her maidens brought him food and wine, and he ate\nhungrily, for it was many days since he had eaten.\n\nWhen he had finished, they packed the linen into the wagon, and yoked\nthe mules, and Nausicaa climbed into her place.\n\n\"So long as we are passing through the fields,\" she said to Odysseus,\n\"follow behind with my maidens, and I will lead the way. But when we\ncome near the town with its high walls and towers, and harbors full\nof ships, the rough sailors will stare and say, 'Hath Nausicaa gone to\nfind herself a husband because she scorns the men of Phaeacia who would\nwed her? Hath she picked up a shipwrecked stranger, or is this one of\nthe gods who has come to make her his wife?' Therefore come not with\nus, I pray thee, for the sailors to jest at. There is a fair poplar\ngrove near the city, with a meadow lying round it. Sit there until\nthou thinkest that we have had time to reach the palace. Then seek the\npalace--any child can show thee the way--and when thou art come to the\nouter court pass quickly into the room where my mother sits. Thou wilt\nfind her weaving yarn of sea-purple stain by the light of the fire.\nShe will be leaning her head back against a pillar, and her maidens\nwill be standing round her. My father's throne is close to hers,\nbut pass him by, and cast thyself at my mother's knees. If she feels\nkindly towards thee and is sorry for thee, then my father is sure to\nhelp thee to get safely back to thine own land.\"\n\nThen Nausicaa smote her mules with the whip, and they trotted quickly\noff, and soon left behind them the silver river with its whispering\nreeds, and the beach with its yellow sand.\n\nOdysseus and the maidens followed the wagon, and just as the sun was\nsetting they reached the poplar grove in the meadow.\n\nThere Odysseus stayed until Nausicaa should have had time to reach\nthe palace. When she got there, she stopped at the gateway, and her\nbrothers came out and lifted down the linen, and unharnessed the\nmules. Nausicaa went up to her room, and her old nurse kindled a fire\nfor her and got ready her supper.\n\nWhen Odysseus thought it was time to follow, he went to the city.\nHe marveled at the great walls and at the many gallant ships in the\nharbors. But when he reached the King's palace, he wondered still\nmore. Its walls were of brass, so that from without, when the doors\nstood open, it looked as if the sun or moon were shining within. A\nfrieze of blue ran round the walls. All the doors were made of gold,\nthe doorposts were of silver, the thresholds of brass, and the hook of\nthe door was of gold. In the halls were golden figures of animals, and\nof men who held in their hands lighted torches. Outside the courtyard\nwas a great garden filled with blossoming pear-trees and pomegranates,\nand apple-trees with shining fruit, and figs, and olives. All the year\nround there was fruit in that garden. There were grapes in blossom,\nand grapes purple and ready to eat, and there were great masses of\nsnowy pear-blossom, and pink apple-blossom, and golden ripe pears, and\nrosy apples.\n\nAt all of those wonders Odysseus stood and gazed, but it was not for\nlong; for he hastened through the halls to where the Queen sat in the\nfirelight, spinning her purple yarn. He fell at her knees, and silence\ncame on all those in the room when they looked at him, so brave and so\nhandsome did he seem.\n\n\"Through many and great troubles have I come hither, Queen,\" said he;\n\"speed, I pray you, my parting right quickly, that I may come to mine\nown country. Too long have I suffered great sorrows far away from my\nown friends.\"\n\nThen he sat down amongst the ashes by the fire, and for a little space\nno one spoke.\n\nAt last a wise old courtier said to the King: \"Truly it is not right\nthat this stranger should sit in the ashes by the fire. Bid him arise,\nand give him meat and drink.\"\n\nAt this the King took Odysseus by the hand and asked him to rise. He\nmade one of his sons give up his silver inlaid chair, and bade his\nservants fetch a silver basin and a golden ewer that Odysseus might\nwash his hands. All kinds of dainties to eat and drink he also made\nthem bring, and the lords and the courtiers who were there feasted\nalong with Odysseus, until it was time for them to go to their own\nhomes.\n\nBefore they went the King promised Odysseus a safe convoy back to his\nown land.\n\nWhen he was left alone with the King and Queen, the latter said to\nhim: \"Tell us who thou art. I myself made the clothing that thou\nwearest. From whence didst thou get it?\"\n\nThen Odysseus told her of his imprisonment in the island of Calypso,\nof his escape, of the terrible storm that shattered his raft, and of\nhow at length he reached the shore and met with Nausicaa.\n\n\"It was wrong of my daughter not to bring thee to the palace when she\ncame with her maids,\" said the King.\n\nBut Odysseus told him why it was that Nausicaa had bade him stay\nbehind.\n\n\"Be not vexed with this blameless maiden,\" he said. \"Truly she is the\nsweetest and the fairest maiden I ever saw.\"\n\nThen Odysseus went to the bed that the servants had prepared for him.\nThey had spread fair purple blankets over it, and when it was ready\nthey stood beside it with their torches blazing, golden and red.\n\n\"Up now, stranger, get thee to sleep,\" said they. \"Thy bed is made.\"\n\nSleep was very sweet to Odysseus that night as he lay in the soft bed\nwith warm blankets over him. He was no longer tossed and beaten by\nangry seas, no longer wet and cold and hungry. The roar of furious\nwaves did not beat in his ears, for all was still in the great halls\nwhere the flickering firelight played on the frieze of blue, and\nturned the brass walls into gold.\n\nNext day the King gave a great entertainment for Odysseus. There were\nboxing and wrestling and leaping and running, and in all of these the\nbrothers of Nausicaa were better than all others who tried.\n\nBut when they came to throw the weight, and begged Odysseus to try, he\ncast a stone heavier than all others, far beyond where the Phaeacians\nhad thrown.\n\nThat night there was feasting in the royal halls, and the King's\nminstrels played and sang songs of the taking of Troy, and of the\nbravery of the great Odysseus. And Odysseus listened until his heart\ncould bear no more, and tears trickled down his cheeks. Only the King\nsaw him weep. He wondered much why Odysseus wept, and at last he asked\nhim.\n\nSo Odysseus told the King his name, and the whole story of his\nadventures since he had sailed away from Troyland.\n\nThen the King and Queen and their courtiers gave rich gifts to\nOdysseus. A beautiful silver-studded sword was the King's gift to him.\n\nNausicaa gave him nothing, but she stood and gazed at him in his\npurple robes and felt more sure than ever that he was the handsomest\nand the greatest hero she had ever seen.\n\n\"Farewell, stranger,\" she said to him when the hour came for her to go\nto bed, for she knew she would not see him on the morrow. \"Farewell,\nstranger. Sometimes think of me when thou art in thine own land.\"\n\nThen said Odysseus: \"All the days of my life I shall remember thee,\nNausicaa, for thou hast given me my life.\"\n\nNext day a company of the Phaeacians went down to a ship that lay by\nthe seashore, and with them went Odysseus. They carried the treasures\nthat had been given to him and put them on board, and spread a rug on\nthe deck for him. There Odysseus lay down, and as soon as the splash\nof the oars in the water and the rush and gush of the water from the\nbow of the boat told him that the ship was sailing speedily to his\ndear land of Ithaca, he fell into a sound sleep. Onward went the ship,\nso swiftly that not even a hawk flying after its prey could have kept\npace with her. When the bright morning stars arose, they were close to\nIthaca. The sailors quickly ran their vessel ashore and gently carried\nthe sleeping Odysseus, wrapped round in his rug of bright purple, to\nwhere a great olive-tree bent its gray leaves over the sand. They laid\nhim under the tree, put his treasures beside him, and left him, still\nheavy with slumber. Then they climbed into their ship and sailed away.\n\nWhile Odysseus slept the goddess Athene shed a thick mist round him.\nWhen he awoke, the sheltering heavens, the long paths, and the trees\nin bloom all looked strange to him when seen through the grayness of\nthe mist.\n\n\"Woe is me!\" he groaned. \"The Phaeacians promised to bring me to\nIthaca, but they have brought me to a land of strangers, who will\nsurely attack me and steal my treasures.\"\n\nBut while he was wondering what he should do, the goddess Athene came\nto him. She was tall and fair and noble to look upon, and she smiled\nupon Odysseus with her kind gray eyes.\n\nUnder the olive-tree she sat down beside him, and told him all that\nhad happened in Ithaca while he was away, and all that he must do to\nwin back his kingdom and his Queen.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ARGONAUTS\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nHOW THE CENTAUR TRAINED THE HEROES\n\n\nNow I have a tale to tell of heroes who sailed away into a distant\nland, to win themselves renown for ever in the adventures of the\nGolden Fleece.\n\nAnd what was the Golden Fleece?\n\nIt was the fleece of the wondrous ram who bore a boy called Phrixus\nand a girl called Helle across the sea; and the old Greeks said that\nit hung nailed to a beech-tree in the War-god's wood.\n\nFor when a famine came upon the land, their cruel stepmother wished to\nkill Phrixus and Helle, that her own children might reign.\n\nShe said Phrixus and Helle must be sacrificed on an altar, to turn\naway the anger of the gods, who sent the famine.\n\nSo the poor children were brought to the altar, and the priest stood\nready with his knife, when out of the clouds came the Golden Ram, and\ntook them on his back and vanished.\n\nAnd the ram carried the two children far away, over land and sea,\ntill at a narrow strait Helle fell off into the sea, and those narrow\nstraits are called \"Hellespont\" after her, and they bear that name\nuntil this day.\n\nThen the ram flew on with Phrixus to the northeast, across the sea\nwhich we call the Black Sea, and at last he stopped at Colchis, on the\nsteep sea-coast.\n\nAnd Phrixus married the King's daughter there, and offered the ram in\nsacrifice, and then it was that the ram's fleece was nailed to a beech\nin the wood of the War-god.\n\nAfter a while Phrixus died, but his spirit had no rest, for he was\nburied far from his native land and the pleasant hills of Hellas.\n\nSo he came in dreams to the heroes of his country, and called sadly\nby their beds, \"Come and set my spirit free, that I may go home to my\nfathers and to my kinsfolk.\"\n\nAnd they asked, \"How shall we set your spirit free?\"\n\n\"You must sail over the sea to Colchis, and bring home the Golden\nFleece. Then my spirit will come back with it, and I shall sleep with\nmy fathers and have rest.\"\n\nHe came thus, and called to them often, but when they woke they looked\nat each other and said, \"Who dare sail to Colchis or bring home the\nGolden Fleece?\"\n\nAnd in all the country none was brave enough to try, for the man and\nthe time were not come.\n\nNow Phrixus had a cousin called AEson, who was King in Iolcos by the\nsea. And a fierce and lawless stepbrother drove AEson out of Iolcos by\nthe sea, and took the kingdom to himself and ruled over it.\n\nWhen AEson was driven out, he went sadly away out of the town, leading\nhis little son by the hand. And he said to himself, \"I must hide the\nchild in the mountains, or my stepbrother will surely kill him because\nhe is the heir.\"\n\nSo he went up from the sea, across the valley, through the vineyards\nand the olive groves, and across the river, toward Pelion, the ancient\nmountain, whose brows are white with snow.\n\nHe went up and up into the mountain, over marsh, and crag, and down,\ntill the boy was tired and footsore, and AEson had to bear him in his\narms till he came to the mouth of a lonely cave, at the foot of a\nmighty cliff.\n\nAbove the cliff the snow-wreaths hung, dripping and cracking in the\nsun. But at its foot, around the cave's mouth, grew all fair flowers\nand herbs, as if in a garden. There they grew gaily in the sunshine\nand in the spray of the torrent from above, while from the cave came\nthe sound of music, and a man's voice singing to the harp.\n\nThen AEson put down the lad, and whispered, \"Fear not, but go in, and\nwhomsoever you shall find, lay your hands upon his knees and say, 'In\nthe name of Zeus, the father of gods and men, I am your guest from\nthis day forth.'\"\n\nSo the lad went in without trembling, for he too was a hero's son, but\nwhen he was within, he stopped in wonder to listen to that magic song.\n\nAnd there he saw the singer, lying upon bear-skins and fragrant\nboughs, Cheiron the ancient Centaur, the wisest of all beneath the\nsky.\n\nDown to the waist he was a man, but below he was a noble horse. His\nwhite hair rolled down over his broad shoulders, and his white beard\nover his broad brown chest. His eyes were wise and mild, and his\nforehead like a mountain-wall. In his hands he held a harp of gold,\nand he struck it with a golden key. And as he struck, he sang till his\neyes glittered and filled all the cave with light.\n\nAs he sang the boy listened wide-eyed, and forgot his errand in the\nsong. At the last old Cheiron was silent, and called the lad with a\nsoft voice.\n\nAnd the lad ran trembling to him, and would have laid his hands upon\nhis knees.\n\nBut Cheiron smiled, and drew the lad to him, and laid his hand upon\nhis golden locks, and said, \"Are you afraid of my horse's hoofs, fair\nboy, or will you be my pupil from this day?\"\n\n\"I would gladly have horse's hoofs like you, if I could sing such\nsongs as yours,\" said the lad.\n\nAnd Cheiron laughed and said, \"Sit here till sundown, when your\nplayfellows will come home, and you shall learn like them to be a\nking, worthy to rule over gallant men.\"\n\nThen he turned to AEson, who had followed his son into the cave, and\nsaid, \"Go back in peace. This boy shall not cross the river again till\nhe has become a glory to you and to your house.\"\n\nAnd AEson wept over his son and went away, but the boy did not weep, so\nfull was his fancy of that strange cave, and the Centaur and his song,\nand the playfellows whom he was to see.\n\nThen Cheiron put the lyre into his hands, and taught him how to play\nit, till the sun sank low behind the cliff, and a shout was heard\noutside.\n\nAnd then in came the sons of the heroes, and great Cheiron leapt up\njoyfully, and his hoofs made the cave resound as the lads shouted,\n\"Come out, Father Cheiron, and see our game!\"\n\nOne cried, \"I have killed two deer,\" and another, \"I took a wild cat\namong the crags,\" and another shouted, \"I have dragged a wild goat by\nits horns,\" and another carried under each arm a bear-cub. And Cheiron\npraised them all, each as he deserved.\n\nThen the lads brought in wood and split it, and lighted a blazing\nfire. Others skinned the deer and quartered them, and set them to\nroast before the flames.\n\nWhile the venison was cooking, they bathed in the snow-torrent and\nwashed away the dust.\n\nAnd then all ate till they could eat no more, for they had tasted\nnothing since the dawn, and drank of the clear spring water, for wine\nis not fit for growing lads.\n\nWhen the remnants of the meal were put away, they all lay down upon\nthe skins and leaves about the fire, and each took the lyre in turn,\nand sang and played with all his heart.\n\nAfter a while they all went out to a plot of grass at the cave's\nmouth, and there they boxed and ran and wrestled and laughed till the\nstones fell from the cliffs.\n\nThen Cheiron took his lyre, and all the lads joined hands, and as he\nplayed they danced to his measure, in and out and round and round.\n\nThere they danced hand in hand, till the night fell over land and sea,\nwhile the black glen shone with the gleam of their golden hair.\n\nAnd the lad danced with them, delighted, and then slept a wholesome\nsleep, upon fragrant leaves of bay and myrtle and flowers of thyme.\n\nHe rose at the dawn and bathed in the torrent, and became a\nschoolfellow to the heroes' sons, and forgot Iolcos by the sea, and\nhis father and all his former life.\n\nBut he grew strong and brave and cunning, upon the pleasant downs of\nPelion, in the keen, hungry mountain-air.\n\nAnd he learned to wrestle, to box and to hunt, and to play upon the\nharp. Next he learned to ride, for old Cheiron used to mount him on\nhis back. He learned too the virtue of all herbs, and how to cure all\nwounds, and Cheiron called him Jason the Healer, and that is his name\nuntil this day.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHOW JASON LOST HIS SANDAL\n\n\nAnd ten years came and went, and Jason was grown to be a mighty man.\n\nNow it happened one day that Jason stood on the mountain, and looked\nnorth and south and east and west. And Cheiron stood by him and\nwatched him, for he knew that the time was come.\n\nWhen Jason looked south, he saw a pleasant land, with white-walled\ntowns and farms nestling along the shore of a land-locked bay, while\nthe smoke rose blue among the trees, and he knew it for Iolcos by the\nsea.\n\nThen he sighed and asked, \"Is it true what the heroes tell me--that I\nam heir of that fair land?\"\n\n\"And what good would it be to you, Jason, if you were heir of that\nfair land?\"\n\n\"I would take it and keep it.\"\n\n\"A strong man has taken it and kept it long. Are you stronger than\nyour uncle Pelias the Terrible?\"\n\n\"I can try my strength with his,\" said Jason.\n\nBut Cheiron sighed and said, \"You have many a danger to go through\nbefore you rule in Iolcos by the sea, many a danger and many a woe,\nand strange troubles in strange lands, such as man never saw before.\"\n\n\"The happier I,\" said Jason, \"to see what man never saw before!\"\n\nCheiron sighed and said, \"Will you go to Iolcos by the sea? Then\npromise me two things before you go! Speak harshly to no soul whom you\nmay meet, and stand by the word which you shall speak.\"\n\nJason promised. Then he leapt down the mountain, to take his fortune\nlike a man.\n\nHe went down through the thickets and across the downs of thyme, till\nhe came to the vineyard walls, and the olives in the glen. And among\nthe olives roared the river, foaming with a summer flood.\n\nAnd on the bank of the river sat a woman, all wrinkled, gray and old.\nHer head shook with old age, and her hands shook on her knees.\n\nWhen she saw Jason, she spoke, whining, \"Who will carry me across the\nflood?\"\n\nBut Jason, heeding her not, went towards the waters. Yet he thought\ntwice before he leapt, so loud roared the torrent all brown from the\nmountain rains.\n\nThe old woman whined again, \"I am weak and old, fair youth. For Hera's\nsake, the Queen of the Immortals, carry me over the torrent.\"\n\nJason was going to answer her scornfully, when Cheiron's words, \"Speak\nharshly to no soul whom you may meet,\" came to his mind.\n\nSo he said, \"For Hera's sake, the Queen of the Immortals, I will carry\nyou over the torrent, unless we both are drowned midway.\"\n\nThen the old dame leapt upon his back as nimbly as a goat. Jason\nstaggered in, wondering, and the first step was up to his knees.\n\nThe first step was up to his knees, and the second step was up to his\nwaist. The stones rolled about his feet, and his feet slipped about\nthe stones. So he went on, staggering and panting, while the old woman\ncried upon his back, \"Fool, you have wet my mantle! Do you mock at\npoor old souls like me?\"\n\nJason had half a mind to drop her and let her get through the torrent\nalone, but Cheiron's words were in his mind, and he said only,\n\"Patience, mother, the best horse may stumble some day.\"\n\nAt last he staggered to the shore and set her down upon the bank. He\nlay himself panting awhile, and then leapt up to go upon his journey,\nbut he first cast one look at the old woman, for he thought, \"She\nshould thank me once at least.\"\n\nAnd as he looked, she grew fairer than all women and taller than all\nmen on earth.\n\nHer garments shone like the summer sea, and her jewels like the stars\nof heaven. And she looked down on him with great soft eyes, with great\neyes, mild and awful, which filled all the glen with light. Jason fell\nupon his knees and hid his face between his hands.\n\nAnd she spoke: \"I am Hera, the Queen of Olympus. As thou hast done to\nme, so will I do to thee. Call on me in the hour of need, and try if\nthe Immortals can forget!\"\n\nWhen Jason looked up, she rose from off the earth, like a pillar of\ntall white cloud, and floated away across the mountain peaks, towards\nOlympus, the holy hill.\n\nThen a great fear fell on Jason, but after a while he grew light\nof heart. He blessed old Cheiron and said, \"Surely the Centaur is a\nprophet and knew what would come to pass when he bade me speak harshly\nto no soul whom I might meet.\"\n\nThen he went down towards Iolcos, and as he walked he found that he\nhad lost one of his sandals in the flood.\n\nAnd as he went through the streets the people came out to look at him,\nso tall and fair he was. But some of the elders whispered together,\nand at last one of them stopped Jason and called to him, \"Fair lad,\nwho are you and whence come you, and what is your errand in the town?\"\n\n\"My name, good father, is Jason, and I come from Pelion up above. My\nerrand is to Pelias your King. Tell me, then, where his palace is.\"\n\nBut the old man said, \"I will tell you, lest you rush upon your ruin\nunawares. The oracle has said that a man wearing one sandal should\ntake the kingdom from Pelias and keep it for himself. Therefore beware\nhow you go up to his palace, for he is fiercest and most cunning of\nall kings.\" Jason laughed a great laugh in his pride. \"Good news, good\nfather, both for you and me. For that very end, to take his kingdom, I\ncame into the town.\"\n\nThen he strode on toward the palace of Pelias his uncle, while all\nthe people wondered at the stranger. And he stood in the doorway and\ncried, \"Come out, come out, Pelias the Valiant, and fight for your\nkingdom like a man.\"\n\nPelias came out, wondering. \"Who are you, bold youth?\" he cried.\n\n\"I am Jason, the son of AEson, the heir of all the land.\"\n\nThen Pelias lifted up his hands and eyes and wept, or seemed to weep,\nand blessed the gods who had brought his nephew to him, never to leave\nhim more. \"For,\" said he, \"I have but three daughters, and no son\nto be my heir. You shall marry whichsoever of my daughters you shall\nchoose. But come, come in and feast.\"\n\nSo he drew Jason in and spoke to him so lovingly, and feasted him so\nwell, that Jason's anger passed.\n\nWhen supper was ended his three cousins came into the hall, and Jason\nthought he would like well to have one of them for his wife.\n\nBut soon he looked at Pelias, and when he saw that he still wept, he\nsaid, \"Why do you look so sad, my uncle?\"\n\nThen Pelias sighed heavily again and again, like a man who had to tell\nsome dreadful story, and was afraid to begin.\n\nAt last he said, \"For seven long years and more have I never known a\nquiet night, and no more will he who comes after me, till the Golden\nFleece be brought home.\"\n\nThen he told Jason the story of Phrixus and of the Golden Fleece, and\ntold him what was a lie, that Phrixus' spirit tormented him day and\nnight. And his daughters came and told the same tale, and wept and\nsaid, \"Oh, who will bring home the Golden Fleece, that the spirit\nof Phrixus may rest, and that we may rest also, for he never lets us\nsleep in peace?\"\n\nJason sat awhile, sad and silent, for he had often heard of that\nGolden Fleece, but he looked on it as a thing hopeless and impossible\nfor any mortal man to win.\n\nWhen Pelias saw him silent he began to talk of other things. \"One\nthing there is,\" said Pelias, \"on which I need your advice, for,\nthough you are young, I see in you a wisdom beyond your years. There\nis one neighbor of mine whom I dread more than all men on earth. I am\nstronger than he now and can command him, but I know that if he stay\namong us, he will work my ruin in the end. Can you give me a plan,\nJason, by which I can rid myself of that man?\"\n\nAfter a while, Jason answered half-laughing, \"Were I you, I would send\nhim to fetch that same Golden Fleece, for if he once set forth after\nit, you would never be troubled with him more.\"\n\nAt that a little smile came across the lips of Pelias, and a flash of\nwicked joy into his eyes. Jason saw it and started, and he remembered\nthe warning of the old man, and his own one sandal and the oracle, and\nhe saw that he was taken in a trap.\n\nBut Pelias only answered gently, \"My son, he shall be sent forthwith.\"\n\n\"You mean me!\" cried Jason, starting up, \"because I came here with one\nsandal,\" and he lifted his fist angrily, while Pelias stood up to\nhim like a wolf at bay. Whether of the two was the stronger and the\nfiercer it would be hard to tell.\n\nBut after a moment Pelias spoke gently, \"Why so rash, my son? I have\nnot harmed you. You will go, and that gladly, for you have a hero's\nheart within you, and the love of glory.\"\n\nJason knew that he was entrapped, but he cried aloud, \"You have well\nspoken, cunning uncle of mine, I love glory. I will go and fetch the\nGolden Fleece. Promise me but this in return, and keep your word as I\nkeep mine. Treat my father lovingly while I am gone, for the sake of\nthe all-seeing Zeus, and give me up the kingdom for my own on the day\nthat I bring back the Golden Fleece.\"\n\nThen Pelias looked at him and almost loved him, in the midst of all\nhis hate, and he said, \"I promise, and I will perform. It will be no\nshame to give up my kingdom to the man who wins that fleece.\"\n\nSo they both went and lay down to sleep. But Jason could not sleep for\nthinking how he was to win the Golden Fleece. Sometimes Phrixus seemed\nto call him in a thin voice, faint and low, as if it came from far\nacross the sea. Sometimes he seemed to see the eyes of Hera, and to\nhear her words again, \"Call on me in the hour of need, and see if the\nImmortals can forget.\"\n\nOn the morrow Jason went to Pelias and said, \"Give me a lamb, that\nI may sacrifice to Hera.\" And as he stood by the altar Hera sent a\nthought into his mind. And he went back to Pelias and said, \"If you\nare indeed in earnest, give me two heralds that they may go round to\nall the Princes, who were pupils of the Centaur with me. Then together\nwe will fit out a ship, and take what shall befall.\"\n\nAt that Pelias praised his wisdom and hastened to send the heralds\nout, for he said in his heart, \"Let all the Princes go with Jason,\nand, like him, never return, so shall I be lord of the land and the\ngreatest king in Hellas.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW THEY BUILT THE SHIP ARGO\n\n\nSo the heralds went out and cried to all the heroes, \"Who dare come to\nthe adventures of the Golden Fleece?\"\n\nAnd Hera stirred the hearts of all the Princes, and they came from all\ntheir valleys to the yellow sand of Iolcos by the sea.\n\nAll the city came out to meet them, and the men were never tired with\nlooking at their heights and their beauty and the glitter of their\narms.\n\nBut the women sighed over them and whispered, \"Alas, they are all\ngoing to their death!\"\n\nThen the heroes felled the mountain pines and shaped them with the\naxe, and Argus the famed shipbuilder taught them to build a galley,\nthe first long ship which ever sailed the seas. They named her Argo,\nafter Argus the shipbuilder, and worked at her all day long.\n\nBut Jason went away into a far-off land, till he found Orpheus the\nprince of minstrels, where he dwelt in his cave.\n\nAnd he asked him, \"Will you leave your mountains, Orpheus, my\nplayfellow in old times, and sail with the heroes to bring home the\nGolden Fleece? And will you charm for us all men and all monsters with\nyour magic harp and song?\"\n\nThen Orpheus sighed, \"Have I not had enough of toil and of weary\nwandering far and wide, since I lived in Cheiron's cave, above Iolcos\nby the sea? And now must I go out again, to the ends of all the\nearth, far away into the misty darkness? But a friend's demand must be\nobeyed.\"\n\nSo Orpheus rose up sighing, and took his harp. He led Jason to the\nholy oak, and he bade him cut down a bough and sacrifice to Hera. And\nthey took the bough and came to Iolcos, and nailed it to the prow of\nthe ship.\n\nAnd at last the ship was finished, and they tried to launch her down\nthe beach; but she was too heavy for them to move her, and her keel\nsank deep into the sand.\n\nThen all the heroes looked at each other blushing, but Jason spoke\nand said, \"Let us ask the magic bough; perhaps it can help us in our\nneed.\"\n\nAnd a voice came from the bough, and Jason heard the words it said,\nand bade Orpheus play upon the harp, while the heroes waited round,\nholding the pine-trunk rollers to help the Argo toward the sea.\n\nThen Orpheus took his harp and began his magic song. And the good ship\nArgo heard him and longed to be away and out at sea, till she stirred\nin every timber, and heaved from stem to stern, and leapt up from the\nsand upon the rollers, and plunged onward like a gallant horse till\nshe rushed into the whispering sea.\n\nAnd they stored her well with food and water, and settled themselves\neach man to his oar, keeping time to the harp of Orpheus.\n\nThen away across the bay they rowed southward, while the people lined\nthe cliffs. But the women wept while the men shouted at the starting\nof that gallant crew.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHOW THE ARGONAUTS WON THE GOLDEN FLEECE\n\n\nThe heroes rowed across the bay, and while they waited there for a\nsouthwest wind, they chose themselves a captain from their crew. And\nsome called for the strongest and hugest to be their captain, but more\ncalled for Jason, because he was the wisest of them all.\n\nSo Jason was chosen captain, and each hero vowed to stand by him\nfaithfully in the adventure of the Golden Fleece.\n\nThey sailed onward and northward to Pelion. And their hearts yearned\nfor the dear old mountain, as they thought of the days gone by, of the\nsports of their boyhood, and their hunting, and their lessons in the\ncave beneath the cliff. Then at last they said, \"Let us land here and\nclimb the dear old hill once more. We are going on a fearful journey.\nWho knows if we shall see Pelion again? Let us go up to Cheiron our\nmaster, and ask his blessing ere we start.\"\n\nSo the helmsman steered them to the shore, under the crags of Pelion,\nand they went up through the dark pine-forests toward the Centaur's\ncave.\n\nThen, as Cheiron saw them, he leapt up and welcomed them every one,\nand set a feast of venison before them. And after supper all the\nheroes clapped their hands and called on Orpheus to sing, but he\nrefused, and said, \"How can I, who am the younger, sing before our\nancient host?\"\n\nSo they called on Cheiron to sing. And he sang of heroes who fought\nwith fists and teeth, and how they tore up the pine-trees in their\nfury, and hurled great crags of stone, while the mountains thundered\nwith the battle, and the land was wasted far and wide.\n\nAnd the heroes praised his song right heartily, for some of them had\nhelped in that great fight.\n\nThen Orpheus took the lyre and sang of the making of the wondrous\nworld. And as he sang, his voice rose from the cave above the crags,\nand through the tree-tops. The trees bowed their heads when they heard\nit, and the forest beasts crept close to listen, and the birds forsook\ntheir nests and hovered near. And old Cheiron clapped his hands\ntogether and beat his hoofs upon the ground, for wonder at that magic\nsong.\n\nNow the heroes came down to the ship, and Cheiron came down with\nthem, weeping, and kissed them one by one, and promised to them great\nrenown.\n\nAnd the heroes wept when they left him, till their great hearts could\nweep no more, for he was kind and just, and wiser than all beasts and\nmen.\n\nThen Cheiron went up to a cliff and prayed for them, that they might\ncome home safe and well, while the heroes rowed away and watched\nhim standing on his cliff above the sea, with his great hands raised\ntoward heaven, and his white locks waving in the wind. They strained\ntheir eyes to watch him to the last, for they felt that they should\nlook on him no more.\n\nSo they rowed on over the long swell of the sea eastward, and out into\nthe open sea which we now call the Black Sea.\n\nAll feared that dreadful sea, and its rocks and fogs and bitter\nstorms, and the heroes trembled for all their courage, as they came\ninto that wild Black Sea, and saw it stretching out before them,\nwithout a shore, as far as eye could see.\n\nThen Orpheus spoke and warned them that they must come now to the\nwandering blue rocks.\n\nSoon they saw them, and their blue peaks shone like spires and castles\nof gray glass, while an ice-cold wind blew from them and chilled all\nthe heroes' hearts.\n\nAs they neared them, they could see the rocks heaving, as they rolled\nupon the long sea-waves, crashing and grinding together, till the roar\nwent up to heaven.\n\nThe heroes' hearts sank within them, and they lay upon their oars in\nfear, but Orpheus called to the helmsman, \"Between the blue rocks we\nmust pass, so look for an opening, and be brave, for Hera is with us.\"\n\nThe cunning helmsman stood silent, clenching his teeth, till he saw a\nheron come flying mast-high toward the rocks, and hover awhile before\nthem, as if looking for a passage through. Then he cried, \"Hera has\nsent us a pilot; let us follow the bird.\"\n\nThe heron flapped to and fro a moment till he saw a hidden gap, and\ninto it he rushed like an arrow, while the heroes watched what would\nbefall.\n\nAnd the blue rocks dashed together as the bird fled swiftly through,\nbut they struck but one feather from his tail, and then rebounded at\nthe shock.\n\nThen the helmsman cheered the heroes, and they shouted, while the\noars bent beneath their strokes as they rushed between those toppling\nice-crags. But ere the rocks could meet again they had passed them,\nand were safe out in the open sea.\n\nAfter that they sailed on wearily along the coast, past many a mighty\nriver's mouth, and past many a barbarous tribe. And at day dawn they\nlooked eastward, till, shining above the tree-tops, they saw the\ngolden roofs of King Aietes, the Child of the Sun.\n\nThen out spoke the helmsman, \"We are come to our goal at last, for\nthere are the roofs of Aietes, and the woods where all poisons grow.\nBut who can tell us where among them is hid the Golden Fleece?\"\n\nBut Jason cheered the heroes, for his heart was high and bold, and he\nsaid, \"I will go alone to Aietes, and win him with soft words. Better\nso than to go altogether and to come to blows at once.\" But the heroes\nwould not stay behind so they rowed boldly up the stream.\n\nAnd a dream came to Aietes and filled his heart with fear. Then he\nleapt up and bade his servants bring his chariot, that he might go\ndown to the river-side, and appease the nymphs and the heroes whose\nspirits haunt the bank.\n\nSo he went down in his golden chariot, and his daughters by his side,\nMedeia, the fair witch-maiden, and Chalciope, who had been Phrixus'\nwife, and behind him a crowd of servants and soldiers, for he was a\nrich and mighty prince.\n\nAnd as he drove down by the reedy river, he saw the Argo sliding up\nbeneath the bank, and many a hero in her, like Immortals for beauty\nand strength. But Jason was the noblest of all, for Hera, who loved\nhim, gave him beauty and height and terrible manhood.\n\nWhen they came near together and looked into each other's eyes, the\nheroes were awed before Aietes as he shone in his chariot like his\nfather, the glorious Sun. For his robes were of rich gold tissue, and\nthe rays of his diadem flashed fire. And in his hand he bore a jeweled\nscepter, which glittered like the stars.\n\nSternly Aietes looked at the heroes, and sternly he spoke and loud,\n\"Who are you, and what want you here that you come to our shore? Know\nthis is my kingdom and these are my people who serve me. Never yet\ngrew they tired in battle, and well they know how to face a foe.\"\n\nAnd the heroes sat silent awhile before the face of that ancient King.\nBut Hera, the awful goddess, put courage into Jason's heart, and he\nrose and shouted loudly in answer to the King.\n\n\"We are no lawless men. We come, not to plunder or carry away slaves\nfrom your land, but we have come on a quest to bring home the Golden\nFleece. And these too, my bold comrades, they are no nameless men, for\nsome are the sons of Immortals, and some of heroes far renowned. We\ntoo never tire in battle, and know well how to give blows and to\ntake. Yet we wish to be guests at your table; it will be better so for\nboth.\"\n\nThen Aietes' rage rushed up like a whirlwind, and his eyes flashed\nfire as he heard; but he crushed his anger down in his heart and spoke\nmildly.\n\n\"If you will fight, then many a man must die. But if you will be ruled\nby me you will find it better far to choose the best man among you,\nand let him fulfil the labors which I demand. Then I will give him the\nGolden Fleece for a prize and a glory to you all.\"\n\nSo he said, and then turned his horses and drove back in silence to\nthe town.\n\nThe heroes sat dumb with sorrow, for there was no facing the thousands\nof King Aietes' men and the fearful chance of war.\n\nBut Chalciope, the widow of Phrixus, went weeping to the town, for she\nremembered her husband and all the pleasures of her youth while she\nwatched the fair face of his kinsmen and their long locks of golden\nhair.\n\nAnd she whispered to Medeia, her sister, \"Why should all these brave\nmen die? Why does not my father give up the fleece, that my husband's\nspirit may have rest?\"\n\nMedeia's heart pitied the heroes, and Jason most of all, and she\nanswered, \"Our father is stern and terrible, and who can win the\nGolden Fleece?\"\n\nBut Chalciope said, \"These men are not like our men; there is nothing\nwhich they cannot dare nor do.\"\n\nThen Medeia thought of Jason and his brave countenance, and said, \"If\nthere was one among them who knew no fear, I could show him how to win\nthe fleece.\"\n\nSo in the dusk of the evening they went down to the river-side,\nChalciope and Medeia the witch-maiden, and with them a lad. And the\nlad crept forward, among the beds of reeds, till he came to where\nJason kept ward on shore, leaning upon his lance, full of thought.\n\nAnd the lad said, \"Chalciope waits for you, to talk about the Golden\nFleece.\"\n\nThen Jason went boldly with the boy and found the two Princesses. When\nChalciope saw him, she wept and took his hands and cried, \"O cousin of\nmy beloved Phrixus, go home before you die!\"\n\n\"It would be base to go home now, fair Princess, and to have sailed\nall these seas in vain.\"\n\nThen both the Princesses besought him, but Jason said, \"It is too late\nto return!\"\n\n\"But you know not,\" said Medeia, \"what he must do who would win\nthe fleece. He must tame the two brazen-footed bulls, which breathe\ndevouring flame, and with them he must plow ere nightfall four acres\nin a field. He must sow the acres with serpents' teeth, of which each\ntooth springs up into an armed man. Then he must fight with all these\nwarriors. And little will it profit him to conquer them, for the\nfleece is guarded by a serpent more huge than any mountain pine. Over\nhis body you must step if you would reach the Golden Fleece.\"\n\nThen Jason laughed bitterly: \"Unjustly is that fleece kept here, and\nby an unjust and lawless King, and unjustly shall I die in my youth,\nfor I will attempt it ere another sun be set.\"\n\nMedeia trembled and said, \"No mortal man can reach that fleece unless\nI guide him through.\"\n\nBut Jason cried, \"No wall so high but it may be climbed at last, and\nno wood so thick but it may be crawled through. No serpent so wary\nbut he may be charmed, and I may yet win the Golden Fleece, if a wise\nmaiden help bold men.\"\n\nAnd he looked at Medeia with his glittering eye, till she blushed and\ntrembled and said, \"Who can face the fire of the bulls' breath and\nfight ten thousand armed men?\"\n\n\"He whom you help,\" said Jason, flattering her, \"for your fame is\nspread over all the earth.\"\n\nAnd Medeia said slowly, \"Why should you die? I have an ointment here.\nI made it from the magic ice-flower. Anoint yourself with that, and\nyou shall have in you the strength of seven, and anoint your shield\nwith it, and neither fire nor sword shall harm you. Anoint your helmet\nwith it, before you sow the serpents' teeth, and when the sons of\nearth spring up, cast your helmet among them, and every man of them\nshall perish.\"\n\nThen Jason fell on his knees before her, and thanked her and kissed\nher hands, and she gave him the vase of ointment, and fled trembling\nthrough the reeds.\n\nAnd Jason told his comrades what had happened, and showed them the box\nof ointment.\n\nSo at sunrise Jason went and bathed and anointed himself from head to\nfoot, and his shield and his helmet and his weapons. And when the sun\nhad risen, Jason sent two of his heroes to tell Aietes that he was\nready for the fight.\n\nUp among the marble walls they went, and beneath the roofs of gold,\nand stood in the hall of Aietes, while he grew pale with rage.\n\n\"Fulfil your promise to us, Child of the blazing Sun,\" the heroes\ncried to King Aietes. \"Give us the serpents' teeth, and let loose the\nfiery bulls, for we have found a champion among us, who can win the\nGolden Fleece!\"\n\nAietes grew more pale with rage, for he had fancied that they had fled\naway by night, but he could not break his promise, so he gave them the\nserpents' teeth. Then he called his chariot and his horses, and sent\nheralds through all the town, and all the people went out with him to\nthe dreadful War-god's field.\n\nThere Aietes sat upon his throne, with his warriors on each hand,\nthousands and tens of thousands clothed from head to foot in steel\nchain mail. And the people and women crowded to every window and bank\nand wall, while the heroes stood together, a mere handful in the midst\nof that great host.\n\nChalciope was there, and Medeia, wrapped closely in her veil; but\nAietes did not know that she was muttering cunning spells between her\nlips.\n\nThen Jason cried, \"Fulfil your promise, and let your fiery bulls come\nforth!\"\n\nAietes bade open the gates, and the magic bulls leapt out. Their\nbrazen hoofs rang upon the ground as they rushed with lowered heads\nupon Jason, but he never flinched a step. The flame of their breath\nswept round him, but it singed not a hair of his head. And the bulls\nstopped short and trembled when Medeia began her spell.\n\nThen Jason sprang upon the nearest, and seized him by the horns, and\nup and down they wrestled, till the bull fell groveling on his knees.\nFor the heart of the bull died within him, beneath the steadfast eye\nof that dark witch-maiden and the magic whisper of her lips.\n\nSo both the bulls were tamed and yoked, and Jason bound them to the\nplow and goaded them onward with his lance, till he had plowed the\nsacred field. And all the heroes shouted, but Aietes bit his lips with\nrage, for half of Jason's work was done.\n\nThen Jason took the serpents' teeth and sowed them, and waited what\nwould befall.\n\nAnd Medeia looked at him and at his helmet, lest he should forget the\nlesson she had taught him.\n\nNow every furrow heaved and bubbled, and out of every clod arose a\nman. Out of the earth they arose by thousands, each clad from head\nto foot in steel, and drew their swords and rushed on Jason where he\nstood in the midst alone.\n\nThe heroes grew pale with fear for him, but Aietes laughed an angry\nlaugh.\n\nThen Jason snatched off his helmet and hurled it into the thickest of\nthe throng. And hate and fear and suspicion came upon them, and one\ncried to his fellows, \"Thou didst strike me,\" and another, \"Thou art\nJason, thou shalt die,\" and each turned his hand against the rest,\nand they fought and were never weary, till they all lay dead upon the\nground.\n\nAnd the magic furrows opened, and the kind earth took them home again,\nand Jason's work was done.\n\nThen the heroes rose and shouted, and Jason cried to the King, \"Lead\nme to the Golden Fleece this moment before the sun goes down.\"\n\nBut Aietes thought, \"Who is this, who is proof against all magic? He\nmay kill the serpent yet!\" So he delayed, and sat taking counsel with\nhis princes. Afterwards he bade a herald cry, \"To-morrow we will meet\nthese heroes and speak about the Golden Fleece!\"\n\nThen he turned and looked at Medeia. \"This is your doing, false\nwitch-maid,\" he said; \"you have helped these yellow-haired strangers.\"\n\nMedeia shrank and trembled, and her face grew pale with fear, and\nAietes knew that she was guilty, and he whispered, \"If they win the\nfleece, you die.\"\n\nNow the heroes went marching toward their ship, growling, like lions\ncheated of their prey. \"Let us go together to the grove and take\nthe fleece by force,\" they said. But Jason held them back, while he\npraised them for brave heroes, for he hoped for Medeia's help.\n\nAnd after a time she came trembling, and wept a long while before she\nspoke. At last she said, \"I must die, for my father has found out that\nI have helped you.\"\n\nBut all the heroes cried, \"If you die we die with you, for without you\nwe cannot win the fleece, and home we will never go without it.\"\n\n\"You need not die,\" said Jason to the witch-maiden. \"Flee home with\nus across the sea. Show us but how to win the fleece, and come with us\nand you shall be my queen, and rule over the rich princes in Iolcos by\nthe sea.\"\n\nAnd all the heroes pressed round and vowed to her that she should be\ntheir queen.\n\nMedeia wept and hid her face in her hands. \"Must I leave my home and\nmy people?\" she sobbed. \"But the lot is cast: I will show you how to\nwin the Golden Fleece. Bring up your ship to the woodside, and moor\nher there against the bank. And let Jason come up at midnight and one\nbrave comrade with him, and meet me beneath the wall.\"\n\nThen all the heroes cried together, \"I will go--and I--and I!\"\n\nBut Medeia calmed them and said, \"Orpheus shall go with Jason, and\ntake his magic harp.\"\n\nAnd Orpheus laughed for joy and clapped his hands, because the choice\nhad fallen on him.\n\nSo at midnight they went up the bank and found Medeia, and she brought\nthem to a thicket beside the War-god's gate.\n\nAnd the base of the gate fell down and the brazen doors flew wide,\nand Medeia and the heroes ran forward, and hurried through the poison\nwood, guided by the gleam of the Golden Fleece, until they saw it\nhanging on one vast tree in the midst.\n\nJason would have sprung to seize it, but Medeia held him back and\npointed to the tree-foot, where a mighty serpent lay, coiled in and\nout among the roots.\n\nWhen the serpent saw them coming, he lifted up his head and watched\nthem with his small bright eyes, and flashed his forked tongue.\n\nBut Medeia called gently to him, and he stretched out his long spotted\nneck, and licked her hand. Then she made a sign to Orpheus, and he\nbegan his magic song.\n\nAnd as he sung, the forest grew calm, and the leaves on every tree\nhung still, and the serpent's head sank down and his coils grew limp,\nand his glittering eyes closed lazily, till he breathed as gently as a\nchild.\n\nJason leapt forward warily and stept across that mighty snake, and\ntore the fleece from off the tree-trunk. Then the witch-maiden with\nJason and Orpheus turned and rushed down to the bank where the Argo\nlay.\n\nThere was silence for a moment, when Jason held the Golden Fleece on\nhigh. Then he cried, \"Go now, good Argo, swift and steady, if ever you\nwould see Pelion more.\"\n\nAnd she went, as the heroes drove her, grim and silent all, with\nmuffled oars. On and on, beneath the dewy darkness, they fled swiftly\ndown the swirling stream, on and on till they heard the merry music of\nthe surge.\n\nInto the surge they rushed, and the Argo leapt the breakers like a\nhorse, till the heroes stopped, all panting, each man upon his oar, as\nshe slid into the broad sea.\n\nThen Orpheus took his harp and sang a song of praise, till the heroes'\nhearts rose high again, and they rowed on, stoutly and steadfastly,\naway into the darkness of the West.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nHOW THE ARGONAUTS REACHED HOME\n\n\nSo the heroes fled away in haste, but Aietes manned his fleet and\nfollowed them.\n\nThen Medeia, the dark witch-maiden, laid a cruel plot, for she killed\nher young brother who had come with her, and cast him into the sea,\nand said, \"Ere my father can take up his body and bury it, he must\nwait long and be left far behind.\"\n\nAnd all the heroes shuddered, and looked one at the other in shame.\nWhen Aietes came to the place he stopped a long while and bewailed his\nson, and took him up and went home.\n\nSo the heroes escaped for a time, but Zeus saw that evil deed, and out\nof the heavens he sent a storm and swept the Argo far from her course.\nAnd at last she struck on a shoal, and the waves rolled over her and\nthrough her, and the heroes lost all hope of life.\n\nThen out spoke the magic bough, which stood upon the Argo's prow, \"For\nyour guilt, you must sail a weary way to where Circe, Medeia's sister,\ndwells among the islands of the West; she shall cleanse you of your\nguilt.\"\n\nWhither they went I cannot tell, nor how they came to Circe's isle,\nbut at last they reached the fairy island of the West.\n\nAnd Jason bid them land, and as they went ashore they met Circe coming\ndown toward the ship, and they trembled when they saw her, for her\nhair and face and robes shone flame.\n\nThen Circe cried to Medeia, \"Ah, wretched girl, have you forgotten\nyour sins that you come hither, where the flowers bloom all the year\nround? Where is your aged father, and the brother whom you killed? I\nwill send you food and wine, but your ship must not stay here, for she\nis black with your wickedness.\"\n\nAnd the heroes prayed, but in vain, and cried, \"Cleanse us from our\nguilt!\" but she sent them away and said, \"Go eastward, that you may be\ncleansed, and after that you may go home.\"\n\nSlowly and wearily they sailed on, till one summer's eve they came to\na flowery island, and as they neared it they heard sweet songs.\n\n[Illustration: ORPHEUS SANG TILL HIS VOICE DROWNED THE SONG OF THE\nSIRENS.]\n\nMedeia started when she heard, and cried, \"Beware, O heroes, for here\nare the rocks of the Sirens. You must pass close by them, but those\nwho listen to that song are lost.\"\n\nThen Orpheus spoke, he, the king of all minstrels, \"Let them match\ntheir song against mine;\" so he caught up his lyre and began his magic\nsong.\n\nNow they could see the Sirens. Three fair maidens, sitting on the\nbeach, beneath a rock red in the setting sun.\n\nSlowly they sung and sleepily, and as the heroes listened the oars\nfell from their hands, and their heads dropped, and they closed their\nheavy eyes, and all their toil seemed foolishness, and they thought of\ntheir renown no more.\n\nThen Medeia clapped her hands together and cried, \"Sing louder,\nOrpheus, sing louder.\"\n\nAnd Orpheus sang till his voice drowned the song of the Sirens, and\nthe heroes caught their oars again and cried, \"We will be men, and we\nwill dare and suffer to the last.\"\n\nAnd as Orpheus sang, they dashed their oars into the sea and kept\ntime to his music as they fled fast away, and the Sirens' voices died\nbehind them, in the hissing of the foam.\n\nBut when the Sirens saw that they were conquered, they shrieked for\nenvy and rage and leapt into the sea, and were changed into rocks.\n\nThen, as the Argonauts rowed on, they came to a fearful whirlpool, and\nthey could neither go back nor forward, for the waves caught them and\nspun them round and round. While they struggled in the whirlpool,\nthey saw near them on the other side of the strait a rock stand in the\nwater--a rock smooth and slippery, and half way up a misty cave.\n\nWhen Orpheus saw the rock he groaned. \"Little will it help us,\" he\ncried, \"to escape the jaws of the whirlpool. For in that cave lives a\nsea-hag, and from her cave she fishes for all things that pass by, and\nnever ship's crew boasted that they came safe past her rock.\"\n\nThen out of the depths came Thetis, the silver-footed bride of one of\nthe heroes. She came with all her nymphs around her, and they played\nlike snow-white dolphins, diving in from wave to wave before the ship,\nand in her wake and beside her, as dolphins play. And they caught the\nship and guided her, and passed her on from hand to hand, and tossed\nher through the billows, as maidens do the ball.\n\nAnd when the sea-hag stooped to seize the ship, they struck her, and\nshe shrank back into her cave affrighted, and the Argo leapt safe past\nher, while a fair breeze rose behind.\n\nThen Thetis and her nymphs sank down to their coral caves beneath the\nsea, and their gardens of green and purple, where flowers bloom all\nthe year round, while the heroes went on rejoicing, yet dreading what\nmight come next.\n\nThey rowed away for many a weary day till their water was spent and\ntheir food eaten, but at last they saw a long steep island.\n\n\"We will land here,\" they cried, \"and fill our water casks upon the\nshore.\"\n\nBut when they came nearer to the island they saw a wondrous sight. For\non the cliffs stood a giant, taller than any mountain pine.\n\nWhen he saw the Argo and her crew he came toward them, more swiftly\nthan the swiftest horse, and he shouted to them, \"You are pirates, you\nare robbers! If you land you shall die the death.\"\n\nThen the heroes lay on their oars in fear, but Medeia spoke: \"I know\nthis giant. If strangers land he leaps into his furnace, which flames\nthere among the hills, and when he is red-hot he rushes on them, and\nburns them in his brazen hands. But he has but one vein in all his\nbody filled with liquid fire, and this vein is closed with a nail. I\nwill find out where the nail is placed, and when I have got it into my\nhands you shall water your ship in peace.\"\n\nSo they took the witch-maiden and left her alone on the shore. And she\nstood there all alone in her beauty till the giant strode back red-hot\nfrom head to heel.\n\nWhen he saw the maiden he stopped. And she looked boldly up into his\nface and sang a magic song, and she held up a flash of crystal and\nsaid, \"I am Medeia, the witch-maiden. My sister Circe gave me this and\nsaid, 'Go, reward Talus, the faithful giant, for his fame is gone out\ninto all lands.' So come and I will pour this into your veins, that\nyou may live for ever young.\"\n\nAnd he listened to her false words, that simple Talus, and came near.\n\nBut Medeia said, \"Dip yourself in the sea first and cool yourself,\nlest you burn my tender hands. Then show me the nail in your vein, and\nin that will I pour the liquid from the crystal flask.\"\n\nThen that simple Talus dipped himself in the sea, and came and knelt\nbefore Medeia and showed the secret nail.\n\nAnd she drew the nail out gently, but she poured nothing in, and\ninstead the liquid fire streamed forth.\n\nTalus tried to leap up, crying, \"You have betrayed me, false\nwitch-maiden.\"\n\nBut she lifted up her hands before him and sang, till he sank beneath\nher spell.\n\nAnd as he sank, the earth groaned beneath his weight and the liquid\nfire ran from his heel, like a stream of lava, to the sea.\n\nThen Medeia laughed and called to the heroes, \"Come and water your\nship in peace.\"\n\nSo they came and found the giant lying dead, and they fell down and\nkissed Medeia's feet, and watered their ship, and took sheep and oxen,\nand so left that inhospitable shore.\n\nAt the next island they went ashore and offered sacrifices, and\nOrpheus purged them from their guilt.\n\nAnd at last, after many weary days and nights, all worn and tired, the\nheroes saw once more Pelion and Iolcos by the sea.\n\nThey ran the ship ashore, but they had no strength left to haul her\nup the beach, and they crawled out on the pebbles and wept, till they\ncould weep no more.\n\nFor the houses and the trees were all altered, and all the faces they\nsaw were strange, so that their joy was swallowed up in sorrow.\n\nThe people crowded round and asked them, \"Who are you, that you sit\nweeping here?\"\n\n\"We are the sons of your princes, who sailed in search of the Golden\nFleece, and we have brought it home. Give us news of our fathers and\nmothers, if any of them be left alive on earth.\"\n\nThen there was shouting and laughing and weeping, and all the kings\ncame to the shore, and they led away the heroes to their homes, and\nbewailed the valiant dead.\n\nAnd Jason went up with Medeia to the palace of his uncle Pelias. And\nwhen he came in, Pelias and AEson, Jason's father, sat by the fire, two\nold men, whose heads shook together as they tried to warm themselves\nbefore the fire.\n\nJason fell down at his father's knee and wept and said, \"I am your own\nson Jason, and I have brought home the Golden Fleece and a Princess of\nthe Sun's race for my bride.\"\n\nThen his father clung to him like a child, and wept, and would not let\nhim go, and cried, \"Promise never to leave me till I die.\"\n\nAnd Jason turned to his uncle Pelias, \"Now give me up the kingdom and\nfulfil your promise, as I have fulfilled mine.\" And his uncle gave him\nhis kingdom.\n\nSo Jason stayed at Iolcos by the sea.\n\n\n\n\nTHESEUS\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nHOW THESEUS LIFTED THE STONE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a Princess called Aithra. She had one fair\nson named Theseus, the bravest lad in all the land. And Aithra never\nsmiled but when she looked at him, for her husband had forgotten her,\nand lived far away.\n\nAithra used to go up to the temple of the gods, and sit there all day,\nlooking out across the bay, over the purple peaks of the mountains to\nthe Attic shore beyond.\n\nWhen Theseus was full fifteen years old, she took him up with her to\nthe temple, and into the thickets which grew in the temple yard. She\nled him to a tall plane-tree, and there she sighed and said, \"Theseus,\nmy son, go into that thicket and you will find at the plane-tree foot\na great flat stone. Lift it, and bring me what lies underneath.\"\n\nThen Theseus pushed his way in through the thick bushes, and searching\namong their roots he found a great flat stone, all overgrown with ivy\nand moss.\n\nHe tried to lift it, but he could not. And he tried till the sweat ran\ndown his brow from the heat, and the tears from his eyes for shame,\nbut all was of no avail. And at last he came back to his mother and\nsaid, \"I have found the stone, but I cannot lift it, nor do I think\nthat any man could, in all the land.\"\n\nThen she sighed and said, \"The day may come when you will be a\nstronger man than lives in all the land.\" And she took him by the hand\nand went into the temple and prayed, and came down again with Theseus\nto her home.\n\nAnd when a full year was past, she led Theseus up again to the temple\nand bade him lift the stone, but he could not.\n\nThen she sighed again and said the same words again, and went down and\ncame again next year. But Theseus could not lift the stone then, nor\nthe year after.\n\nHe longed to ask his mother the meaning of that stone, and what might\nbe underneath it, but her face was so sad that he had not the heart to\nask.\n\nSo he said to himself, \"The day shall surely come when I will lift\nthat stone.\"\n\nAnd in order to grow strong he spent all his days in wrestling and\nboxing, and hunting the boar and the bull and the deer among rocks,\ntill upon all the mountains there was no hunter so swift as Theseus,\nand all the people said, \"Surely the gods are with the lad!\"\n\nWhen his eighteenth year was past, Aithra led him up again to the\ntemple and said, \"Theseus, lift the stone this day, or never know who\nyou are.\"\n\nAnd Theseus went into the thicket and stood over the stone and tugged\nat it, and it moved.\n\nThen he said, \"If I break my heart in my body it shall come up.\" And\nhe tugged at it once more, and lifted it, and rolled it over with a\nshout.\n\nWhen he looked beneath it, on the ground lay a sword of bronze, with a\nhilt of glittering gold, and beside it a pair of golden sandals.\n\nTheseus caught them up and burst through the bushes and leapt to his\nmother, holding them high above his head.\n\nBut when she saw them she wept long in silence, hiding her fair face\nin her shawl. And Theseus stood by her and wept also, he knew not why.\n\nWhen she was tired of weeping Aithra lifted up her head and laid her\nfinger on her lips, and said, \"Hide them in your cloak, Theseus, my\nson, and come with me where we can look down upon the sea.\"\n\nThey went outside the sacred wall and looked down over the bright blue\nsea, and Aithra said, \"Do you see the land at our feet?\"\n\nAnd Theseus said, \"Yes, this is where I was born and bred.\"\n\nAnd she asked, \"Do you see the land beyond?\"\n\nAnd the lad answered, \"Yes, that is Attica, where the Athenian people\nlive!\"\n\n\"That is a fair land and large, Theseus, my son, and it looks towards\nthe sunny south. There the hills are sweet with thyme, and the meadows\nwith violet, and the nightingales sing all day in the thickets. There\nare twelve towns well peopled, the homes of an ancient race. What\nwould you do, Theseus, if you were king of such a land?\"\n\nTheseus stood astonished, as he looked across the broad bright sea\nand saw the fair Attic shore. His heart grew great within him, and he\nsaid, \"If I were king of such a land, I would rule it wisely and well,\nin wisdom and in might.\"\n\nAnd Aithra smiled and said, \"Take, then, the sword and the sandals and\ngo to thy father AEgeus, King of Athens, and say to him, 'The stone is\nlifted!' Then show him the sword and the sandals, and take what the\ngods shall send.\"\n\nBut Theseus wept, \"Shall I leave you, O my mother?\"\n\nShe answered, \"Weep not for me.\" Then she kissed Theseus and wept over\nhim, and went into the temple, and Theseus saw her no more.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHOW THESEUS SLEW THE CLUB-BEARER AND THE PINE-BENDER\n\n\nSo Theseus stood there alone, with his mind full of many hopes. And\nfirst he thought of going down to the harbor and hiring a swift ship\nand sailing across the bay to Athens. But even that seemed too slow\nfor him, and he longed for wings to fly across the sea and find his\nfather.\n\nAfter a while his heart began to fail him, and he sighed and said\nwithin himself, \"What if my father have other sons around him, whom he\nloves? What if he will not receive me? He has forgotten me ever since\nI was born. Why should he welcome me now?\"\n\nThen he thought a long while sadly, but at last he cried aloud, \"Yes,\nI will make him love me. I will win honor, and do such deeds that\nAEgeus shall be proud of me though he had fifty other sons.\"\n\n\"I will go by land and into the mountains, and so round to Athens.\nPerhaps there I may hear of brave adventures, and do something which\nshall win my father's love.\"\n\nSo Theseus went by land and away into the mountains, with his father's\nsword upon his thigh. And he went up into the gloomy glens, up and up,\ntill the lowland grew blue beneath his feet, and the clouds drove damp\nabout his head. But he went up and up, ever toiling on through bog and\nbrake, till he came to a pile of stones.\n\nOn the stones a man was sitting wrapped in a cloak of bear-skin. When\nhe saw Theseus, he rose, and laughed till the glens rattled.\n\n\"Who art thou, fair fly, who hast walked into the spider's web?\"\n\nTheseus walked on steadily, and made no answer, but he thought, \"Is\nthis some robber? Has an adventure come to me already?\"\n\nBut the strange man laughed louder than ever and said, \"Bold fly, know\nthou not these glens are the web from which no fly ever finds his way\nout again, and I am the spider who eats the flies? Come hither and let\nme feast upon you. It is of no use to run away, for these glens in the\nmountain make so cunning a web, that through it no man can find his\nway home.\"\n\nStill Theseus came steadily on, and he asked, \"And what is your name,\nbold spider, and where are your spider's fangs?\"\n\nThe strange man laughed again. \"Men call me the Club-bearer, and here\nis my spider's fang,\" and he lifted off from the stones at his side a\nmighty club of bronze. \"With this I pound all proud flies,\" he said.\n\"So give me up that gay sword of yours, and your mantle, and your\ngolden sandals, lest I pound you and by ill-luck you die!\"\n\nBut Theseus wrapped his mantle round his left arm quickly, in hard\nfolds, and drew his sword, and rushed upon the Club-bearer, and the\nClub-bearer rushed on him.\n\nThrice he struck at Theseus and made him bend under the blows like\na sapling. And thrice Theseus sprang upright after the blow, and he\nstabbed at the Club-bearer with his sword, but the loose folds of the\nbear-skin saved him.\n\nThen Theseus grew angry and closed with him, and caught him by the\nthroat, and they fell and rolled over together. But when Theseus rose\nup from the ground the Club-bearer lay still at his feet.\n\nSo Theseus took the strange man's club and his bear-skin and went upon\nhis journey down the glens, till he came to a broad green valley, and\nhe saw flocks and herds sleeping beneath the trees. And by the side\nof a pleasant fountain were nymphs and shepherds dancing, but no one\npiped to them as they danced.\n\n[Illustration: THEY LEAPT ACROSS THE POOL AND CAME TO HIM.]\n\nWhen they saw Theseus they shrieked, and the shepherds ran off and\ndrove away their flocks, while the nymphs dived into the fountain and\nvanished.\n\nTheseus wondered and laughed, \"What strange fancies have folks here,\nwho run away from strangers, and have no music when they dance.\" But\nhe was tired and dusty and thirsty, so he thought no more of them,\nbut drank and bathed in the clear pool, and then lay down in the shade\nunder a plane-tree, while the water sang him to sleep as it trickled\ndown from stone to stone.\n\nAnd when he woke he heard a whispering, and saw the nymphs peeping at\nhim across the fountain from the dark mouth of a cave, where they\nsat on green cushions of moss. One said, \"Surely he is not the\nClub-bearer,\" and another, \"He looks no robber, but a fair and gentle\nyouth.\"\n\nThen Theseus smiled and called them. \"Fair nymphs, I am not the\nClub-bearer. He sleeps among the kites and crows, but I have brought\naway his bear-skin and his club.\"\n\nThey leapt across the pool, and came to him, and called the shepherds\nback. And Theseus told them how he had slain the Club-bearer, and the\nshepherds kissed his feet and sang, \"Now we shall feed our flocks in\npeace, and not be afraid to have music when we dance. For the cruel\nClub-bearer has met his match, and he will listen for our pipes no\nmore.\"\n\nThen the shepherds brought him kids' flesh and wine, and the nymphs\nbrought him honey from the rocks.\n\nAnd Theseus ate and drank with them, and they begged him to stay, but\nhe would not.\n\n\"I have a great work to do;\" he said, \"I must go towards Athens.\"\n\nAnd the shepherds said, \"You must look warily about you, lest you meet\nthe robber, called the Pine-bender. For he bends down two pine-trees\nand binds all travelers hand and foot between them, and when he lets\nthe trees go their bodies are torn in sunder.\"\n\nBut Theseus went on swiftly, for his heart burned to meet that cruel\nrobber. And in a pine-wood at last he met him, where the road ran\nbetween high rocks.\n\nThere the robber sat upon a stone by the wayside, with a young\nfir-tree for a club across his knees, and a cord laid ready by his\nside, and over his head, upon the fir-top, hung the bones of murdered\nmen.\n\nThen Theseus shouted to him, \"Holla, thou valiant Pine-bender, hast\nthou two fir-trees left for me?\"\n\nThe robber leapt to his feet and answered, pointing to the bones above\nhis head, \"My larder has grown empty lately, so I have two fir-trees\nready for thee.\"\n\nHe rushed on Theseus, lifting his club, and Theseus rushed upon him,\nand they fought together till the greenwoods rang.\n\nThen Theseus heaved up a mighty stroke and smote the Pine-bearer down\nupon his face, and knelt upon his back, and bound him with his own\ncord, and said, \"As thou hast done to others, so shall it be done\nto thee.\" And he bent down two young fir-trees and bound the robber\nbetween them for all his struggling and his prayers, and as he let the\ntrees go the robber perished, and Theseus went on, leaving him to the\nhawks and crows.\n\nClearing the land of monsters as he went, Theseus saw at last the\nplain of Athens before him.\n\nAnd as he went up through Athens all the people ran out to see him,\nfor his fame had gone before him, and every one knew of his mighty\ndeeds, and they shouted, \"Here comes the hero!\"\n\nBut Theseus went on sadly and steadfastly, for his heart yearned after\nhis father. He went up the holy stairs to the spot where the palace\nof AEgeus stood. He went straight into the hall and stood upon the\nthreshold and looked round.\n\nHe saw his cousins sitting at the table, and loud they laughed and\nfast they passed the wine-cup round, but no AEgeus sat among them.\n\nThey saw Theseus and called to him, \"Holla, tall stranger at the door,\nwhat is your will to-day?\"\n\n\"I come to ask for hospitality.\"\n\n\"Then take it and welcome. You look like a hero and a bold warrior,\nand we like such to drink with us.\"\n\n\"I ask no hospitality of you; I ask it of AEgeus the King, the master\nof this house.\"\n\nAt that some growled, and some laughed and shouted, \"Heyday! we are\nall masters here.\"\n\n\"Then I am master as much as the rest of you,\" said Theseus, and he\nstrode past the table up the hall, and looked around for AEgeus, but he\nwas nowhere to be seen.\n\nThe revelers looked at him and then at each other, and each whispered\nto the man next him, \"This is a forward fellow; he ought to be thrust\nout at the door.\"\n\nBut each man's neighbor whispered in return, \"His shoulders are broad;\nwill you rise and put him out?\" So they all sat still where they were.\n\nThen Theseus called to the servants and said, \"Go tell King AEgeus,\nyour master, that Theseus is here and asks to be his guest awhile.\"\n\nA servant ran and told AEgeus, where he sat in his chamber with Medeia,\nthe dark witch-woman, watching her eye and hand.\n\nAnd when AEgeus heard of Theseus he turned pale and again red, and rose\nfrom his seat trembling, while Medeia, the witch, watched him like a\nsnake.\n\n\"What is Theseus to you?\" she asked.\n\nBut he said hastily, \"Do you not know who this Theseus is? The hero\nwho has cleared the country from all monsters. I must go out and\nwelcome him.\"\n\nSo AEgeus came into the hall, and when Theseus saw him his heart leapt\ninto his mouth, and he longed to fall on his neck and welcome him.\nBut he controlled himself and thought, \"My father may not wish for me,\nafter all. I will try him before I discover myself.\" And he bowed low\nbefore AEgeus and said, \"I have delivered the King's realm from many\nmonsters, therefore I am come to ask a reward of the King.\"\n\nOld AEgeus looked on him and loved him, but he only sighed and said,\n\"It is little that I can give you, noble lad, and nothing that is\nworthy of you.\"\n\n\"All I ask,\" said Theseus, \"is to eat and drink at your table.\"\n\n\"That I can give you,\" said AEgeus, \"if at least I am master in my own\nhall.\"\n\nThen he bade them put a seat for Theseus, and set before him the best\nof the feast, and Theseus sat and ate so much that all the company\nwondered at him, but always he kept his club by his side.\n\nBut Medeia, the dark witch-maiden, was watching all the while, and she\nsaw how the heart of AEgeus opened to Theseus, and she said to herself,\n\"This youth will be master here, unless I hinder it.\"\n\nThen she went back modestly to her chamber, while Theseus ate and\ndrank, and all the servants whispered, \"This, then, is the man who\nkilled the monsters! How noble are his looks, and how huge his size!\nAh, would he were our master's son!\"\n\nPresently Medeia came forth, decked in all her jewels and her rich\nEastern robes, and looking more beautiful than the day, so that all\nthe guests could look at nothing else. And in her right hand she held\na golden cup, and in her left a flask of gold. She came up to Theseus,\nand spoke in a sweet and winning voice, \"Hail to the hero! drink of my\ncharmed cup, which gives rest after every toil and heals all wounds;\"\nand as she spoke she poured sparkling wine into the cup.\n\nTheseus looked up into her fair face and into her deep dark eyes, and\nas he looked he shrank and shuddered, for they were dry eyes like the\neyes of a snake.\n\nThen he rose and said, \"The wine is rich, and the wine-bearer fair.\nLet her pledge me first herself in the cup that the wine may be\nsweeter.\"\n\nMedeia turned pale and stammered, \"Forgive me, fair hero, but I am ill\nand dare drink no wine.\"\n\nTheseus looked again into her eyes and cried, \"Thou shalt pledge me in\nthat cup or die!\"\n\nThen Medeia shrieked and dashed the cup to the ground and fled, for\nthere was strong poison in that wine.\n\nAnd Medeia called her dragon chariot, and sprang into it, and fled\naloft, away over land and sea, and no man saw her more.\n\n[Illustration: THESEUS LOOKED UP INTO HER FAIR FACE.]\n\nAEgeus cried, \"What have you done?\"\n\nBut Theseus said, \"I have rid the land of one enchantment, now I will\nrid it of one more.\"\n\nAnd he came close to AEgeus and drew from his cloak the sword and the\nsandals, and said the words which his mother bade him, \"The stone is\nlifted.\"\n\nAEgeus stepped back a pace and looked at the lad till his eyes grew\ndim, and then he cast himself on his neck and wept, and Theseus wept,\ntill they had no strength left to weep more.\n\nThen AEgeus turned to all the people and cried, \"Behold my son!\"\n\nBut the cousins were angry and drew their swords against Theseus.\nTwenty against one they fought, and yet Theseus beat them all, till at\nlast he was left alone in the palace with his new-found father.\n\nBut before nightfall all the town came up, with dances and songs,\nbecause the King had found an heir to his royal house.\n\nSo Theseus stayed with his father all the winter through, and when\nspring drew near, he saw all the people of Athens grow sad and silent.\nAnd he asked the reason of the silence and the sadness, but no one\nwould answer him a word.\n\nThen he went to his father and asked him, but AEgeus turned away his\nface and wept.\n\nBut when spring had come, a herald stood in the market-place and\ncried, \"O people and King of Athens, where is your yearly tribute?\"\nThen a great lamentation arose throughout the city.\n\nBut Theseus stood up before the herald and cried, \"I am a stranger\nhere. Tell me, then, why you come?\"\n\n\"To fetch the tribute which King AEgeus promised to King Minos. Blood\nwas shed here unjustly, and King Minos came to avenge it, and would\nnot leave Athens till the land had promised him tribute--seven youths\nand seven maidens every year, who go with me in a black-sailed ship.\"\n\nThen Theseus groaned inwardly and said, \"I will go myself with these\nyouths and maidens, and kill King Minos upon his royal throne.\"\n\nBut AEgeus shrieked and cried, \"You shall not go, my son, you shall not\ngo to die horribly, as those youths and maidens die. For Minos thrusts\nthem into a labyrinth, and no one can escape from its winding ways,\nbefore they meet the Minotaur, the monster who feeds upon the flesh\nof men. There he devours them horribly, and they never see this land\nagain.\"\n\nAnd Theseus said, \"Therefore all the more will I go with them, and\nslay the accursed Minotaur.\"\n\nThen AEgeus clung to his knees, but Theseus would not stay, and at\nlast he let him go, weeping bitterly, and saying only this last word,\n\"Promise me but this, if you return in peace, though that may hardly\nbe. Take down the black sail of the ship, for I shall watch for it all\nday upon the cliffs, and hoist instead a white sail, that I may know\nafar off that you are safe.\"\n\nAnd Theseus promised, and went out, and to the market-place, where the\nherald stood and drew lots for the youths and maidens who were to sail\nin that sad ship.\n\nThe people stood wailing and weeping as the lot fell on this one and\non that, but Theseus strode into the midst and cried, \"Here is one who\nneeds no lot. I myself will be one of the seven.\"\n\nAnd the herald asked in wonder, \"Fair youth, do you know whither you\nare going?\"\n\n\"I know,\" answered Theseus boldly; \"let us go down to the black-sailed\nship.\"\n\nSo they went down to the black-sailed ship, seven maidens and seven\nyouths, and Theseus before them all. And the people followed them,\nlamenting. But Theseus whispered to his companions, \"Have hope, for\nthe monster is not immortal.\"\n\nThen their hearts were comforted a little, but they wept as they went\non board; and the cliffs rang with the voice of their weeping.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW THESEUS SLEW THE MINOTAUR\n\n\nAnd the ship sailed slowly on, till at last it reached the land of\nCrete, and Theseus stood before King Minos, and they looked each other\nin the face.\n\nMinos bade take the youths and the maidens to prison, and cast them to\nthe Minotaur one by one.\n\nThen Theseus cried, \"A boon, O Minos! Let me be thrown first to the\nmonster. For I came hither, for that very purpose, of my own will and\nnot by lot.\"\n\n\"Who art thou, thou brave youth?\" asked the King.\n\n\"I am the son of AEgeus, the King of Athens, and I am come here to end\nthe yearly tribute.\"\n\nAnd Minos pondered a while, looking steadfastly at him, and he\nthought, \"The lad means to atone by his own death for his father's\nsin;\" and he answered mildly, \"Go back in peace, my son. It is a pity\nthat one so brave should die.\"\n\nBut Theseus said, \"I have sworn that I will not go back till I have\nseen the monster face to face.\"\n\nAt that Minos frowned and said, \"Then thou shalt see him.\"\n\nAnd they led Theseus away into the prison, with the other youths and\nmaidens.\n\nNow Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, saw Theseus as she came out of her\nwhite stone hall, and she loved him for his courage and his beauty,\nand she said, \"It is shameful that such a youth should die.\" And by\nnight she went down to the prison and told him all her heart, and\nsaid, \"Flee down to your ship at once, for I have bribed the guards\nbefore the door. Flee, you and all your friends, and go back in peace,\nand take me with you. For I dare not stay after you are gone. My\nfather will kill me miserably, if he knows what I have done.\"\n\nAnd Theseus stood silent awhile, for he was astonished and confounded\nby her beauty.\n\nBut at last he said, \"I cannot go home in peace till I have seen and\nslain this Minotaur, and put an end to the terrors of my land.\"\n\n\"And will you kill the Minotaur? How then will you do it?\" asked\nAriadne in wonder.\n\n\"I know not, nor do I care, but he must be strong if he be too strong\nfor me,\" said Theseus.\n\nThen she loved him all the more and said, \"But when you have killed\nhim, how will you find your way out of the labyrinth?\"\n\n\"I know not, neither do I care, but it must be a strange road if I do\nnot find it out before I have eaten up the monster's carcass.\"\n\nThen Ariadne loved him yet more, and said, \"Fair youth, you are too\nbold, but I can help you, weak as I am. I will give you a sword, and\nwith that perhaps you may slay the monster, and a clue of thread, and\nby that perhaps you may find your way out again. Only promise me that\nif you escape you will take me home with you.\"\n\nThen Theseus laughed and said, \"Am I not safe enough now?\" And he hid\nhis sword, and rolled up the clue in his hand, and then he fell down\nbefore Ariadne and kissed her hands and her feet, while she wept over\nhim a long while. Then the Princess went away, and Theseus lay down\nand slept sweetly.\n\nWhen evening came the guards led him away to the labyrinth. And he\nwent down into that doleful gulf, and he turned on the left hand and\non the right hand, and went up and down till his head was dizzy, but\nall the while he held the clue. For when he went in he fastened it to\na stone and left it to unroll out of his hand as he went on, and\nit lasted till he met the Minotaur in a narrow chasm between black\ncliffs.\n\nAnd when he saw the Minotaur, he stopped a while, for he had never\nseen so strange a monster. His body was a man's, but his head was the\nhead of a bull, and his teeth were the teeth of a lion. When he saw\nTheseus, he roared and put his head down and rushed right at him.\n\nBut Theseus stepped aside nimbly, and as the monster passed by, cut\nhim in the knee, and ere he could turn in the narrow path, he followed\nhim, and stabbed him again and again from behind, till the monster\nfled, bellowing wildly.\n\nTheseus followed him, holding the clue of thread in his left hand, and\nat last he came up with him, where he lay panting, and caught him by\nthe horns, and forced his head back, and drove the keen sword through\nhis throat.\n\nThen Theseus turned and went back, limping and weary, feeling his\nway by the clue of thread, till he came to the mouth of that doleful\nplace, and saw waiting for him--whom but Ariadne?\n\nAnd he whispered, \"It is done,\" and showed her the sword. Then she\nlaid her finger on her lips, and led him to the prison and opened the\ndoors, and set all the prisoners free, while the guards lay sleeping\nheavily, for Ariadne had drugged them with wine.\n\nSo they fled to their ship together, and leapt on board and hoisted up\nthe sail, and the night lay dark around them, so that they escaped all\nsafe, and Ariadne became the wife of Theseus.\n\nBut that fair Ariadne never came to Athens with her husband. Some say\nthat, as she lay sleeping on the shore, one of the gods found her\nand took her up into the sky, and some say that the gods drove away\nTheseus, and took Ariadne from him by force. But, however that may be,\nin his haste or his grief, Theseus forgot to put up the white sail.\n\nNow AEgeus his father sat on the cliffs and watched day after day, and\nstrained his old eyes across the waters to see the ship afar. And when\nhe saw the black sail he gave up Theseus for dead, and in his grief he\nfell into the sea and was drowned, and it is called the AEgean Sea to\nthis day.\n\nThen Theseus was King of Athens, and he guarded it and ruled it well,\nand many wise things he did, so that his people honored him after he\nwas dead, for many a hundred years, as the father of their freedom and\nof their laws.\n\n\n\n\nHERCULES\n\nADAPTED BY THOMAS CARTWRIGHT\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE TWELVE LABORS OF HERCULES\n\n\nHercules, the hero of strength and courage, was the son of Jupiter and\nAlcmene. His life was one long series of wonders.\n\nAs soon as he was born, Juno, who hated Alcmene with an exceeding\ngreat hatred, went to the Fates and begged them to make the life of\nthe newly-born babe hard and perilous.\n\nThe Fates were three, namely, Clotho who spun the thread of life,\nLachesis who settled the lot of gods and mortals in life, and Atropos\nwho cut the thread of life spun by Clotho.\n\nWhen once the Fates had decided what the lot of any being, whether god\nor man, was to be, Jupiter himself could not alter their decision.\n\nIt was to these fateful three, then, that Juno made her prayer\nconcerning the infant Hercules. She could not, however, prevent him\nfrom having an honorable career, since it was written that he should\ntriumph over all dangers and difficulties that might beset him.\n\nAll that was conceded to her was that Hercules should be put under the\ndominion of Eurystheus, King of Thebes, his eldest brother, a harsh\nand pitiless man. This only half satisfied the hatred of Juno, but it\nmade the life of Hercules exceedingly bitter.\n\nIn fact, Hercules was but a child, when Juno sent two enormous\nserpents against him. These serpents, gliding into his cradle, were on\nthe point of biting the child when he, with his own hands, seized them\nand strangled the life out of their slimy bodies.\n\nHaving grown up to man's estate, Hercules did many mighty deeds of\nvalor that need not be recounted here. But the hatred of Juno always\npursued him. At length, when he had been married several years, she\nmade him mad and impelled him in his madness to kill his own beloved\nchildren!\n\nWhen he came again to his sober senses, and learnt that he was the\nmurderer of his own offspring he was filled with horror, and betook\nhimself into exile so that he might hide his face from his fellow men.\nAfter a time he went to the oracle at Delphi to ask what he should do\nin atonement for his dreadful deed.\n\nHe was ordered to serve his brother Eurystheus--who, by the help of\nJuno, had robbed him of his kingdom--for twelve years. After this he\nwas to become one of the Immortals. Eurystheus feared that Hercules\nmight use his great strength and courage against him, in punishment\nfor the evil that he had done. He therefore resolved to banish him\nand to impose such tasks upon him as must certainly bring about his\ndestruction. Hence arose the famous twelve labors of Hercules.\n\nEurystheus first set Hercules to keep his sheep at Nemea and to\nkill the lion that ofttimes carried off the sheep, and sometimes the\nshepherd also.\n\nThe man-eater lurked in a wood that was hard by the sheep-run.\nHercules would not wait to be attacked by him. Arming himself with a\nheavy club and with a bow and arrows, he went in search of the lion's\nlair and soon found it.\n\nFinding that arrows and club made no impression upon the thick skin of\nthe lion, the hero was constrained to trust entirely to his own thews\nand sinews. Seizing the lion with both hands, he put forth all his\nmighty strength and strangled the beast just as he had strangled the\nserpents in his cradle. Then, having despoiled the dead man-eater of\nhis skin, Hercules henceforth wore this trophy as a garment, and as a\nshield and buckler.\n\nIn those days, there was in Greece a monstrous serpent known as the\nHydra of Lerna, because it haunted a marsh of that name whence it\nissued in search of prey. As his second labor, Hercules was sent to\nslay this creature.\n\nThis reptile had nine heads of which the midmost was immortal. When\nHercules struck off one of these heads with his club, two others\nat once appeared in its place. By the help of his servant, Hercules\nburned off the nine heads, and buried the immortal one beneath a huge\nrock.\n\nThe blood of the Hydra was a poison so subtle that Hercules, by\ndipping the points of his arrows therein, made them so deadly that no\nmortal could hope to recover from a wound inflicted by them. We shall\nsee later that Hercules himself died from the poison of one of these\nself-same arrows.\n\nThe third labor imposed upon Hercules by Eurystheus was the capture of\nthe Arcadian Stag. This remarkable beast had brazen feet and antlers\nof solid gold. Hercules was to carry the stag alive to Eurystheus.\n\nIt proved no easy task to do this. The stag was so fleet of foot that\nno one had been able to approach it. For more than a year, over hill\nand dale, Hercules pursued the beast without ever finding a chance of\ncapturing it without killing it.\n\nAt length he shot at it and wounded it with an arrow--not, you may\nbe sure, with one of the poisoned ones--and, having caught it thus\nwounded, he carried it on his shoulder to his brother and thus\ncompleted the third of his labors.\n\nIn the neighborhood of Mount Erymanthus, in Arcadia, there lived, in\nthose far-off days, a savage boar that was in the habit of sallying\nforth from his lair and laying waste the country round about, nor had\nany man been able to capture or restrain him. To free the country from\nthe ravages of this monster was the fourth labor of Hercules.\n\nHaving tracked the animal to his lurking place after chasing him\nthrough the deep snow, Hercules caught him in a net and bore him away\nin triumph on his shoulders to the feet of the amazed Eurystheus.\n\nAugeas, King of Elis, in Greece, not far from Mount Olympus, owned a\nherd of oxen 3,000 in number. They were stabled in stables that had\nnot been cleaned out for thirty years. The stench was terrible and\ngreatly troubled the health of the land. Eurystheus set Hercules the\ntask of cleaning out these Augean stables in a single day!\n\nBut the wit of the hero was equal to the occasion. With his great\nstrength he diverted the flow of two rivers that ran their courses\nnear the stables and made them flow right through the stables\nthemselves, and lo! the nuisance that had been growing for thirty\nyears was no more! Such was the fifth labor of Hercules.\n\nOn an island in a lake near Stymphalus, in Arcadia, there nested in\nthose days some remarkable and terrible birds--remarkable because\ntheir claws, wings and beaks were brazen, and terrible because they\nfed on human flesh and attacked with their terrible beaks and claws\nall who came near the lake. To kill these dreadful birds was the sixth\nlabor.\n\nMinerva supplied Hercules with a brazen rattle with which he roused\nthe birds from their nests, and then slew them with his poisoned\narrows while they were on the wing.\n\nThis victory made Hercules popular throughout the whole of Greece, and\nEurystheus saw that nothing he could devise was too hard for the hero\nto accomplish.\n\nThe seventh labor was to capture a mad bull that the Sea-god Neptune\nhad let loose in the island of Crete, of which island Minos was at\nthat time King.\n\nThis ferocious creature breathed out from his nostrils a whirlwind of\nflaming fire. But Hercules was, as you no doubt have guessed, too much\nfor the brazen bull.\n\nHe not only caught the monster, but tamed him, and bore him aloft on\nhis shoulders, into the presence of the affrighted Eurystheus, who was\nat a loss to find a task impossible for Hercules to perform.\n\nThe taking of the mares of Diomedes was the eighth labor. These horses\nwere not ordinary horses, living on corn. They were flesh eaters, and\nmoreover, they devoured human beings, and so were hateful to mankind.\n\nOn this occasion Hercules was not alone. He organised a hunt and,\nby the help of a few friends, caught the horses and led them to\nEurystheus. The scene of this labor was Thrace, an extensive region\nlying between the AEgean Sea, the Euxine or Black Sea, and the Danube.\n\nSeizing the girdle of Hippolyte was the next feat set for the hero.\nThis labor was due to the desire of the daughter of Eurystheus for the\ngirdle of Hippolyte, Queen of the Amazons--a tribe of female warriors.\nIt is said that the girls had their right breasts cut off in order\nthat they might use the bow with greater ease in battle! This, indeed,\nis the meaning of the term Amazon, which signifies \"breastless.\"\n\nAfter a troublesome journey Hercules arrived safely at the Court of\nHippolyte, who received him kindly; and this labor might, perchance,\nhave been a bloodless one had not his old enemy Juno stirred up the\nfemale warriors against him.\n\nIn the fight that followed, Hercules killed Hippolyte--a feat scarcely\nto be proud of--and carried off her girdle, and thus the vanity of the\ndaughter of Eurystheus was gratified.\n\nTo capture the oxen of Geryon was the tenth labor of Hercules. In the\nperson of Geryon we meet another of those strange beings in which\nthe makers of myths and fairy tales seem to revel. Geryon was\na three-bodied monster whose cattle were kept by a giant and a\ntwo-headed dog!\n\nIt is said that Hercules, on his way to the performance of this tenth\nlabor, formed the Pillars of Hercules--those two rocky steeps\nthat guard the entrance to the Straits of Gibraltar, i.e., Calpa\n(Gibraltar) and Abyla (Ceuta)--by rending asunder the one mountain\nthese two rocks are said to have formed, although now they are\neighteen miles apart.\n\nHercules slew the giant, the two-headed dog and Geryon himself, and in\ndue course brought the oxen to Eurystheus.\n\nSometime afterwards, Eurystheus, having heard rumors of a wonderful\ntree which, in some unknown land, yielded golden apples, was moved\nwith great greed to have some of this remarkable fruit. Hence he\ncommanded Hercules to make the quest of this tree his eleventh labor.\nThe hero had no notion where the tree grew, but he was bound by his\nbond to obey the King, so he set out and after a time reached the\nkingdom of Atlas, King of Africa. He had been told that Atlas could\ngive him news of the tree.\n\nI must tell you that King Atlas, having in the olden time helped the\nTitans in their wars against the gods, was undergoing punishment for\nthis offence, his penance being to hold up the starry vault of heaven\nupon his shoulders. This means, perhaps, that in the kingdom of Atlas\nthere were some mountains so high that their summits seemed to touch\nthe sky.\n\nHercules offered to relieve Atlas of his load for a time, if he would\nbut tell him where the famous tree was, upon which grew the golden\nfruit. Atlas consented, and for some days Hercules supported the earth\nand the starry vault of heaven upon his shoulders.\n\nThen Atlas opened the gate of the Garden of the Hesperides to\nHercules. These Hesperides were none other than the three daughters of\nAtlas, and it was their duty, in which they were helped by a dragon,\nto guard the golden apples.\n\nHercules killed the dragon and carried off the apples, but they were\nafterwards restored to their place by Minerva.\n\nCerberus, as perhaps you know, was the triple-headed dog that guarded\nthe entrance to the nether world. To bring up this three-headed\nmonster from the land of the dead was the last of the twelve labors.\nIt was also the hardest.\n\nPluto, the god of the nether world, told Hercules he might carry\noff the dog if he could take him without using club or spear--never\ndreaming that the hero could perform such a difficult feat.\n\nHercules penetrated to the entrance of Pluto's gloomy regions, and,\nputting forth his strength succeeded, not only in seizing Cerberus,\nbut also in carrying him to Eurystheus, and so brought the twelve\nlabors to an end, and was released from his servitude to his cruel\nbrother.\n\nThese exploits of strength and endurance do not by any means complete\nthe tale of the wonderful doings of the great Greek hero. He continued\nhis deeds of daring to the end of his life.\n\nOne of the last of his exploits was to kill the eagle that daily\ndevoured the liver of Prometheus, whose story is both curious and\ninteresting.\n\nHe is said to have been the great friend of mankind, and was chained\nto a rock on Mount Caucasus because he stole fire from heaven and gave\nit as a gift to the sons of man.\n\nWhile in chains an eagle was sent by Jupiter daily to feed on\nPrometheus's liver, which Jupiter made to grow again each night. From\nthis continuous torture he was released by Hercules, who slew the\neagle and burst asunder the bonds of this friend of man.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHERCULES IN THE NETHER WORLD\n\n\nTheseus and Pirithous were two Athenians, who, after having been at\nenmity for a long time at last became the very best of friends. They,\nlike Hercules, had passed their youth in doing doughty deeds for the\nbenefit of mankind, and their fame had spread abroad throughout the\nland of Greece. This did not prevent them from forming a very foolish\nproject. They actually planned to go down to Hades and carry off\nPluto's wife, Proserpina, whom Pirithous himself wished to marry.\n\nThis rashness brought about their ruin, for they were seized by\nPluto and chained to a rock. All this Hercules, who was the friend\nof Theseus, learnt while on one of his journeys, and he resolved to\nrescue Theseus from his eternal punishment.\n\nAs for Pirithous, the prime mover in the attempted outrage, him\nHercules meant to leave to his fate.\n\nHercules had been warned to take a black dog to sacrifice to Hecate\nand a cake to mollify Cerberus, as was usual; but he would not listen\nto such tales and meant to force his way to Theseus. When he found\nhimself face to face with Cerberus he seized him, threw him down and\nchained him with strong chains.\n\nThe next difficulty in the way was black and muddy Acheron, the first\nof the seven rivers that ran round Hades, and formed a barrier between\nthe living and the departed.\n\nThis river had not always run under the vaults of Hades. Formerly its\ncourse was upon the earth. But when the Titans attempted to scale\nthe heaven, this river had the ill luck to quench their thirst,\nand Jupiter to punish even the waters of the river for abetting his\nenemies, turned its course aside into the under world where its waves,\nslow-moving and filthy, lost themselves in Styx, the largest of all\nthe rivers of Hades, which ran round Pluto's gloomy kingdom no less\nthan nine times.\n\nOn reaching the banks of Styx, Hercules was surprised to see flying\naround him a crowd of disconsolate spirits, whom Charon the Ferryman\nrefused to row across Styx, because they could not pay him his fee of\nan obol, a Greek coin worth about three cents of our money, which the\nGreeks were accustomed to place in the mouths of their dead for the\npurpose, as they thought, of paying Charon his ferry fee.\n\nFierce Charon frowned when he beheld Hercules for he feared his light\nboat of bark would sink under his weight, it being only adapted for\nthe light and airy spirits of the dead; but when the son of Jupiter\ntold him his name he was mollified and allowed the hero to take his\nplace at his side.\n\nAs soon as the boat had touched the shore, Hercules went towards the\ngloomy palace of Pluto where he with difficulty, on account of the\ndarkness, saw Pluto seated upon an ebony throne by the side of his\nbeloved Proserpina.\n\nPluto was not at all pleased to see the hero, as he hated the living\nand had interest only in the shades of the dead. When Hercules\nannounced himself, however, he gave him a permit to go round his\nkingdom and, in addition, acceded to his prayer for the release of\nTheseus.\n\nAt the foot of Pluto's throne Hercules saw Death the Reaper. He was\nclothed in a black robe spotted with stars and his fleshless hand\nheld the sharp sickle with which he is said to cut down mortals as the\nreaper cuts down corn.\n\nOur hero was glad to escape from this dismal palace and as he did not\nknow exactly where to find Theseus he began to make the circuit of\nHades. During his progress he saw the shades of many people of whom,\non earth, he had heard much talk.\n\nHe had been wandering about some time when, in a gloomy chamber, he\nsaw three old sisters, wan and worn, spinning by the feeble light of\na lamp. They were the Fates, deities whose duty it was to thread the\ndays of all mortals who appeared on earth, were it but for an instant.\n\nClotho, the spinner of the thread of life, was the eldest of the\nthree. She held in her hand a distaff, wound with black and white\nwoollen yarn, with which were sparingly intermixed strands of silk and\ngold. The wool stood for the humdrum everyday life of man: the silk\nand gold marked the days of mirth and gladness, always, alas! too few\nin number.\n\nLachesis, the second of the Fates, was quickly turning with her left\nhand a spindle, while her right hand was leading a fine thread which\nthe third sister, Atropos by name, used to cut with a pair of sharp\nshears at the death of each mortal.\n\nYou may imagine how hard these three sisters worked when you remember\nthat the thread of life of every mortal had to pass through their\nfateful fingers. Hercules would have liked them to tell him how long\nthey had yet to spin for him, but they had no time to answer questions\nand so the hero passed on.\n\nSome steps farther he stopped before three venerable looking old men,\nseated upon a judgment seat, judging, as it seemed, a man newly come\nto Pluto's kingdom.\n\nThey were Minos, AEacus and Rhadamanthus, the three judges of Hades,\nwhose duty it was to punish the guilty by casting them into a dismal\ngulf, Tartarus, whence none might ever emerge, and to reward the\ninnocent by transporting them to the Elysian Fields where delight\nfollowed delight in endless pleasure.\n\nThese judges could never be mistaken because Themis, the Goddess of\nJustice, held in front of them a pair of scales in which she weighed\nthe actions of men. Their decrees were instantly carried out by a\npitiless goddess, Nemesis, or Vengeance by name, armed with a whip red\nwith the gore of her sinful victims.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nBLACK TARTARUS AND THE ELYSIAN FIELDS\n\n\nImmediately on quitting the presence of the three judges, Hercules saw\nthem open out before him an immense gulf whence arose thick clouds of\nblack smoke. This smoke hid from view a river of fire that rolled its\nfiery waves onwards with a deafening din.\n\nNot far remote from this rolled Cocytus, another endless stream, fed\nby the tears of the wretches doomed to Black Tartarus, in which place\nof eternal torment Hercules now found himself.\n\nThe rulers of these mournful regions were the Furies who, with unkempt\nhair and armed with whips, tormented the condemned without mercy by\nshowing them continually in mirrors the images of their former crimes.\n\nInto Tartarus were thrown, never to come out again, the shades or\nmanes of traitors, ingrates, perjurers, unnatural children, murderers\nand hypocrites who had during their lives pretended to be upright and\nhonorable in order to deceive the just.\n\nBut these wretches were not the only denizens of Black Tartarus. There\nwere to be seen great scoundrels who had startled the world with their\nfrightful crimes. For these Pluto and the Furies had invented special\ntortures.\n\nAmong the criminals so justly overtaken by the divine vengeance\nHercules noticed Salmoneus, whom he had formerly met upon earth. This\nmadman, whose pride had overturned his reason, thought himself to be a\ngod equal to the Thunderer himself.\n\nIn order to imitate remotely the rolling of thunder, he used to be\ndriven at night, over a brazen bridge, in a chariot, whence he hurled\nlighted torches upon his unhappy slaves who were crowded on the bridge\nand whom his guards knocked down in imitation of Jove's thunder-bolts.\n\nIndignant at the pride and cruelty of the tyrant, Jupiter struck him\nwith lightning in deadly earnest and then cast him into the outer\ndarkness of Tartarus, where he was for ever burning without being\nconsumed.\n\nSisyphus, the brother of Salmoneus, was no better than he. When on\nearth, he had been the terror of Attica, where, as a brigand, he had\nrobbed and murdered with relentless cruelty.\n\nTheseus, whom Hercules was bent on freeing from his torment, had met\nand killed this robber-assassin, and Jupiter, for his sins, decreed\nthat the malefactor should continually be rolling up a hill in\nTartarus a heavy stone which, when with incredible pains he had\nbrought nearly to the top, always rolled back again, and he had to\nbegin over and over again the heart-breaking ascent.\n\nSome distance from Sisyphus Hercules came upon Tantalus, who, in the\nflesh, had been King of Phrygia, but who now, weak from hunger and\nparched with thirst, was made to stand to his chin in water with\nbranches of tempting luscious fruit hanging ripe over his head. When\nhe essayed to drink the water it always went from him, and when he\nstretched out his hand to pluck the fruit, back the branches sprang\nout of reach.\n\nIn addition an immense rock, hung over his head, threatened every\nmoment to crush him.\n\nIt is said that Tantalus, when in the flesh, had betrayed the secrets\nof the gods and also committed other great crimes. For this he was\n\"tantalized\" with food and drink, which, seeming always to be within\nhis reach, ever mocked his hopes by eluding his grasp.\n\nThe groans of a crowd of disheveled women next attracted the\naffrighted attention of Hercules. They were forty-nine of the fifty\ndaughters of Danaus, King of Argos, who, at the instigation of their\nfather, had killed their husbands because Danaus thought they were\nconspiring to depose him.\n\nOne only of the fifty, to wit Hypermnestra, had the courage to disobey\nthis unlawful command and so saved the life of Lynceus, her husband,\nwith whom she fled. Later on Lynceus returned and slew the cruel King\nin battle.\n\nTo punish the forty-nine Danaides, Jupiter cast them into the outer\ndarkness of Black Tartarus, where they were ever engaged in the\nhopeless task of pouring water into a sieve. Hypermnestra, on the\ncontrary, was honored while alive, and also after her death, for\nloving goodness even more than she loved her father.\n\nGlutted with horror Hercules at length quitted gloomy Tartarus and\nbeheld in front of him still another river. This was Lethe. Whoso\ndrank the waters of this river, which separated the place of torment\nfrom the abode of the blest, lost memory of all that had been\naforetime in his mind, and so was no longer troubled by even the\nremembrance of human misery.\n\nAcross Lethe stretched the Elysian Fields where the shades of the\nblest dwelt in bliss without alloy. An enchanting greenness made the\nsweet-smelling groves as pleasant to the eye as they were to the sense\nof smell. Sunlit, yet never parched with torrid heat, everywhere their\nverdure charmed the delighted eye, and all things conspired to make\nthe shades of the good and wise, who were privileged to dwell in these\nElysian Fields, delightfully happy.\n\nHercules saw, in these shady regions of the blest, a crowd of kings,\nheroes and men and women of lower degree who, while on earth, had\nloved and served their fellow men.\n\nHaving at length found and released Theseus, Hercules set out with him\nfor the upper world. The two left Hades by an ivory door, the key of\nwhich Pluto had confided to their care.\n\nWhat awesome tales they had to recount to their wondering friends of\nthe marvels of Black Tartarus and of Radiant Elysium!\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE TUNIC OF NESSUS THE CENTAUR\n\n\nThere abode in Thessaly, in the days of Hercules, a strange race of\nmen who had the head and arms of a man together with the body of a\nhorse. They were called Centaurs, or Bull-Slayers.\n\nOne of them named Cheiron, famous for his knowledge of medicine,\nmusic and botany, had been the teacher of Hercules. But many of them,\nalthough learned, were not good. Hercules and Theseus had waged war on\nthem and had killed many, so that their numbers were greatly lessened.\n\nHaving married Deianira, the daughter of a powerful King of Calydon,\nin Greece, Hercules was traveling home with her when he came to\nthe banks of a river and was at a loss how to cross it. Seeing his\nperplexity, Nessus, one of the Centaurs, offered to take Deianira on\nhis back and carry her over the stream. This offer Hercules gladly\naccepted.\n\nNo sooner, however, did the crafty Centaur obtain possession of\nDeianira than he made off with her, intending to have her as his own\nwife. You can easily imagine how angry this outrage made Hercules. He\nshot one of his poisoned arrows with so much force that it went right\nthrough the traitor Centaur, and wounded him even unto death.\n\nBut, before dying, Nessus had time to tell Deianira that if she wanted\nto keep Hercules always true to her she had but to take his shirt,\nand, when her husband's love was waning, prevail on him to wear it.\n\nDeianira took the shirt, and shortly afterwards, being afraid that her\nhusband was ceasing to love her, she sent it to him as a present.\n\nNow, you will remember that Hercules had shot through the shirt of\nNessus one of his poisoned arrows, and you will not be surprised\nto hear that some of the poison had remained in the shirt. So when\nHercules put it on, which he did immediately upon receiving it, he was\nseized with frenzy and, in his madness, he uttered terrible cries and\ndid dreadful deeds.\n\nWith his powerful hands he broke off huge pieces of rock, tore up\npine-trees by their roots and hurled them with resounding din into the\nvalley.\n\nHe could not take off the fatal shirt, and as he tore off portions of\nit he tore, at the same time, his quivering flesh.\n\nThe servant of Deianira who had carried him the fatal shirt, and who\nwished to solace him in his pain, he seized as she approached him and\nflung headlong into the sea, where she was changed into a rock that\nlong, so runs the legend, kept its human form.\n\nBut at length the majesty and the courage of the hero asserted\nthemselves, and, although still in agony, his madness left him.\n\nCalling to his side his friend Philoctetes, he wished to embrace\nhim once more before dying; but fearful lest he should, in so doing,\ninfect his friend with the deadly poison that was consuming him, he\ncried in his agony: \"Alas, I am not even permitted to embrace thee!\"\n\nThen he gathered together the trees he had uprooted and made a huge\nfuneral pyre, such as was used by the ancients in burning their dead.\nClimbing to the top of the heap, he spread out the skin of the Nemean\nlion, and, supporting himself upon his club, gave the signal for\nPhiloctetes to kindle the fire that was to reduce him to ashes.\n\nIn return for this service he gave Philoctetes a quiver full of those\ndeadly arrows that had been dipped in the blood of the Hydra of Lerna.\n\nHe further enjoined his friend to let no man know of his departure\nfrom life, to the intent that the fear of his approach might prevent\nfresh monsters and new robbers from ravaging the earth.\n\nThus died Hercules, and after his death he was received as a god\namongst the Immortals on Mount Olympus, where he married Hebe, Jove's\ncupbearer. In his honor mortals were commanded to build altars and to\nraise temples.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PERILOUS VOYAGE OF AENEAS\n\nADAPTED BY ALICE ZIMMEKN\n\n\nOnce upon a time, nearly three thousand years ago, the city of Troy\nin Asia Minor was at the height of its prosperity. It was built on a\nfortified hill on the southern slopes of the Hellespont, and encircled\nby strong walls that the gods had helped to build. Through their\nfavor Troy became so strong and powerful that she subdued many of\nthe neighboring states and forced them to fight for her and do her\nbidding. Thus it happened that when the Greeks came to Asia with an\narmy of 100,000 men, Troy was able to hold out against them for nine\nyears, and in the tenth was only taken by a trick.\n\nIn the \"Iliad\" of Homer you may read all about the quarrel between the\nTrojans and Greeks, the fighting before Troy and the brave deeds done\nby Hector and Achilles, and many other heroes. You will see there how\nthe gods took part in the quarrel, and how Juno, who was the wife of\nJupiter and queen of heaven, hated Troy because Paris had given the\ngolden apple to Venus as the fairest among goddesses. Juno never\nforgave this insult to her beauty, and vowed that she would not rest\ntill the hated city was destroyed and its very name wiped from the\nface of the earth. You shall now hear how she carried out her threat,\nand overwhelmed AEneas with disasters.\n\nAfter a siege that lasted ten years Troy was taken at last by means\nof the wooden horse, which the Trojans foolishly dragged into the city\nwith their own hands. Inside it were hidden a number of Greeks, who\nwere thus carried into the heart of the enemy's city. The Trojans\ncelebrated the departure of the Greeks by feasting and drinking far\ninto the night; but when at last they retired to rest, the Greeks\nstole out of their hiding-place, and opened the gates to their army,\nwhich had only pretended to withdraw. Before the Trojans had recovered\ntheir wits the town was full of enemies, who threw blazing torches on\nthe houses and killed every citizen who fell into their hands.\n\nAmong the many noble princes who fought against the Greeks none was\nbraver and handsomer than AEneas. His mother was the goddess Venus, and\nhis father a brave and powerful Prince named Anchises, while Creusa,\nhis wife, was one of King Priam's daughters. On that dreadful night,\nwhen the Greeks were burning and killing in the very streets of Troy,\nAEneas lay sleeping in his palace when there appeared to him a strange\nvision. He thought that Hector stood before him carrying the images of\nthe Trojan gods and bade him arise and leave the doomed city. \"To you\nTroy entrusts her gods and her fortunes. Take these images, and go\nforth beyond the seas, and with their auspices found a new Troy on\nforeign shores.\"\n\nRoused from his slumbers AEneas sprang up in haste, put on his armor\nand rushed into the fray. He was joined by a few comrades, and\ntogether they made their way through the enemy, killing all who\nblocked their path. But when they reached the royal palace and found\nthat the Greeks had already forced their way in and killed the aged\nman by his own hearth, AEneas remembered his father and his wife and\nhis little son Ascanius. Since he could not hope to save the city he\nmight at least take thought for his own kin. While he still hesitated\nwhether to retire or continue the fight, his goddess mother appeared\nand bade him go and succor his household. \"Your efforts to save the\ncity are vain,\" she said. \"The gods themselves make war on Troy. Juno\nstands by the gate urging on the Greeks, Jupiter supplies them with\nhope and courage, and Neptune is breaking down with his trident the\nwalls he helped to raise. Fly, my son, fly. I will bring you safely to\nyour own threshold.\"\n\nGuided by her protecting hand, AEneas came in safety to his palace,\nand bade his family prepare in all haste for flight. But his father\nrefused to stir a step. \"Let me die here at the enemy's hands,\" he\nimplored. \"Better thus than to go into exile in my old age. Do you go,\nmy son, whither the gods summon you, and leave me to my fate.\" In\nvain AEneas reasoned and pleaded, in vain he refused to go without his\nfather; neither prayers nor entreaties would move Anchises till the\ngods sent him a sign. Suddenly the child's hair burst into flames.\nThe father and mother were terrified, but Anchises recognised the good\nomen, and prayed the gods to show whether his interpretation was the\ntrue one. In answer there came a clap of thunder and a star flashed\nacross the sky and disappeared among the woods on Mount Ida. Then\nAnchises was sure that the token was a true one. \"Delay no more!\" he\ncried. \"I will accompany you, and go in hope wheresoever the gods of\nmy country shall lead me. This is a sign from heaven, and the gods, if\nit be their will, may yet preserve our city.\"\n\n\"Come then, father!\" cried AEneas joyfully. \"Let me take you on my\nback, for your feeble limbs would move too slowly for the present\ndanger. You shall hold the images of the gods, since it would be\nsacrilege for me to touch them with my blood-stained hands. Little\nAscanius shall take my hand, and Creusa will follow us closely.\"\n\nHe now ordered the servants to collect all the most valuable\npossessions, and bring them to him at the temple of Ceres, just\noutside the city. Then he set out with father, wife and son, and they\ngroped their way through the city by the light of burning homesteads.\nThus they passed at last through the midst of the enemy, and reached\nthe temple of Ceres. There, to his dismay, AEneas missed Creusa. He\nrushed back to the city and made his way to his own house. He found it\nin flames, and the enemy were sacking the ruins. Nowhere could he find\na trace of his wife. Wild with grief and anxiety he wandered at random\nthrough the city till suddenly he fancied he saw Creusa. But it was\nher ghost, not her living self. She spoke to her distracted husband\nand bade him grieve no more. \"Think not,\" she said, \"that this has\nbefallen without the will of the gods. The Fates have decided that\nCreusa shall not follow you to your new home. There are long and weary\nwanderings before you, and you must traverse many stormy seas before\nyou come to the western land where the river Tiber pours its gentle\nstream through the fertile pastures of Italy. There shall you find\na kingdom and a royal bride. Cease then to mourn for Creusa.\" AEneas\ntried to clasp her in his arms, but in vain, for he only grasped the\nempty air. Then he understood that the gods desired him to go forth\ninto the world alone.\n\nWhile AEneas was seeking Creusa a group of Trojans who had escaped\nthe enemy and the flames had collected at the temple of Ceres, and he\nfound them ready and willing to join him and follow his fortunes. The\nfirst rays of the sun were touching the peaks of Ida when Aeneas\nand his comrades turned their backs on the ill-fated city, and went\ntowards the rising sun and the new hope.\n\nFor several months AEneas and his little band of followers lived as\nrefugees among the hills of Ida, and their numbers grew as now one,\nnow another, came to join them. All through the winter they were hard\nat work cutting down trees and building ships, which were to carry\nthem across the seas. When spring came the fleet was ready, and the\nlittle band set sail. First they merely crossed the Hellespont to\nThrace, for Aeneas hoped to found a city here and revive the name of\nTroy. But bad omens came to frighten the Trojans and drive them back\nto their ships.\n\nThey now took a southward course, and sailed on without stopping till\nthey reached Delos, the sacred isle of Apollo. Here Aeneas entered the\ntemple and offered prayer to the lord of prophecy. \"Grant us a home,\nApollo, grant us an abiding city. Preserve a second Troy for the\nscanty remnant that escaped the swords of the Greeks and the wrath\nof cruel Achilles. Tell us whom to follow, whither to turn, where to\nfound our city.\"\n\nHis prayer was not offered in vain, for a voice spoke in answer. \"Ye\nhardy sons of Dardanus, the land that erst sent forth your ancestral\nrace shall welcome you back to its fertile fields. Go and seek your\nancient mother. There shall the offspring of AEneas rule over all the\nlands, and their children's children unto the furthest generations.\"\n\nWhen he had heard this oracle, Anchises said, \"In the middle of the\nsea lies an island called Crete, which is sacred to Jupiter. There\nwe shall find an older Mount Ida, and beside it the cradle of our\nrace. Thence, if tradition speaks truth, our great ancestor Teucrus\nset sail for Asia and there he founded his kingdom, and named our\nmountain Ida. Let us steer our course therefore to Crete, and if\nJupiter be propitious, the third dawn will bring us to its shores.\"\n\nAccordingly they set out again full of hope, and passed in and out\nagain among the gleaming islands of the AEgean, till at last they\ncame to Crete. There they disembarked, and began to build a city.\nThe houses were rising, the citadel was almost ready, the fields were\nplanted and sown, and the young men were seeking wives, when suddenly\nthe crops were stricken by a blight and the men by a pestilence.\nSurely, they thought, this could not be the home promised them by\nApollo. In this distress Anchises bade his son return to Delos and\nimplore the gods to vouchsafe further counsel.\n\nAt night AEneas lay down to rest, troubled by many anxieties, when\nsuddenly he was roused by the moonlight streaming through the window\nand illuminating the images of the Trojan gods. It seemed as though\nthey opened their lips and spoke to him. \"All that Apollo would have\ntold you at Delos, we may declare to you here, for he has given us a\nmessage to you. We followed your arms after the burning of Troy,\nand traversed the ocean under your guidance, and we shall raise your\ndescendants to the stars and give dominion to their city. But do not\nseek it here. These are not the shores that Apollo assigns you, nor\nmay Crete be your abiding place. Far to the west lies the land which\nthe Greeks called Hesperia, but which now bears the name of Italy.\nThere is our destined home; thence came Dardanus, our great ancestor\nand the father of our race.\"\n\nAmazed at this vision, AEneas sprang up and lifted his hands to heaven\nin prayer. Then he hastened to tell Anchises of this strange event.\nThey resolved to tarry no longer, but turning their backs on the\nrising walls they drew their ships down to the sea again, and once\nmore set forth in search of a new country.\n\nNow they sailed towards the west, and rounded the south of Greece into\nthe Ionian Sea. But a storm drove them out of their course, and the\ndarkness was so thick that they could not tell night from day, and the\nhelmsman, Palinurus, knew not whither he was steering. Thus they were\ntossed about aimlessly for three days and nights, till at last they\nsaw land ahead and, lowering their sails, rowed safely into a quiet\nharbor. Not a human being was in sight, but herds of cattle grazed on\nthe pastures, and goats sported untended on the rocks. Here was even\nfood in plenty for hungry men. They killed oxen and goats, and made\nready a feast for themselves, and a sacrifice for the gods. The repast\nwas prepared, and AEneas and his comrades were about to enjoy it,\nwhen a sound of rustling wings was heard all round them. Horrible\ncreatures, half birds, half women, with long talons and cruel beaks,\nswooped down on the tables and carried off the food before the eyes\nof the terrified banqueters. These were the Harpies, who had once been\nsent to plague King Phineus, and when they were driven away by two of\nthe Argonauts, Zetes and Calais, took refuge in these islands. In vain\nthe Trojans attacked them with their swords, for the monsters would\nfly out of reach, and then dart back again on a sudden, and pounce\nonce more on the food, while Celaeno, chief of the Harpies, perched on\na rock and chanted in hoarse tones a prophecy of ill omen. \"You that\nkill our oxen and seek to drive us from our rightful home, hearken to\nmy words, which Jupiter declared to Apollo, and Apollo told even to\nme. You are sailing to Italy, and you shall reach Italy and enter its\nharbors. But you are not destined to surround your city with a wall,\ntill cruel hunger and vengeance for the wrong you have done us force\nyou to gnaw your very tables with your teeth.\"\n\nWhen the Trojans heard this terrible prophecy their hearts sank within\nthem, and Anchises, lifting his hands to heaven, besought the gods to\navert this grievous doom. Thus, full of sad forebodings, they returned\nto their ships.\n\nTheir way now lay along the western coast of Greece, and they were\nglad to slip unnoticed past the rocky island of Ithaca, the home of\nUlysses the wily. For they did not know that he was still held captive\nby the nymph Calypso, and that many years were to pass before he\nshould be restored to his kingdom. They next cast anchor off Leucadia,\nand passed the winter in these regions. In spring they sailed north\nagain, and landed in Epirus, and here to their surprise they found\nHelenus, one of the sons of Priam, ruling over a Greek people. He\nwelcomed his kinsman joyfully and, having the gift of prophecy from\nApollo, foretold the course of his wanderings. \"Italy, which you deem\nso near, is a far-distant land, and many adventures await you before\nyou reach that shore where lies your destined home. Before you reach\nit, you will visit Sicily, and the realms of the dead and the\nisland of Circe. But I will give you a sign whereby you may know the\nappointed place. When by the banks of a secluded stream you shall\nsee a huge white sow with her thirty young ones, then shall you have\nreached the limit of your wanderings. Be sure to avoid the eastern\ncoast of Italy opposite these shores. Wicked Greek tribes have their\ndwelling there, and it is safer to pass at once to the western coast.\nOn your left, you will hear in the Strait the thundering roar of\nCharybdis, and on the right grim Scylla sits scowling in her cave\nready to spring on the unwary traveler. Better take a long circuit\nround Sicily than come even within sight and sound of Scylla. As soon\nas you touch the western shores of Italy, go to the city of Cumae and\nthe Sibyl's cavern. Try to win her favor, and she will tell you of the\nnations of Italy and the wars yet to come, and how you may avoid each\nperil and accomplish every labor. One warning would I give you and\nenjoin it with all my power. If you desire to reach your journey's end\nin safety, forget not to do homage to Juno. Offer up prayers to her\ndivinity, load her altars with gifts. Then, and then only, may you\nhope for a happy issue from all your troubles!\"\n\nSo once more the Trojans set sail, and obedient to the warnings of\nHelenus they avoided the eastern coast of Italy, and struck southward\ntowards Sicily. Far up the channel they heard the roar of Charybdis\nand hastened their speed in fear. Soon the snowy cone of Etna came\ninto view with its column of smoke rising heavenward. As they lay at\nanchor hard by, a ragged, half-starved wretch ran out of the woods\ncalling loudly on AEneas for succor. This was one of the comrades of\nUlysses, who had been left behind by mistake, and lived in perpetual\ndread of the savage Cyclopes. AEneas was moved to pity, and though the\nman was a Greek and an enemy, he took him on board and gave him\nfood and succor. Before they left this place they had a glimpse of\nPolyphemus himself. The blind giant came down the cliff with his\nflock, feeling his way with a huge staff of pine-trunk. He even\nstepped into the sea, and walked far out without wetting his thighs.\nThe Trojans hastily slipped their cables, and made away. Polyphemus\nheard the sound of their oars, and called his brother Cyclopes to\ncome and seize the strangers, but they were too late to overtake the\nfugitives.\n\nAfter this they continued their southward course, passing the island\nwhere Syracuse now stands, and rounding the southern coast of Sicily.\nThen they sailed past the tall rock of Acragas and palm-loving\nSelinus, and so came to the western corner, where the harbor of\nDrepanun gave them shelter. Here a sorrow overtook AEneas, that neither\nthe harpy nor the seer had foretold. Anchises, weary with wandering\nand sick of long-deferred hope, fell ill and died. Sadly AEneas sailed\nfrom hence without his trusted friend and counselor, and steered his\ncourse for Italy.\n\nAt last the goal seemed at hand and the dangers of the narrow strait\nhad been escaped. But AEneas had a far more dangerous enemy than Scylla\nand Charybdis, for Juno's wrath was not yet appeased. He had offered\nprayer and sacrifice, as Helenus bade him, but her long-standing\ngrudge was not so easily forgotten. She hated Troy and the\nTrojans with an undying hatred, and would not suffer even these\nfew-storm-tossed wanderers to seek their new home in peace. She knew\ntoo that it was appointed by the Fates that a descendant of this\nfugitive Trojan should one day found a city destined to eclipse in\nwealth and glory her favorite city of Carthage. This she desired to\navert at all costs, and if even the queen of heaven was not strong\nenough to overrule fate, at least she resolved that the Trojans\nshould not enter into their inheritance without many and grievous\ntribulations.\n\nOff the northerncoast of Sicily lies a group of small islands, still\ncalled the AEolian Isles, after AEolus, king of the winds, whose palace\nstood upon the largest. Here he lived in a rock-bound castle, and kept\nthe boisterous winds fast bound in strong dungeons, that they might\nnot go forth unbidden to work havoc and destruction. But for his\nrestraining hand they would have burst forth and swept away land and\nsea in their fury. To this rocky fortress Juno came with a request\nto AEolus. \"Men of a race hateful to me are now crossing the sea. I\nbeseech you, therefore, send a storm to scatter the ships and drown\nthe men in the waves. As a reward I will give you one of my fairest\nnymphs in marriage.\" Thus she urged, and at her bidding AEolus struck\nthe rock and the prison gates were opened. The winds at once rushed\nforth in all directions. The clouds gathered and blotted out sky\nand daylight, thunder roared and lightning flashed, and the Trojans\nthought their last hour had come. Even AEneas lost heart, and envied\nthe lot of those who fell before Troy by the sword of Diomede. Soon\na violent gust struck his ship, the oars were broken, and the prow\nturned round and exposed the side to the waves. The water closed\nover it, then opened again, and drew down the vessel, leaving the men\nfloating on the water. Three ships were dashed against sunken rocks,\nthree were driven among the shallows and blocked with a mound of\nsand. Another was struck from stem to stern, then sucked down into a\nwhirlpool. One after another the rest succumbed, and it seemed as if\neach moment must see their utter destruction.\n\nMeantime Neptune in his palace at the bottom of the sea had noticed\nthe sudden disturbance of the waters, and now put out his head above\nthe waves to learn the cause of this commotion. When he saw the\nshattered Trojan ships he guessed that this was Juno's work. Instantly\nhe summoned the winds and chid them for daring to disturb the waters\nwithout his leave. \"Begone,\" he said, \"and tell your master AEolus that\nthe dominion of the sea is mine, not his. Let him be content to keep\nguard over you and see that you do not escape from your prison.\" While\nhe spoke Neptune was busy calming the waters, and it was not long\nbefore he put the clouds to flight and brought back the sunshine.\nNymphs came to push the ships off the rocks, and Neptune himself\nopened a way out of the shallows. Then he returned to his chariot, and\nhis white horses carried him lightly across the calm waters.\n\nThankful to have saved a few of his ships, all shattered and leaking\nas they were, AEneas bade the helmsman steer for the nearest land. What\nwas their joy to see within easy reach a quiet harbor closed in by\na sheltering island. The entrance was guarded by twin cliffs, and a\nforest background closed in the scene. Once within this shelter the\nweary vessels needed no anchor to secure them. Here at last AEneas\nand his comrades could stretch their aching limbs on dry land. They\nkindled a fire of leaves with a flint, and dried their sodden corn for\na scanty meal.\n\nAEneas now climbed one of the hills to see whether he might catch a\nglimpse of any of the missing ships. Not a sail was in sight, but in\nthe valley below he spied a herd of deer grazing. Here was better food\nfor hungry men. Drawing an arrow from his quiver, he fitted it to his\nbow, let fly, and a mighty stag fell to his aim. Six others shared\nits fate, then AEneas returned with his booty and bade his friends make\nmerry with venison and Sicilian wine from the ships. As they ate and\ndrank, he tried to hearten the Trojans. \"Endure a little longer,\" he\nurged. \"Think of the perils through which we have passed, remember the\ndreadful Cyclopes and cruel Scylla. Despair not now, for one day the\nmemory of past sufferings shall delight your hours of ease. Through\ntoils and hardships we are making our way to Latium, where the gods\nhave promised us a peaceful home and a new and glorious Troy. Hold out\na little while, and wait for the happy days in store.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW HORATIUS HELD THE BRIDGE\n\nADAPTED BY ALFRED J. CHURCH\n\n\nKing Tarquin[1] and his son Lucius (for he only remained to him of the\nthree) fled to Lars Porsenna, King of Clusium, and besought him that\nhe would help them. \"Suffer not,\" they said, \"that we, who are Tuscans\nby birth, should remain any more in poverty and exile. And take heed\nalso to thyself and thine own kingdom if thou permit this new fashion\nof driving forth kings to go unpunished. For surely there is that in\nfreedom which men greatly desire, and if they that be kings defend not\ntheir dignity as stoutly as others seek to overthrow it, then shall\nthe highest be made even as the lowest, and there shall be an end of\nkingship, than which there is nothing more honorable under heaven.\"\nWith these words they persuaded King Porsenna, who judging it well for\nthe Etrurians that there should be a king at Rome, and that king an\nEtrurian by birth, gathered together a great army and came up against\nRome. But when men heard of his coming, so mighty a city was Clusium\nin those days, and so great the fame of King Porsenna, there was such\nfear as had never been before. Nevertheless they were steadfastly\npurposed to hold out. And first all that were in the country fled into\nthe city, and round about the city they set guards to keep it, part\nthereof being defended by walls, and part, for so it seemed,\nbeing made safe by the river. But here a great peril had well-nigh\nover-taken the city; for there was a wooden bridge on the river by\nwhich the enemy had crossed but for the courage of a certain Horatius\nCocles. The matter fell out in this wise.\n\n[Footnote 1: King Tarquin had been driven from Rome because of his\ntyranny.]\n\nThere was a certain hill which men called Janiculum on the side of the\nriver, and this hill King Porsenna took by a sudden attack. Which when\nHoratius saw (for he chanced to have been set to guard the bridge, and\nsaw also how the enemy were running at full speed to the place, and\nhow the Romans were fleeing in confusion and threw away their arms\nas they ran), he cried with a loud voice, \"Men of Rome, it is to no\npurpose that ye thus leave your post and flee, for if ye leave this\nbridge behind you for men to pass over, ye shall soon find that ye\nhave more enemies in your city than in Janiculum. Do ye therefore\nbreak it down with axe and fire as best ye can. In the meanwhile I,\nso far as one man may do, will stay the enemy.\" And as he spake he ran\nforward to the farther end of the bridge and made ready to keep the\nway against the enemy. Nevertheless there stood two with him, Lartius\nand Herminius by name, men of noble birth both of them and of great\nrenown in arms. So these three for a while stayed the first onset of\nthe enemy; and the men of Rome meanwhile brake down the bridge. And\nwhen there was but a small part remaining, and they that brake it down\ncalled to the three that they should come back, Horatius bade Lartius\nand Herminius return, but he himself remained on the farther side,\nturning his eyes full of wrath in threatening fashion on the princes\nof the Etrurians, and crying, \"Dare ye now to fight with me? or why\nare ye thus come at the bidding of your master, King Porsenna, to rob\nothers of the freedom that ye care not to have for yourselves?\" For a\nwhile they delayed, looking each man to his neighbor, who should first\ndeal with this champion of the Romans. Then, for very shame, they all\nran forward, and raising a great shout, threw their javelins at him.\nThese all he took upon his shield, nor stood the less firmly in his\nplace on the bridge, from which when they would have thrust him by\nforce, of a sudden the men of Rome raised a great shout, for the\nbridge was now altogether broken down, and fell with a great crash\ninto the river. And as the enemy stayed a while for fear, Horatius\nturned him to the river and said, \"O Father Tiber, I beseech thee this\nday with all reverence that thou kindly receive this soldier and his\narms.\" And as he spake he leapt with all his arms into the river and\nswam across to his own people, and though many javelins of the enemy\nfell about him, he was not one whit hurt. Nor did such valor fail to\nreceive due honor from the city. For the citizens set up a statue of\nHoratius in the market-place; and they gave him of the public land so\nmuch as he could plow about in one day. Also there was this honor paid\nhim, that each citizen took somewhat of his own store and gave it to\nhim, for food was scarce in the city by reason of the siege.\n\n\n\n\nHOW CINCINNATUS SAVED ROME\n\nADAPTED BY ALFRED J. CHURCH\n\n\nIt came to pass that the AEquians brake the treaty of peace which they\nhad made with Rome, and, taking one Gacchus Cloelius for their leader,\nmarched into the land of Tusculum; and when they had plundered the\ncountry there-abouts, and had gathered together much booty, they\npitched their camp on Mount AEgidus. To them the Romans sent three\nambassadors, who should complain of the wrong done and seek redress.\nBut when they would have fulfilled their errand, Gracchus the AEquin\nspake, saying, \"If ye have any message from the Senate of Rome, tell\nit to this oak, for I have other business to do;\" for it chanced that\nthere was a great oak that stood hard by, and made a shadow over the\ngeneral's tent. Then one of the ambassadors, as he turned to depart,\nmade reply, \"Yes, let this sacred oak and all the gods that are in\nheaven hear how ye have wrongfully broken the treaty of peace; and let\nthem that hear help us also in the day of battle, when we shall avenge\non you the laws both of gods and of men that ye set at nought.\"\n\nWhen the ambassadors had returned to Rome the Senate commanded that\nthere should be levied two armies; and that Minucius the Consul should\nmarch with the one against the AEquians on Mount AEgidus, and that the\nother should hinder the enemy from their plundering. This levying the\ntribunes of the Commons sought to hinder; and perchance had done so,\nbut there also came well-nigh to the walls of the city a great host of\nthe Sabines plundering all the country. Thereupon the people willingly\noffered themselves and there were levied forthwith two great armies.\nNevertheless when the Consul Minucius had marched to Mount AEgidus, and\nhad pitched his camp not far from the AEquians, he did nought for fear\nof the enemy, but kept himself within his entrenchments. And when the\nenemy perceived that he was afraid, growing the bolder for his lack of\ncourage, they drew lines about him, keeping him in on every side. Yet\nbefore that he was altogether shut up there escaped from his camp five\nhorsemen, that bare tidings to Rome how that the Consul, together with\nhis army, was besieged. The people were sorely dismayed to hear such\ntidings; nor, when they cast about for help, saw they any man that\nmight be sufficient for such peril, save only Cincinnatus. By common\nconsent, therefore, he was made Dictator for six months, a thing that\nmay well be noted by those who hold that nothing is to be accounted of\nin comparison of riches, and that no man may win great honor or show\nforth singular virtue unless he be well furnished with wealth. For\nhere in this great peril of the Roman people there was no hope of\nsafety but in one who was cultivating with his own hand a little plot\nof scarcely three acres of ground. For when the messengers of the\npeople came to him they found him plowing, or, as some say, digging a\nditch. When they had greeted each other, the messengers said, \"May the\nGods prosper this thing to the Roman people and to thee. Put on thy\nrobe and hear the words of the people.\" Then said Cincinnatus, being\nnot a little astonished, \"Is all well?\" and at the same time he called\nto his wife Racilia that she should bring forth his robe from the\ncottage. So she brought it forth, and the man wiped from him the dust\nand the sweat, and clad himself in his robe, and stood before the\nmessengers. These said to him, \"The people of Rome make thee Dictator,\nand bid thee come forthwith to the city.\" And at the same time they\ntold how the Consul and his army were besieged by the AEquians. So\nCincinnatus departed to Rome; and when he came to the other side of\nthe Tiber there met him first his three sons, and next many of his\nkinsfolk and friends, and after them a numerous company of the nobles.\nThese all conducted him to his house, the lictors, four and twenty\nin number, marching before him. There was also assembled a very great\nconcourse of the people, fearing much how the Dictator might deal with\nthem, for they knew what manner of man he was, and that there was no\nlimit to his power, nor any appeal from him.\n\nThe next day, before dawn, the Dictator came into the market-place,\nand appointed one Lucius Tarquinius to be Master of the Horse. This\nTarquinius was held by common consent to excel all other men in\nexercises of war; only, though, being a noble by birth, he should have\nbeen among the horsemen, he had served for lack of means, as a foot\nsoldier. This done he called an assembly of the people and commanded\nthat all the shops in the city should be shut; that no man should\nconcern himself with any private business, but all that were of an age\nto go to the war should be present before sunset in the Field of Mars,\neach man having with him provisions of cooked food for five days, and\ntwelve stakes. As for them that were past the age, they should prepare\nthe food while the young men made ready their arms and sought for\nthe stakes. These last they took as they found them, no man hindering\nthem; and when the time appointed by the Dictator was come, all were\nassembled, ready, as occasion might serve, either to march or to give\nbattle. Forthwith they set out, the Dictator leading the foot soldiers\nby their legions, and Tarquinius the horsemen, and each bidding them\nthat followed make all haste. \"We must needs come,\" they said, \"to our\njourney's end while it is yet night. Remember that the Consul and his\narmy have been besieged now for three days, and that no man knows what\na day or a night may bring forth.\" The soldiers themselves also were\nzealous to obey, crying out to the standard-bearers that they should\nquicken their steps, and to their fellows that they should not lag\nbehind. Thus they came at midnight to Mount AEdigus, and when they\nperceived that the enemy was at hand they halted the standards. Then\nthe Dictator rode forward to see, so far as the darkness would suffer\nhim, how great was the camp of the AEquians and after what fashion\nit was pitched. This done he commanded that the baggage should be\ngathered together into a heap, and that the soldiers should stand\nevery man in his own place. After this he compassed about the whole\narmy of the enemy with his own army, and commanded that at a set\nsignal every man should shout, and when they had shouted should dig a\ntrench and set up therein the stakes. This the soldiers did, and the\nnoise of the shouting passed over the camp of the enemy and came into\nthe city, causing therein great joy, even as it caused great fear\nin the camp. For the Romans cried, \"These be our countrymen and they\nbring us help.\" Then said the Consul, \"We must make no delay. By that\nshout is signified, not that they are come only, but that they are\nalready dealing with the enemy. Doubtless the camp of the AEquians is\neven now assailed from without. Take ye your arms and follow me.\" So\nthe legion went forth, it being yet night, to the battle, and as they\nwent they shouted, that the Dictator might be aware. Now the AEquians\nhad set themselves to hinder the making of a ditch and rampart which\nshould shut them in; but when the Romans from the camp fell upon them,\nfearing lest these should make their way through the midst of their\ncamp, they left them that were with Cincinnatus to finish their\nentrenching, and fought with the Consul. And when it was now light,\nlo! they were already shut in, and the Romans, having finished their\nentrenching, began to trouble them. And when the AEquians perceived\nthat the battle was now on either side of them, they could withstand\nno longer, but sent ambassadors praying for peace, and saying, \"Ye\nhave prevailed; slay us not, but rather permit us to depart, leaving\nour arms behind us.\" Then said the Dictator, \"I care not to have the\nblood of the AEquians. Ye may depart, but ye shall depart passing under\nthe yoke, that ye may thus acknowledge to all men that ye are indeed\nvanquished.\" Now the yoke is thus made. There are set up in the ground\ntwo spears, and over them is bound by ropes a third spear. So the\nAEquians passed under the yoke.\n\nIn the camp of the enemy there was found abundance of spoil. This the\nDictator gave wholly to his own soldiers. \"Ye were well-nigh a spoil\nto the enemy,\" said he to the army of the Consul, \"therefore ye shall\nhave no share in the spoiling of them. As for thee, Minucius, be\nthou a lieutenant only till thou hast learnt how to bear thyself as a\nconsul.\" Meanwhile at Rome there was held a meeting of the Senate,\nat which it was commanded that Cincinnatus should enter the city in\ntriumph, his soldiers following him in order of march. Before his\nchariot there were led the generals of the enemy; also the standards\nwere carried in the front; and after these came the army, every man\nladen with spoil. That day there was great rejoicing in the city,\nevery man setting forth a banquet before his doors in the street.\n\nAfter this, Virginius, that had borne false witness against Caeso, was\nfound guilty of perjury, and went into exile. And when Cincinnatus\nsaw that justice had been done to this evildoer, he resigned his\ndictatorship, having held it for sixteen days only.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHEROES OF GREAT BRITAIN\n\n\n\n\nBEOWULF\n\nADAPTED BY H.E. MARSHALL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nHOW BEOWULF OVERCAME THE OGRE AND THE WATER-WITCH\n\n\nLong ago, there lived in Daneland a King, beloved of all, called\nHrothgar. He was valiant and mighty in war, overcoming all his foes\nand taking from them much spoil. Looking upon his great treasure, King\nHrothgar said, \"I will build me a great hall. It shall be vast and\nwide, adorned within and without with gold and ivory, with gems and\ncarved work. It shall be a hall of joy and feasting.\"\n\nThen King Hrothgar called his workmen and gave them commandment to\nbuild the hall. They set to work, and becoming each day more fair, the\nhall was at length finished. It stood upon a height, vast and stately,\nand as it was adorned with the horns of deer, King Hrothgar named it\nHart Hall. The King made a great feast. To it his warriors young and\nold were called, and he divided his treasure, giving to each rings\nof gold. And so in the hall there was laughter and song and great\nmerriment. Every evening when the shadows fell, and the land grew dark\nwithout, the knights and warriors gathered in the hall to feast. And\nwhen the feast was over, and the great fire roared upon the hearth,\nthe minstrel took his harp and sang. Far over dreary fen and moorland\nthe light glowed cheerfully, and the sound of song and harp awoke the\ndeep silence of the night. Within the hall was light and gladness, but\nwithout there was wrath and hate. For far on the moor there lived\na wicked giant named Grendel, prowling at night to see what evil he\nmight do.\n\nVery terrible was this ogre Grendel to look upon. Thick black hair\nhung about his face, and his teeth were long and sharp, like the tusks\nof an animal. His huge body and great hairy arms had the strength of\nten men. He wore no armor, for his skin was tougher than any coat\nof mail that man or giant might weld. His nails were like steel and\nsharper than daggers, and by his side there hung a great pouch in\nwhich he carried off those whom he was ready to devour. Day by day the\nmusic of harp and song was a torture to him and made him more and more\nmad with jealous hate.\n\nAt length he crept through the darkness to Hart Hall where the\nwarriors slept after feast and song. Arms and armor had been thrown\naside, so with ease the ogre slew thirty of the bravest. Howling with\nwicked joy he carried them off and devoured them. The next night,\nagain the wicked one crept stealthily through the darkening moorland\nuntil he reached Hart Hall, stretched forth his hand, and seized the\nbravest of the warriors. In the morning each man swore that he would\nnot again sleep beneath the roof of the hall. For twelve years it\nstood thus, no man daring, except in the light of day, to enter it.\n\nAnd now it came to pass that across the sea in far Gothland the tale\nof Grendel and his wrath was carried to Beowulf the Goth, who said he\nwould go to King Hrothgar to help him. Taking with him fifteen good\ncomrades, he set sail for Daneland.\n\nWhen Hrothgar was told that Beowulf had come to help him, he said,\n\"I knew him when he was yet a lad. His father and his mother have I\nknown. Truly he hath sought a friend. I have heard that he is much\nrenowned in war, and hath the strength of thirty men in the grip of\nhis hand. I pray Heaven he hath been sent to free us from the horror\nof Grendel. Bid Beowulf and his warriors to enter.\"\n\nGuided by the Danish knight, Beowulf and his men went into Hart Hall\nand stood before the aged Hrothgar. After friendly words of greeting\nBeowulf said, \"And now will I fight against Grendel, bearing neither\nsword nor shield. With my hands alone will I grapple with the fiend,\nand foe to foe we will fight for victory.\"\n\nThat night Beowulf's comrades slept in Hart Hall. Beowulf alone\nremained awake. Out of the mists of the moorland the Evil Thing\nstrode. Loud he laughed as he gazed upon the sleeping warriors.\nBeowulf, watchful and angry, curbed his wrath. Grendel seized one of\nthe men, drank his blood, crushed his bones, and swallowed his horrid\nfeast. Then Beowulf caught the monster and fought till the noise of\nthe contest was as of thunder. The knights awoke and tried to plunge\ntheir swords into the hide of Grendel, but in vain. By enchantments he\nhad made himself safe. At length the fight came to an end. The sinews\nin Grendel's shoulder burst, the bones cracked. The ogre tore himself\nfree, leaving his arm in Beowulf's mighty grip.\n\nSobbing forth his death-song, Grendel fled till he reached his\ndwelling in the lake of the water-dragons, and there plunged in. The\ndark waves closed over him and he sank to his home. Loud were the\nsongs of triumph in Hart Hall, great the rejoicing, for Beowulf had\nmade good his boast. He had cleansed the hall of the ogre. A splendid\nfeast was made and much treasure given to Beowulf by the King and\nQueen.\n\nAgain did the Dane lords sleep in the great hall, but far away in the\nwater-dragons' lake the mother of Grendel wept over the dead body\nof her son, desiring revenge. Very terrible to look upon was this\nwater-witch. As the darkness fell she crept across the moorland to\nHart Hall. In she rushed eager for slaughter. A wild cry rang through\nthe hall. The water-witch fled, but in doing so carried off the best\nbeloved of all the King's warriors.\n\nQuickly was Beowulf called and he rode forth to the dark lake. Down\nand down he dived till he came to the cave of the water-witch whom he\nkilled after a desperate struggle. Hard by on a couch lay the body of\nGrendel. Drawing his sword he smote off the ogre's head. Swimming up\nwith it he reached the surface and sprang to land, and was greeted by\nhis faithful thanes. Four of them were needed to carry the huge head\nback to Hart Hall.\n\nHis task being done Beowulf made haste to return to his own land that\nhe might seek his own King, Hygelac, and lay before him the treasures\nthat Hrothgar had given him. With gracious words the old King thanked\nthe young warrior, and bade him to come again right speedily. Hygelac\nlistened with wonder and delight to all that had happened in Daneland\nand graciously received the splendid gifts.\n\nFor many years Beowulf lived beloved of all, and when it befell that\nHygelac died in battle, the broad realm of Gothland was given unto\nBeowulf to rule. And there for fifty years he reigned a well-loved\nKing.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHOW THE FIRE DRAGON WARRED WITH THE GOTH FOLK\n\n\nAnd now when many years had come and gone and the realm had long time\nbeen at peace, sorrow came upon the people of the Goths. And thus it\nwas that the evil came.\n\nIt fell upon a time that a slave by his misdeeds roused his master's\nwrath, and when his lord would have punished him he fled in terror.\nAnd as he fled trembling to hide himself, he came by chance into a\ngreat cave.\n\nThere the slave hid, thankful for refuge. But soon he had cause to\ntremble in worse fear than before, for in the darkness of the cave\nhe saw that a fearful dragon lay asleep. Then as the slave gazed\nin terror at the awful beast, he saw that it lay guarding a mighty\ntreasure.\n\nNever had he seen such a mass of wealth. Swords and armor inlaid with\ngold, cups and vessels of gold and silver set with precious stones,\nrings and bracelets lay piled around in glittering heaps.\n\nFor hundreds of years this treasure had lain there in secret. A great\nprince had buried it in sorrow for his dead warriors. In his land\nthere had been much fighting until he alone of all his people was\nleft. Then in bitter grief he gathered all his treasure and hid it in\nthis cave.\n\n\"Take, O earth,\" he cried, \"what the heroes might not keep. Lo! good\nmen and true once before earned it from thee. Now a warlike death hath\ntaken away every man of my people. There is none now to bear the sword\nor receive the cup. There is no more joy in the battle-field or in the\nhall of peace. So here shall the gold-adorned helmet molder, here the\ncoat of mail rust and the wine-cup lie empty.\"\n\nThus the sad prince mourned. Beside his treasure he sat weeping both\nday and night until death took him also, and of all his people there\nwas none left.\n\nSo the treasure lay hidden and secret for many a day.\n\nThen upon a time it happened that a great dragon, fiery-eyed and\nfearful, as it flew by night and prowled seeking mischief, came upon\nthe buried hoard.\n\nAs men well know, a dragon ever loveth gold. So to guard his new-found\nwealth lest any should come to rob him of it, he laid him down there\nand the cave became his dwelling. Thus for three hundred years he lay\ngloating over his treasure, no man disturbing him.\n\nBut now at length it chanced that the fleeing slave lighted upon the\nhoard. His eyes were dazzled by the shining heap. Upon it lay a cup of\ngold, wondrously chased and adorned.\n\n\"If I can but gain that cup,\" said the slave to himself, \"I will\nreturn with it to my master, and for the sake of the gold he will\nsurely forgive me.\"\n\nSo while the dragon slept, trembling and fearful the slave crept\nnearer and nearer to the glittering mass. When he came quite near he\nreached forth his hand and seized the cup. Then with it he fled back\nto his master.\n\nIt befell then as the slave had foreseen. For the sake of the wondrous\ncup his misdeeds were forgiven him.\n\nBut when the dragon awoke his fury was great. Well knew he that mortal\nman had trod his cave and stolen of his hoard.\n\nRound and round about he sniffed and searched until he discovered the\nfootprints of his foe. Eagerly then all over the ground he sought\nto find the man who, while he slept, had done him this ill. Hot\nand fierce of mood he went backwards and forwards round about his\ntreasure-heaps. All within the cave he searched in vain. Then coming\nforth he searched without. All round the hill in which his cave was\nhe prowled, but no man could he find, nor in all the wilds around was\nthere any man.\n\nAgain the old dragon returned, again he searched among his\ntreasure-heap for the precious cup. Nowhere was it to be found. It was\ntoo surely gone.\n\nBut the dragon, as well as loving gold, loved war. So now in angry\nmood he lay couched in his lair. Scarce could he wait until darkness\nfell, such was his wrath. With fire he was resolved to repay the loss\nof his dear drinking-cup.\n\nAt last, to the joy of the great winged beast, the sun sank. Then\nforth from his cave he came, flaming fire.\n\nSpreading his mighty wings, he flew through the air until he came to\nthe houses of men. Then spitting forth flame, he set fire to many a\nhappy homestead. Wherever the lightning of his tongue struck, there\nfire flamed forth, until where the fair homes of men had been there\nwas naught but blackened ruins. Here and there, this way and that,\nthrough all the land he sped, and wherever he passed fire flamed\naloft.\n\nThe warfare of the dragon was seen from far. The malice of the worm\nwas known from north to south, from east to west. All men knew how the\nfearful foe hated and ruined the Goth folk.\n\nThen having worked mischief and desolation all night through, the\nfire-dragon turned back; to his secret cave he slunk again ere break\nof day. Behind him he left the land wasted and desolate.\n\nThe dragon had no fear of the revenge of man. In his fiery warfare he\ntrusted to find shelter in his hill, and in his secret cave. But in\nthat trust he was misled.\n\nSpeedily to King Beowulf were the tidings of the dragon and his\nspoiling carried. For alas! even his own fair palace was wrapped in\nflame. Before his eyes he saw the fiery tongues lick up his treasures.\nEven the Gift-seat of the Goths melted in fire.\n\nThen was the good King sorrowful. His heart boiled within him with\nangry thoughts. The fire-dragon had utterly destroyed the pleasant\nhomes of his people. For this the war-prince greatly desired to punish\nhim.\n\nTherefore did Beowulf command that a great shield should be made for\nhim, all of iron. He knew well that a shield of wood could not help\nhim in this need. Wood against fire! Nay, that were useless. His\nshield must be all of iron.\n\nToo proud, too, was Beowulf, the hero of old time, to seek the winged\nbeast with a troop of soldiers. Not thus would he overcome him. He\nfeared not for himself, nor did he dread the dragon's war-craft. For\nwith his valor and his skill Beowulf had succeeded many a time. He had\nbeen victorious in many a tumult of battle since that day when a young\nman and a warrior prosperous in victory, he had cleansed Hart Hall by\ngrappling with Grendel and his kin.\n\nAnd now when the great iron shield was ready, he chose eleven of his\nbest thanes and set out to seek the dragon. Very wrathful was the old\nKing, very desirous that death should take his fiery foe. He hoped,\ntoo, to win the great treasure of gold which the fell beast guarded.\nFor already Beowulf had learned whence the feud arose, whence came the\nanger which had been so hurtful to his people. And the precious cup,\nthe cause of all the quarrel, had been brought to him.\n\nWith the band of warriors went the slave who had stolen the cup. He\nit was who must be their guide to the cave, for he alone of all\nmen living knew the way thither. Loth he was to be their guide. But\ncaptive and bound he was forced to lead the way over the plain to the\ndragon's hill.\n\nUnwillingly he went with lagging footsteps until at length he came\nto the cave hard by the seashore. There by the sounding waves lay the\nsavage guardian of the treasure. Ready for war and fierce was he. It\nwas no easy battle that was there prepared for any man, brave though\nhe might be.\n\nAnd now on the rocky point above the sea King Beowulf sat himself\ndown. Here he would bid farewell to all his thanes ere he began the\ncombat. For what man might tell which from that fight should come\nforth victorious?\n\nBeowulf's mind was sad. He was now old. His hair was white, his face\nwas wrinkled and gray. But still his arm was strong as that of a young\nman. Yet something within him warned him that death was not far off.\n\nSo upon the rocky point he sat and bade farewell to his dear comrades.\n\n\"In my youth,\" said the aged King, \"many battles have I dared, and\nyet must I, the guardian of my people, though I be full of years, seek\nstill another feud. And again will I win glory if the wicked spoiler\nof my land will but come forth from his lair.\"\n\nMuch he spoke. With loving words he bade farewell to each one of his\nmen, greeting his dear comrades for the last time.\n\n\"I would not bear a sword or weapon against the winged beast,\" he said\nat length, \"if I knew how else I might grapple with the wretch, as of\nold I did with Grendel. But I ween this war-fire is hot, fierce, and\npoisonous. Therefore I have clad me in a coat of mail, and bear this\nshield all of iron. I will not flee a single step from the guardian of\nthe treasure. But to us upon this rampart it shall be as fate will.\n\n\"Now let me make no more vaunting speech. Ready to fight am I. Let me\nforth against the winged beast. Await ye here on the mount, clad in\nyour coats of mail, your arms ready. Abide ye here until ye see which\nof us twain in safety cometh forth from the clash of battle.\n\n\"It is no enterprise for you, or for any common man. It is mine alone.\nAlone I needs must go against the wretch and prove myself a warrior.\nI must with courage win the gold, or else deadly, baleful war shall\nfiercely snatch me, your lord, from life.\"\n\nThen Beowulf arose. He was all clad in shining armor, his gold-decked\nhelmet was upon his head, and taking his shield in hand he strode\nunder the stony cliffs towards the cavern's mouth. In the strength of\nhis single arm he trusted against the fiery dragon.\n\nNo enterprise this for a coward.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW BEOWULF OVERCAME THE DRAGON\n\n\nBeowulf left his comrades upon the rocky point jutting out into the\nsea, and alone he strode onward until he spied a great stone arch.\nFrom beneath the arch, from out the hillside, flowed a stream seething\nwith fierce, hot fire. In this way the dragon guarded his lair, for it\nwas impossible to pass such a barrier unhurt.\n\nSo upon the edge of this burning river Beowulf stood and called aloud\nin anger. Stout of heart and wroth against the winged beast was he.\n\nThe King's voice echoed like a war-cry through the cavern. The dragon\nheard it and was aroused to fresh hate of man. For the guardian of the\ntreasure-hoard knew well the sound of mortal voice. Now was there no\nlong pause ere battle raged.\n\nFirst from out the cavern flamed forth the breath of the winged\nbeast. Hot sweat of battle rose from out the rock. The earth shook and\ngrowling thunder trembled through the air.\n\nThe dragon, ringed around with many-colored scales, was now hot for\nbattle, and, as the hideous beast crept forth, Beowulf raised his\nmighty shield and rushed against him.\n\nAlready the King had drawn his sword. It was an ancient heirloom, keen\nof edge and bright. Many a time it had been dyed in blood; many a time\nit had won glory and victory.\n\nBut ere they closed, the mighty foes paused. Each knew the hate and\ndeadly power of the other.\n\nThe mighty Prince, firm and watchful, stood guarded by his shield. The\ndragon, crouching as in ambush, awaited him.\n\nThen suddenly like a flaming arch the dragon bent and towered, and\ndashed upon the Lord of the Goths. Up swung the arm of the hero, and\ndealt a mighty blow to the grisly, many-colored beast. But the famous\nsword was all too weak against such a foe. The edge turned and bit\nless strongly than its great king had need, for he was sore pressed.\nHis shield, too, proved no strong shelter from the wrathful dragon.\n\nThe warlike blow made greater still the anger of the fiery foe. Now he\nbelched forth flaming fire. All around fierce lightnings darted.\n\nBeowulf no longer hoped for glorious victory. His sword had failed\nhim. The edge was turned and blunted upon the scaly foe. He had never\nthought the famous steel would so ill serve him. Yet he fought on\nready to lose his life in such good contest.\n\nAgain the battle paused, again the King and dragon closed in fight.\n\nThe dragon-guardian of the treasure had renewed his courage. His heart\nheaved and boiled with fire, and fresh strength breathed from him.\nBeowulf was wrapped in flame. Dire was his need.\n\nYet of all his comrades none came near to help. Nay, as they watched\nthe conflict they were filled with base fear, and fled to the wood\nhard by for refuge.\n\nOnly one among them sorrowed for his master, and as he watched his\nheart was wrung with grief.\n\nWiglaf was this knight called, and he was Beowulf's kinsman. Now when\nhe saw his liege lord hard pressed in battle he remembered all the\nfavors Beowulf had heaped upon him. He remembered all the honors\nand the wealth which he owed to his King. Then could he no longer be\nstill. Shield and spear he seized, but ere he sped to aid his King he\nturned to his comrades.\n\n\"When our lord and King gave us swords and armor,\" he cried, \"did we\nnot promise to follow him in battle whenever he had need? When he of\nhis own will chose us for this expedition he reminded us of our fame.\nHe said he knew us to be good warriors, bold helmet-wearers. And\nalthough indeed our liege lord thought to do this work of valor alone,\nwithout us, because more than any man he hath done glorious and rash\ndeeds, lo! now is the day come that hath need of strength and of good\nwarriors. Come, let us go to him. Let us help our chieftain although\nthe grim terror of fire be hot.\n\n\"Heaven knoweth I would rather the flame would blast my body than his\nwho gave me gold. It seemeth not fitting to me that we should bear\nback our shields to our homes unless we may first fell the foe and\ndefend the life of our King. Nay, it is not of the old custom of the\nGoths that the King alone should suffer, that he alone should sink in\nbattle. Our lord should be repaid for his gifts to us, and so he shall\nbe by me even if death take us twain.\"\n\nBut none would hearken to Wiglaf. So alone he sped through the deadly\nsmoke and flame, till to his master's side he came offering aid.\n\n\"My lord Beowulf,\" he cried, \"fight on as thou didst in thy\nyouth-time. Erstwhile didst thou say that thou wouldst not let thy\ngreatness sink so long as life lasteth. Defend thou thy life with all\nmight. I will support thee to the utmost.\"\n\nWhen the dragon heard these words his fury was doubled. The fell\nwicked beast came on again belching forth fire, such was his hatred of\nmen. The flame-waves caught Wiglaf's shield, for it was but of wood.\nIt was burned utterly, so that only the stud of steel remained. His\ncoat of mail alone was not enough to guard the young warrior from\nthe fiery enemy. But right valiantly he went on fighting beneath the\nshelter of Beowulf's shield now that his own was consumed to ashes by\nthe flames.\n\nThen again the warlike King called to mind his ancient glories, again\nhe struck with main strength with his good sword upon the monstrous\nhead. Hate sped the blow.\n\nBut alas! as it descended the famous sword Naegling snapped asunder.\nBeowulf's sword had failed him in the conflict, although it was an old\nand well-wrought blade. To him it was not granted that weapons should\nhelp him in battle. The hand that swung the sword was too strong. His\nmight overtaxed every blade however wondrously the smith had welded\nit.\n\nAnd now a third time the fell fire-dragon was roused to wrath. He\nrushed upon the King. Hot, and fiercely grim the great beast seized\nBeowulf's neck in his horrid teeth. The hero's life-blood gushed\nforth, the crimson stream darkly dyed his bright armor.\n\nThen in the great King's need his warrior showed skill and courage.\nHeeding not the flames from the awful mouth, Wiglaf struck the dragon\nbelow the neck. His hand was burned with the fire, but his sword dived\ndeep into the monster's body and from that moment the flames began to\nabate.\n\nThe horrid teeth relaxed their hold, and Beowulf, quickly recovering\nhimself, drew his deadly knife. Battle-sharp and keen it was, and with\nit the hero gashed the dragon right in the middle.\n\nThe foe was conquered. Glowing in death he fell. They twain had\ndestroyed the winged beast. Such should a warrior be, such a thane in\nneed.\n\nTo the King it was a victorious moment. It was the crown of all his\ndeeds.\n\nThen began the wound which the fire-dragon had wrought him to burn and\nto swell. Beowulf soon found that baleful poison boiled in his heart.\nWell knew he that the end was nigh. Lost in deep thought he sat upon\nthe mound and gazed wondering at the cave. Pillared and arched with\nstone-work it was within, wrought by giants and dwarfs of old time.\n\nAnd to him came Wiglaf his dear warrior and tenderly bathed his wound\nwith water.\n\nThen spake Beowulf, in spite of his deadly wound he spake, and all his\nwords were of the ending of his life, for he knew that his days of joy\nupon this earth were past.\n\n\"Had a son been granted to me, to him I should have left my\nwar-garments. Fifty years have I ruled this people, and there has been\nno king of all the nations round who durst meet me in battle. I have\nknown joys and sorrows, but no man have I betrayed, nor many false\noaths have I sworn. For all this may I rejoice, though I be now sick\nwith mortal wounds. The Ruler of Men may not upbraid me with treachery\nor murder of kinsmen when my soul shall depart from its body.\n\n\"But now, dear Wiglaf, go thou quickly to the hoard of gold which\nlieth under the hoary rock. The dragon lieth dead; now sleepeth he\nfor ever, sorely wounded and bereft of his treasure. Then haste thee,\nWiglaf, for I would see the ancient wealth, the gold treasure, the\njewels, the curious gems. Haste thee to bring it hither; then after\nthat I have seen it, I shall the more contentedly give up my life and\nthe kingship that I so long have held.\"\n\nQuickly Wiglaf obeyed his wounded lord. Into the dark cave he\ndescended, and there outspread before him was a wondrous sight.\nTreasure of jewels, many glittering and golden, lay upon the ground.\nWondrous vessels of old time with broken ornaments were scattered\nround. Here, too, lay old and rusty helmets, mingled with bracelets\nand collars cunningly wrought.\n\nUpon the walls hung golden flags. From one a light shone forth by\nwhich the whole cavern was made clear. And all within was silent. No\nsign was there of any guardian, for without lay the dragon, sleeping\ndeath's sleep.\n\nQuickly Wiglaf gathered of the treasures all that he could carry.\nDishes and cups he took, a golden ensign and a sword curiously\nwrought. In haste he returned, for he knew not if he should find his\nlord in life where he had left him.\n\nAnd when Wiglaf came again to where Beowulf sat he poured the treasure\nat his feet. But he found his lord in a deep swoon. Again the brave\nwarrior bathed Beowulf's wound and laved the stricken countenance of\nhis lord, until once more he came to himself.\n\nThen spake the King: \"For this treasure I give thanks to the Lord of\nAll. Not in vain have I given my life, for it shall be of great good\nto my people in need. And now leave me, for on this earth longer I may\nnot stay. Say to my warriors that they shall raise a mound upon the\nrocky point which jutteth seaward. High shall it stand as a memorial\nto my people. Let it soar upward so that they who steer their slender\nbarks over the tossing waves shall call it Beowulf's mound.\"\n\nThe King then took from his neck the golden collar. To Wiglaf, his\nyoung thane and kinsman, he gave it. He gave also his helmet adorned\nwith gold, his ring and coat of mail, and bade the warrior use them\nwell.\n\n\"Thou art the last of our race,\" he said. \"Fate hath swept away all my\nkinsmen, all the mighty earls. Now I too must follow them.\"\n\nThat was the last word of the aged King. From his bosom the soul fled\nto seek the dwellings of the just. At Wiglaf's feet he lay quiet and\nstill.\n\n\n\n\nHOW KING ARTHUR CONQUERED ROME\n\nADAPTED BY E. EDWARDSON\n\n\nKing Arthur had just brought a great war to an end, and in honor of\nhis victory he was holding a royal feast with the kings and princes\nthat were his vassals and all the knights of the Round Table, when\ntwelve grave and ancient men entered the banquet-hall where he sat\nat table. They bore each an olive-branch in his hand, to signify that\nthey were ambassadors from Lucius the Emperor of Rome, and after they\nhad reverently made obeisance to King Arthur, they delivered their\nmessage as follows:\n\n\"The high and mighty Emperor Lucius sends you greeting, O King of\nBritain, and he commands you to acknowledge him as your lord, and\nto pay the tribute which is due from this realm, and which, it is\nrecorded, was paid by your father and others who came before him.\nYet you rebelliously withhold it and keep it back, in defiance of\nthe statutes and decrees made by the first Emperor of Rome, the noble\nJulius Caesar, who conquered this country. And be assured that if you\ndisobey this command, the Emperor Lucius will come in his might and\nmake war against you and your kingdom, and will inflict upon you a\nchastisement that shall serve for ever as a warning to all kings and\nprinces not to withhold the tribute due to that noble empire to which\nbelongs dominion over the whole world.\"\n\nThus they spoke, and King Arthur having heard their request, bade\nthem withdraw, saying that he would take the advice of his counselors\nbefore giving them his answer; but some of the younger knights that\nwere in the hall declared that it was a disgrace to all who were\nat the feast that such language should be used to the King in their\nhearing, and they would fain have fallen upon the ambassadors and\nslain them. But King Arthur, hearing their murmurs, declared that any\ninsult or wrong suffered by the ambassadors should be punished with\ndeath. Then he sent them to their quarters, escorted by one of his\nknights, who was ordered to provide them with whatever they wanted.\n\n\"Let nothing be grudged these men of Rome,\" said the King \"though the\ndemand they make is an affront alike to me and to you who are of my\ncourt. I should be dishonored were the ambassadors not treated with\nthe respect due to them, seeing that they are great lords in their own\nland.\"\n\nAs soon as the ambassadors had left the hall, King Arthur asked his\nknights and lords what was their advice and counsel in the matter. The\nfirst to give his opinion was Sir Cador of Cornwall.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Cador, \"the message brought by these lords is most\nwelcome to me. We have spent full many days at rest and in idleness,\nand now my hope is that you will wage war against the Romans. In that\nwar we shall, I have little doubt, win great honor.\"\n\n\"I am sure,\" answered King Arthur, \"that this affair is welcome to\nyou, but I seek, above all, your aid in devising a grave and suitable\nanswer to the demand they have made. And let no man doubt that I hold\nthat demand to be a grievous insult. The tribute they claim, in my\nopinion, not only is not due, but cannot be due; for more than one\nBritish knight having been Emperor of Rome, it is, I hold, the duty of\nRome to acknowledge the lordship of Britain, rather than of Britain to\nacknowledge that of Rome. What think ye?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" replied King Anguish of Scotland, \"you ought of right to be\nlord over all other kings, for throughout Christendom there is neither\nknight nor man of high estate worthy to be compared with you. My\nadvice is, never yield to the Romans. When they reigned over us, they\noppressed our principal men, and laid heavy and extortionate burdens\nupon the land. For that cause I, standing here, solemnly vow vengeance\nupon them for the evil they then did, and, to support you in your\nquarrel, I will at my own cost furnish twenty thousand good fighting\nmen. This force I will command in person, and I will bring it to your\naid whenever you choose to summon me.\"\n\nIn like manner, the King of Little Britain, as Brittany was called\nin those days, undertook to furnish thirty thousand men; and all the\nothers who were present agreed to fight on King Arthur's side, and to\nassist him to the utmost of their power. So he, having thanked\nthem heartily for the courage and good will towards him that they\ndisplayed, had the ambassadors summoned back into the banquet-hall and\naddressed them thus:\n\n\"I would have you go back to him who sent you, and I would have you\nsay to him that I will pay no heed to any orders or demands that may\nbe brought from him; and as for tribute so far am I from allowing\nthat there is any tribute due from me or to any other man or prince\nupon earth, be he heathen or Christian, that I claim lordship over\nthe empire he now has. And say further to him, that I have determined\nand resolved to go to Rome with my army, to take possession of the\nempire and to subdue all that behave themselves rebelliously.\nTherefore, let your master and all the other men of Rome get\nthemselves ready to do homage to me, and to acknowledge me as their\nemperor and governor, and let them know that if they refuse, they\nwill be punished befittingly.\"\n\nThen King Arthur bade his treasurer give handsome gifts to the\nambassadors, and repay in full the cost of their journey, and he\nassigned Sir Cador as their escort to see them safely out of the\ncountry. So they took their leave, and going to Sandwich, sailed\nthence, and passed through Flanders and Germany over the Alps into\nItaly to the court of the Emperor.\n\nWhen the Emperor heard what message King Arthur had entrusted to\nthem, and understood that this was indeed the reply to his demand for\ntribute, he was grievously angry.\n\n\"Of truth,\" he said, \"I never doubted that King Arthur would obey my\ncommands and submit, as it befits him and all other kings to submit\nthemselves to me.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" answered one of the ambassadors, \"I beseech you not to speak\nthus boastfully. In very truth my companions and myself were dismayed\nwhen we saw King Arthur face to face, and my fear is that you have\nmade a rod for your own back, for his intention is to become lord over\nthis empire. His threats, I warn you, are no idle talk. He is a very\ndifferent man from what you hoped he was, and his court is the most\nnoble upon earth. Never had any one of us beheld such magnificence\nas we beheld there on New Year's Day, when nine kings, besides other\nprinces, lords, and knights, sat at table with King Arthur. Nor do\nI believe that there could be found anywhere another band of knights\nworthy to be matched with the knights who sit at his Round Table, nor\na more manly man than the King himself. And since I verily believe\nhis ambition is such that he would not be satisfied though he had\nconquered the whole world, my advice is that you have careful watch\nkept upon the borders of your lands and upon the ways over the\nmountains, for I am certain that you would do wisely to guard yourself\nwell against him.\"\n\n\"Well,\" answered Lucius, \"my intention is before Easter to cross the\nAlps and to descend into France and seize the lands that belong to\nhim there. With me I shall take my mighty warriors from Tuscany and\nLombardy, and all the subjects and allies I have shall be summoned to\nmy aid.\"\n\nThen the Emperor picked out wise old knights and sent them east and\nwest throughout Asia, Africa, and Europe, to summon his allies from\nTurkey, Syria, Portugal, and the other distant lands that were subject\nto him; and in the meantime he assembled his forces from Rome,\nand from the countries between Rome and Flanders, and he collected\ntogether as his bodyguard fifty giants who were sons of evil spirits.\nPutting himself at the head of this mighty host, Lucius departed from\nRome, and marching through Savoy, crossed the mountains, meaning to\nlay waste the lands King Arthur had conquered. He besieged and took\na castle near Cologne, which he garrisoned with Saracens and\nunbelievers. Then he passed on, plundering and pillaging the country,\ntill he entered Burgundy, where he halted to collect the whole of\nhis army before invading and laying utterly waste the land of Little\nBritain.\n\nIn the meantime preparations were being made on the side of the\nBritish. A parliament was held at York, and there it was resolved that\nall the navy of the kingdom should be got ready and assembled\nwithin fifteen days at Sandwich. Sir Baudewaine of Britain, and Sir\nConstantine, the son of Sir Cador of Cornwall, were chosen by the King\nto be his viceroys during his absence; and to them, in the presence\nof all his lords, he confided the care of his kingdom, and he also\nentrusted to them Queen Guinevere. She, when the time drew near for\nthe departure of her lord, wept and lamented so piteously that at last\nshe swooned, and was carried away to her chamber by the ladies that\nattended upon her. Then King Arthur mounted his horse, and, putting\nhimself at the head of his troops, made proclamation in a loud voice\nthat should death befall him during this expedition, his wish was\nthat Sir Constantine, who was his heir by blood, should succeed to his\npossessions and to his throne.\n\nSo King Arthur and his army came to Sandwich, where they found\nawaiting them a great multitude of galleys and vessels of all sorts,\non which they embarked and set out to sea. That night, as the King lay\nasleep in his cabin, he dreamed a marvelous dream. A dreadful dragon\nappeared, flying out of the west. Its head was all enameled with azure\nenamel. Its wings and its claws glistened like gold. Its feet were\nblack as jet. Its body was sheathed in scales that shone as armor\nshines after it has been polished, and it had a very great and\nremarkable tail. Then there came a cloud out of the east. The grimmest\nbeast man ever saw rode upon this cloud; it was a wild boar, roaring\nand growling so hideously that it was terrifying to hear it. The\ndragon flew down the wind like a falcon and struck at this boar; but\nit defended itself with its grisly tusks, and wounded the dragon\nin the breast so severely that its blood, pouring into the sea in\ntorrents, made all the waves red. Then the dragon turned and flew\naway, and having mounted up to a great height, again swooped down\nupon the boar and fastened its claws in the beast's back. The boar\nstruggled, and raged, and writhed, but all in vain. It was at the\nmercy of its foe, and so merciless was the dragon that it never\nloosened its grip till it had torn the boar limb from limb and bone\nfrom bone, and scattered it piecemeal upon the surface of the sea.\n\nThen King Arthur awoke, and, starting up in great dismay, sent for a\nwise man that was on board the ship and bade him interpret the dream.\n\n\"Sir,\" the wise man said, \"the dragon which you saw in your dream\nsurely betokens your own self, its golden wings signifying the\ncountries you have won with your sword, and its marvelous tail the\nknights of the Round Table. As for the boar that was slain, that may\nbetoken either a tyrant that torments his people, or some hideous\nand abominable giant with whom you are about to fight. And the dream\nforeshadows victory for you. Therefore, though it was very dreadful,\nyou should take comfort from it and be of a good heart.\"\n\nBefore long the sailors sighted land, and the army disembarked at a\nport in Flanders, where many great lords were awaiting the arrival\nof King Arthur, as had been ordained. And to him, soon after he had\narrived, there came a husbandman bringing grievous news. A monstrous\ngiant had for years infested the country on the borders of Little\nBritain, and had slain many people and devoured such numbers of\nchildren that there were none left for him to prey upon. And being in\nsearch of victims, and coming upon the Duchess of Little Britain as\nshe rode with her knights, he had laid hands upon her and carried\nher off to his den in a mountain. Five hundred men that followed the\nduchess could not rescue her, but they heard such heartrending cries\nand shrieks that they had little doubt she had been put to death.\n\n\"Now,\" said the husbandman, \"as you are a great and noble King and a\nvaliant conqueror, and as this lady was wife to Sir Howel, who is your\nown cousin, take pity on her and on all of us, and avenge us upon this\nvile giant.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" King Arthur replied, \"this is a grievous and an evil matter.\nI would give all my kingdom to have been at hand, so that I might have\nsaved that fair lady.\"\n\nThen he asked the husbandman whether he could show him the place where\nthe giant would be found, and the man said that was easy to do, for\nthere were always two fires burning outside the den he haunted. In\nthat den, the husbandman believed, was stored more treasure than the\nwhole realm of France contained.\n\nThen the King took Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere apart privately into his\ntent, and bade them secretly get ready their horses and armor, and his\nown, for it was his intention that night, after evensong, to set out\non a pilgrimage to St. Michael's Mount with them, and nobody besides\nthem was to accompany him. So when evening came, the King, and Sir\nKay, and Sir Bedivere armed themselves, and taking their horses, rode\nas fast as they could to the foot of St. Michael's Mount. There the\nKing alighted and bade his knights stay where they were, while he\nhimself ascended the mount.\n\nHe went up the hillside till he came to a huge fire. Close to it was a\nnewly made grave, by which was sitting a sorrowful widow wringing\nher hands and making great lamentation. King Arthur saluted her\ncourteously, and asked for whom she was weeping. She prayed him to\nspeak softly, for \"Yonder,\" said she, \"is a monstrous giant that\nwill come and destroy you should your voice reach his ears. Luckless\nwretch, what brings you to this mountain?\" asked the widow. \"Fifty\nsuch knights as you could not hold their ground against the monster.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" he replied, \"the mighty conqueror King Arthur has sent me\nas his ambassador to this giant, to inquire why he ventures thus to\nmisuse and maltreat the people of the land.\"\n\n\"A useless embassy in very truth!\" she said. \"Little does he care for\nKing Arthur, or for any other man. Not many days have passed since\nhe murdered the fairest lady in the world, the wife of Sir Howel of\nLittle Britain; and had you brought with you King Arthur's own wife,\nQueen Guinevere, he would not be afraid to murder her. Yet, if you\nmust needs speak with him, you will find him yonder over the crest of\nthe hill.\"\n\n\"This is a fearful warning you give me,\" said the King. \"Yet none the\nless, believe me, will I accomplish the task that has been allotted\nme.\"\n\nHaving climbed up to the crest of the hill, King Arthur looked down,\nand close below him he saw the giant basking at his ease by the side\nof a great fire.\n\n\"Thou villain!\" cried the King--\"thou villain! short shall be thy life\nand shameful shall be thy death. Rise and defend yourself. My sword\nshall avenge that fair duchess whom you murdered.\"\n\nStarting from the ground, the giant snatched up his great iron club,\nand aiming a swinging blow at King Arthur's head, swept the crest off\nhis helmet. Then the King flew at him, and they wrestled and wrestled\ntill they fell, and as they struggled on the ground King Arthur again\nand again smote the giant with his dagger, and they rolled and tumbled\ndown the hill till they reached the sea-beach at its foot, where Sir\nKay and Sir Bedivere were waiting their lord's return. Rushing to his\naid, the two knights at once set their master free, for they found\nthat the giant, in whose arms he was locked, was already dead.\n\nThen King Arthur sent Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere up the hill to fetch\nthe sword and shield that he had let fall and left there, and also the\ngiant's iron club and cloak, and he told them they might keep whatever\ntreasure they found in his den, for he desired nothing besides the\nclub and the cloak. So they went and did as they were bidden, and\nbrought away as much treasure as they desired.\n\nWhen the news of the oppressor's death was spread abroad, the people\ncame in throngs to thank the King, who had delivered them; but he bade\nthem rather give thanks to Heaven. Then, having distributed among\nthem the treasure his knights had not needed, and having commanded Sir\nHowel to build upon the hill which the giant had haunted a chapel in\nhonor of St. Michael, he returned to his army, and led it into the\ncountry of Champagne, where he pitched his camp in a valley.\n\nThat evening two men, of whom one was the Marshal of France, came into\nthe pavilion where King Arthur sat at table. They brought news that\nthe Emperor was in Burgundy, burning and sacking towns and villages,\nso that, unless King Arthur came quickly to their succor, the men of\nthose parts would be forced to surrender themselves and their goods to\nRome.\n\nHearing this, King Arthur summoned four of his knights--Sir Gawaine,\nSir Bors, Sir Lionel, and Sir Badouine--and ordered them to go with\nall speed to the Emperor's camp, and all upon him either to leave the\nland at once or make ready for battle, since King Arthur would not\nsuffer the people to be harried any longer. These four knights,\naccordingly, rode off with their followers, and before very long they\ncame to a meadow, where, pitched by the side of a stream, they saw\nmany stately tents, and in the middle of them one which, it was plain,\nmust be the Emperor's, for above it floated a banner on which was an\neagle.\n\nThen they halted and took counsel what it would be best to do, and it\nwas agreed that the rest of the party should remain in ambush in\nthe wood while Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors delivered the message they\nbrought. Having heard it, the Emperor Lucius said they had better\nreturn and advise King Arthur to make preparations for being subdued\nby Rome and losing all his possessions. To this taunt Sir Gawaine and\nSir Bors made angry replies, whereupon Sir Gainus, a knight who was\nnear of kin to the Emperor, laughed, and said that British knights\nbehaved as if the whole world rested on their shoulders. Sir Gawaine\nwas infuriated beyond all measure by these words, and he and Sir Bors\nfled as fast as their horses could put legs to the ground, dashing\nheadlong through woods and across streams, till they came to the spot\nwhere they had left their comrades in ambush.\n\nThe Romans followed in hot pursuit, and pressed them hard all the way.\nOne knight, indeed, had almost overtaken them, when Sir Bors turned\nand ran him through with his spear. Then Sir Lionel and Sir Badouine\ncame to their assistance, and there was a great and fierce encounter,\nand such was the bravery of the British that they routed the Romans\nand chased them right up to their tents. There the enemy made a stand,\nand Sir Bors was taken prisoner; but Sir Gawaine, drawing his good\nsword, vowed that he would either rescue his comrade or never look\nKing Arthur in the face again, and falling upon the men that had\ncaptured Sir Bors, he delivered him out of their hands.\n\nThen the fight waxed hotter and hotter, and the British knights were\nin such jeopardy that Sir Gawaine dispatched a messenger to bring him\nhelp as quickly as it could be sent, for he was wounded and sorely\nhurt. King Arthur, having received the message, instantly mustered his\narmy; but before he could set out, into the camp rode Sir Gawaine and\nhis companions, bringing with them many prisoners. And the only one\nof the band who had suffered any hurt was Sir Gawaine, whom the king\nconsoled as best he could, bidding his surgeon at once attend to his\nwounds.\n\nThus ended the first battle between the Britons and the Romans. That\nnight there was great rejoicing in the camp of King Arthur; and on the\nnext day all the prisoners were sent to Paris, with Sir Launcelot du\nLake and Sir Cador, and many other knights to guard them. On the way,\npassing through a wood, they were beset by a force the Emperor Lucius\nhad placed there in ambush. Then Sir Launcelot, though the enemy had\nsix men for every one he had with him, fought with such fury that no\none could stand up against him; and at last, in dread of his prowess\nand might, the Romans and their allies the Saracens turned and fled as\nthough they had been sheep and Sir Launcelot a wolf or a lion. But\nthe skirmish had lasted so long that tidings of it had reached King\nArthur, who arrayed himself and hurried to the aid of his knights.\nFinding them already victorious, he embraced them one by one, saying\nthat they were indeed worthy of whatever honors had been granted them\nin the past, and that no other king had ever had such noble knights as\nhe had.\n\nTo this Sir Cador answered that they might one and all claim at least\nthe merit of not having deserted their posts, but that the honor of\nthe day belonged to Sir Launcelot, for it passed man's wit to describe\nall the feats of arms he had performed. Then Sir Cador told the King\nthat certain of his knights were slain, and who they were, whereupon\nKing Arthur wept bitterly.\n\n\"Truly,\" he said, \"your valor nearly was the destruction of you all.\nYet you would not have been disgraced in my eyes had you retreated.\nTo me it seems a rash and foolhardy thing for knights to stand their\nground when they find themselves overmatched.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" replied Sir Launcelot, \"I think otherwise; for a knight who has\nonce been put to shame may never recover the honor he has forfeited.\"\n\nThere was among the Romans who escaped from that battle a senator.\nHe went to the Emperor Lucius and said, \"Sir, my advice is that you\nwithdraw your army, for this day has proved that grievous blows are\nall we shall win here. There is not one of King Arthur's knights that\nhas not proved himself worth a hundred of ours.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" cried Lucius, \"that is coward's talk and to hear it grieves me\nmore than all the losses I have sustained this day.\"\n\nThen he ordered one of his most trusty allies to take a great\nforce and advance as fast as he possibly could, the Emperor himself\nintending to follow in all haste. Warning of this having been brought\nsecretly to the British camp, King Arthur sent part of his forces\nto Sessoigne to occupy the towns and castles before the Romans could\nreach him. The rest he posted up and down the country, so as to cut\noff every way by which the enemy might escape.\n\nBefore long the Emperor entered the valley of Sessoigne, and found\nhimself face to face with King Arthur's men, drawn up in battle\narray. Seeing that retreat was impossible--for he was hemmed in by his\nenemies, and had either to fight his way through them or surrender--he\nmade an oration to his followers, praying them to quit themselves like\nmen that day, and to remember that to allow the Britons to hold their\nground would bring disgrace upon Rome, the mistress of the world.\n\nThen, at the Emperor's command, his trumpeters sounded their trumpets\nso defiantly that the very earth trembled and shook; and the two hosts\njoined battle, rushing at one another with mighty shouts. Many knights\nfought nobly that day, but none more nobly than King Arthur. Riding up\nand down the battle-field, he exhorted his knights to bear themselves\nbravely; and wherever the fray was thickest, and his people most\nsorely pressed, he dashed to the rescue and hewed down the Romans with\nhis good sword Excalibur. Among those he slew was a marvelous great\ngiant called Galapus. First of all, King Arthur smote off this giant's\nlegs by the knees, saying that made him a more convenient size to deal\nwith, and then he smote off his head. Such was the hugeness of the\nbody of Galapus, that, as it fell, it crushed six Saracens to death.\n\nBut though King Arthur fought thus fiercely, and Sir Gawaine and all\nthe other knights of the Round Table did nobly, the host of their\nenemies was so great that it seemed as if the battle would never come\nto an end, the Britons having the advantage at one moment and the\nRomans at another.\n\nNow, among the Romans, no man fought more bravely than the Emperor\nLucius. King Arthur, spying the marvelous feats of arms he performed,\nrode up and challenged him to a single combat. They exchanged many a\nmighty blow, and at last Lucius struck King Arthur across the face,\nand inflicted a grievous wound. Feeling the smart of it, King Arthur\ndealt back such a stroke that his sword Excalibur clove the Emperor's\nhelmet in half, and splitting his skull, passed right down to his\nbreast-bone.\n\nThus Lucius, the Emperor of the Romans, lost his life; and when it\nwas known that he was slain, his whole army turned and fled, and King\nArthur and his knights chased them, slaying all they could overtake.\nOf the host that followed Lucius, more than a hundred thousand men\nfell that day.\n\nKing Arthur, after he had won the great battle in which the Emperor\nLucius was slain, marched into Lorraine, and so on through Brabant\nand Flanders into Germany, and across the mountains into Lombardy, and\nthence into Tuscany, and at last came to Rome, and on Christmas Day he\nwas crowned emperor by the Pope with great state and solemnity. And\nhe stayed in Rome a little while, setting in order the affairs of\nhis possession, and distributing among his knights posts of honor and\ndignity, and also great estates, as rewards for their services.\n\nAfter these affairs had been duly arranged, all the British lords and\nknights assembled in the presence of the King, and said to him:\n\n\"Noble Emperor, now that, Heaven be thanked for it, this great war is\nover, and your enemies so utterly vanquished that henceforward, as we\nbelieve, no man, however great or mighty he may be, will dare to stand\nup against you, we beseech you to grant us leave to return to our\nwives and our homes, that there we may rest ourselves.\"\n\nThis request King Arthur granted, saying that it would be wise, seeing\nthey had met with such good fortune so far, to be content with it and\nto return home. Also he gave orders that there should be no plundering\nor pillaging of the country through which they had to pass on their\nway back, but that they should, on pain of death, pay the full price\nfor victuals or whatever else they took.\n\nSo King Arthur and his host set off from Rome and came over the sea\nand landed at Sandwich, where Queen Guinevere came to meet her lord.\nAnd at Sandwich and throughout the land there were great festivities,\nand noble gifts were presented to the King; for his people rejoiced\nmightily both because he had returned safely home, and because of the\ngreat victories he had achieved.\n\n\n\n\nSIR GALAHAD AND THE SACRED CUP\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\n  \"My strength is as the strength of ten,\n  Because my heart is pure,\"\n\nsang Galahad gladly. He was only a boy, but he had just been made a\nknight by Sir Lancelot, and the old abbey, where he had lived all his\nlife, rang with the echo of his song.\n\nSir Lancelot heard the boy's clear voice singing in triumph. As he\nstopped to listen, he caught the words,\n\n  \"My strength is as the strength of ten,\n  Because my heart is pure,\"\n\nand the great knight wished he were a boy again, and could sing that\nsong too.\n\n[Illustration: SIR GALAHAD.]\n\nTwelve nuns lived in the quiet abbey, and they had taught Galahad\nlovingly and carefully, ever since he had come to them as a beautiful\nlittle child. And the boy had dwelt happily with them there in the\nstill old abbey, and he would be sorry to leave them, but he was a\nknight now. He would fight for the King he reverenced so greatly, and\nfor the country he loved so well.\n\nYet when Sir Lancelot left the abbey the next day, Galahad did not go\nwith him. He would stay in his old home a little longer, he thought.\nHe would not grieve the nuns by a hurried farewell.\n\nSir Lancelot left the abbey alone, but as he rode along he met two\nknights, and together they reached Camelot, where the King was holding\na great festival.\n\nKing Arthur welcomed Sir Lancelot and the two knights. \"Now all the\nseats at our table will be filled,\" he said gladly. For it pleased the\nKing when the circle of his knights was unbroken.\n\nThen all the King's household went to service at the minster, and when\nthey came back to the palace they saw a strange sight.\n\nIn the dining-hall the Round Table at which the King and his knights\nalways sat seemed strangely bright.\n\nThe King looked more closely, and saw that at one place on this\nRound Table were large letters. And he read, \"This is the seat of\nSir Galahad, the Pure-hearted.\" But only Sir Lancelot knew that Sir\nGalahad was the boy-knight he had left behind him in the quiet old\nabbey.\n\n\"We will cover the letters till the Knight of the Pure Heart comes,\"\nsaid Sir Lancelot; and he took silk and laid it over the glittering\nletters.\n\nThen as they sat down to table they were disturbed by Sir Kay, the\nsteward of the King's kitchen.\n\n\"You do not sit down to eat at this festival,\" Sir Kay reminded the\nKing, \"till you have seen or heard some great adventure.\" And the\nKing told his steward that the writing in gold had made him forget his\nusual custom.\n\nAs they waited a squire came hastily into the hall. \"I have a strange\ntale to tell,\" he said. \"As I walked along the bank of the river I saw\na great stone, and it floated on the top of the water, and into the\nstone there has been thrust a sword.\"\n\nThen the King and all his knights went down to the river, and they\nsaw the stone, and it was like red marble. And the sword that had\nbeen thrust into the stone was strong and fair. The handle of it was\nstudded with precious stones, and among the stones there were letters\nof gold.\n\nThe King stepped forward, and bending over the sword read these\nwords: \"No one shall take me away save him to whom I belong. I will\nhang only by the side of the best knight in the world.\"\n\nThe King turned to Sir Lancelot. \"The sword is yours, for surely there\nlives no truer knight.\"\n\nBut Sir Lancelot answered gravely, \"The sword is not mine. It will\nnever hang by my side, for I dare not try to take it.\"\n\nThe King was sorry that his great knight's courage failed, but he\nturned to Sir Gawaine and asked him to try to take the sword.\n\nAnd at first Sir Gawaine hesitated. But when he looked again at the\nprecious stones that sparkled on the handle, he hesitated no longer.\nBut he no sooner touched the sword than it wounded him, so that he\ncould not use his arm for many days.\n\nThen the King turned to Sir Percivale. And because Arthur wished it,\nSir Percivale tried to take the sword; but he could not move it. And\nafter that no other knight dared to touch the fair sword; so they\nturned and went back to the palace.\n\nIn the dining-hall the King and his knights sat down once more at the\nRound Table, and each knight knew his own chair. And all the seats\nwere filled except the chair opposite the writing in gold.\n\nIt had been a day full of surprise, but now the most wonderful thing\nof all happened. For as they sat down, suddenly all the doors of the\npalace shut with a loud noise, but no one had touched the doors. And\nall the windows were softly closed, but no one saw the hands that\nclosed them.\n\nThen one of the doors opened, and there came in a very old man dressed\nall in white, and no one knew whence he came.\n\nBy his side was a young man in red armor. He had neither sword nor\nshield, but hanging by his side was an empty sheath.\n\nThere was a great silence in the hall as the old man said, slowly and\nsolemnly, \"I bring you the young knight Sir Galahad, who is descended\nfrom a king. He shall do many great deeds, and he shall see the Holy\nGrail.\"\n\n\"He shall see the Holy Grail,\" the knights repeated, with awe on their\nfaces.\n\nFor far back, in the days of their boyhood, they had heard the story\nof the Holy Grail. It was the Sacred Cup out of which their Lord had\ndrunk before He died.\n\nAnd they had been told how sometimes it was seen carried by angels,\nand how at other times in a gleam of light. But in whatever way it\nappeared, it was seen only by those who were pure in heart.\n\nAnd as the old man's words, \"He shall see the Holy Grail,\" fell on\ntheir ears, the knights thought of the story they had heard so long\nago, and they were sorry, for they had never seen the Sacred Cup, and\nthey knew that it was unseen only by those who had done wrong.\n\nBut the old man was telling the boy-knight to follow him. He led\nhim to the empty chair, and lifted the silk that covered the golden\nletters. \"This is the seat of Sir Galahad, the Pure-hearted,\" he read\naloud. And the young knight sat in the empty seat that belonged to\nhim.\n\nThen the old man left the palace, and twenty noble squires met him,\nand took him back to his own country.\n\nWhen dinner was ended, the King went over to the chair where his\nboy-knight sat, and welcomed him to the circle of the Round Table.\nAfterwards he took Sir Galahad's hand, and led him out of the palace\nto show him the strange red stone that floated on the river. When\nSir Galahad heard how the knights could not draw the sword out of the\nstone, he knew that this adventure was his.\n\n\"I will try to take the sword,\" said the boy-knight, \"and place it in\nmy sheath, for it is empty,\" and he pointed to his side. Then he laid\nhis hand on the wonderful sword, and easily drew it out of the stone,\nand placed it in his sheath.\n\n\"God has sent you the sword, now He will send you a shield as well,\"\nsaid King Arthur.\n\nThen the King proclaimed that the next day there would be a tournament\nin the meadows of Camelot. For before his knights went out to new\nadventures, he would see Sir Galahad proved.\n\nAnd in the morning the meadows lay bright in the sunshine. And the\nboy-knight rode bravely to his first combat, and over-threw many men;\nbut Sir Lancelot and Sir Percivale he could not overthrow.\n\nWhen the tournament was over the King and his knights went home to\nsupper, and each sat in his own seat at the Round Table.\n\nAll at once there was a loud crashing noise, a noise that was louder\nthan any peal of thunder. Was the King's wonderful palace falling to\npieces?\n\nBut while the noise still sounded a marvelous light stole into the\nroom, a light brighter than any sunbeam.\n\nAs the knights looked at one another, each seemed to the other to have\na new glory and a new beauty in his face.\n\nAnd down the sunbeam glided the Holy Grail. It was the Sacred Cup they\nhad all longed to see. But no one saw it, for it was invisible to all\nbut the pure-hearted Sir Galahad.\n\nAs the strange light faded away, King Arthur heard his knights vowing\nthat they would go in search of the Holy Grail, and never give up the\nquest till they had found it.\n\nAnd the boy-knight knew that he too would go over land and sea, till\nhe saw again the wonderful vision.\n\nThat night the King could not sleep, for his sorrow was great. His\nknights would wander into far-off countries, and many of them would\nforget that they were in search of the Holy Grail. Would they not have\nfound the Sacred Cup one day if they had stayed with their King and\nhelped to clear the country of its enemies?\n\nIn the morning the streets of Camelot were crowded with rich and poor.\nAnd the people wept as they watched the knights ride away on their\nstrange quest. And the King wept too, for he knew that now there would\nbe many empty chairs at the Round Table.\n\nThe knights rode together to a strange city and stayed there all\nnight. The next day they separated, each going a different way.\n\nSir Galahad rode on for four days without adventure. At last he came\nto a white abbey, where he was received very kindly. And he found two\nknights there, and one was a king.\n\n\"What adventure has brought you here?\" asked the boy-knight.\n\nThen they told him that in this abbey there was a shield. And if any\nman tried to carry it, he was either wounded or dead within three\ndays.\n\n\"But to-morrow I shall try to bear it,\" said the king.\n\n\"In the name of God, let me take the shield,\" said Sir Galahad\ngravely.\n\n\"If I fail, you shall try to bear it,\" said the king. And Galahad was\nglad, for he had still no shield of his own.\n\nThen a monk took the king and the young knight behind the altar, and\nshowed them where the shield hung. It was as white as snow, but in the\nmiddle there was a red cross.\n\n\"The shield can be borne only by the worthiest knight in the world,\"\nthe monk warned the king.\n\n\"I will try to bear it, though I am no worthy knight,\" insisted the\nking; and he took the shield and rode down into the valley.\n\nAnd Galahad waited at the abbey, for the king had said he would send\nhis squire to tell the young knight how the shield had protected him.\n\nFor two miles the king rode through the valley, till he reached a\nhermitage. And he saw a warrior there, dressed in white armor, and\nsitting on a white horse.\n\nThe warrior rode quickly towards the king, and struck him so hard that\nhe broke his armor. Then he thrust his spear through the king's right\nshoulder, as though he held no shield.\n\n\"The shield can be borne only by a peerless knight. It does not belong\nto you,\" said the warrior, as he gave it to the squire, telling him\nto carry it back to the abbey and to give it to Sir Galahad with his\ngreeting.\n\n\"Then tell me your name,\" said the squire.\n\n\"I will tell neither you nor any one on earth,\" said the warrior. And\nhe disappeared, and the squire saw him no more.\n\n\"I will take the wounded King to an abbey, that his wounds may be\ndressed,\" thought the squire.\n\nAnd with great difficulty the King and his squire reached an abbey.\nAnd the monks thought his life could not be saved, but after many days\nhe was cured.\n\nThen the squire rode back to the abbey where Galahad waited. \"The\nwarrior who wounded the King bids you bear this shield,\" he said.\n\nGalahad hung the shield round his neck joyfully, and rode into the\nvalley to seek the warrior dressed in white.\n\nAnd when they met they saluted each other courteously. And the warrior\ntold Sir Galahad strange tales of the white shield, till the knight\nthanked God that now it was his. And all his life long the white\nshield with the red cross was one of his great treasures.\n\nNow Galahad rode back to the abbey, and the monks were glad to see him\nagain. \"We have need of a pure knight,\" they said, as they took Sir\nGalahad to a tomb in the churchyard.\n\nA pitiful noise was heard, and a voice from the tomb cried, \"Galahad,\nservant of God, do not come near me.\" But the young knight went\ntowards the tomb and raised the stone.\n\nThen a thick smoke was seen, and through the smoke a figure uglier\nthan any man leaped from the tomb, shouting, \"Angels are round thee,\nGalahad, servant of God. I can do you no harm.\"\n\nThe knight stooped down and saw a body all dressed in armor lying\nthere, and a sword lay by its side.\n\n\"This was a false knight,\" said Sir Galahad. \"Let us carry his body\naway from this place.\"\n\n\"You will stay in the abbey and live with us,\" entreated the monks.\nBut the boy-knight could not rest. Would he see the light that was\nbrighter than any sunbeam again? Would his adventures bring him at\nlast to the Holy Grail?\n\nSir Galahad rode on many days, till at last he reached a mountain. On\nthe mountain he found an old chapel. It was empty and very desolate.\nGalahad knelt alone before the altar, and asked God to tell him what\nto do next.\n\nAnd as he prayed a voice said, \"Thou brave knight, go to the Castle of\nMaidens and rescue them.\"\n\nGalahad rose, and gladly journeyed on to the Castle of Maidens.\n\nThere he found seven knights, who long ago had seized the castle from\na maiden to whom it belonged. And these knights had imprisoned her and\nmany other maidens.\n\nWhen the seven knights saw Sir Galahad they came out of the castle.\n\"We will take this young knight captive, and keep him in prison,\" they\nsaid to each other, as they fell upon him.\n\nBut Sir Galahad smote the first knight to the ground, so that he\nalmost broke his neck. And as his wonderful sword flashed in the\nlight, sudden fear fell on the six knights that were left and they\nturned and fled.\n\nThen an old man took the keys of the castle to Galahad. And the knight\nopened the gates of the castle, and set free many prisoners. He gave\nthe castle back to the maiden to whom it belonged, and sent for all\nthe knights in the country round about to do her homage.\n\nThen once again Sir Galahad rode on in search of the Holy Grail. And\nthe way seemed long, yet on and on he rode, till at last he reached\nthe sea.\n\nThere, on the shore, stood a maiden, and when she saw Sir Galahad, she\nled him to a ship and told him to enter.\n\nThe wind rose and drove the ship, with Sir Galahad on board, between\ntwo rocks. But when the ship could not pass that way, the knight left\nit, and entered a smaller one that awaited him.\n\nIn this ship was a table, and on the table, covered with a red cloth,\nwas the Holy Grail. Reverently Sir Galahad sank on his knees. But\nstill the Sacred Cup was covered.\n\nAt last the ship reached a strange city, and on the shore sat a\ncrippled man. Sir Galahad asked his help to lift the table from the\nship.\n\n\"For ten years I have not walked without crutches,\" said the man.\n\n\"Show that you are willing, and come to me,\" urged the knight.\n\nAnd the cripple got up, and when he found that he was cured, he ran\nto Sir Galahad, and together they carried the wonderful table to the\nshore.\n\nThen all the city was astonished, and the people talked only of the\ngreat marvel. \"The man that was a cripple for ten years can walk,\"\neach said to the other.\n\nThe king of the city heard the wonderful tale, but he was a cruel king\nand a tyrant. \"The knight is not a good man,\" he said to his people,\nand he commanded that Galahad should be put in prison. And the prison\nwas underneath the palace, and it was dark and cold there.\n\nBut down into the darkness streamed the light that had made Galahad so\nglad long ago at Camelot. And in the light Galahad saw the Holy Grail.\n\nA year passed and the cruel king was very ill, and he thought he would\ndie. Then he remembered the knight he had treated so unkindly, and who\nwas still in the dark, cold prison. \"I will send for him, and ask him\nto forgive me,\" murmured the king.\n\nAnd when Galahad was brought to the palace, he willingly forgave the\ntyrant who had put him in prison.\n\nThen the king died, and there was great dismay in the city, for where\nwould they find a good ruler to sit on the throne?\n\nAs they wondered, they heard a voice that told them to make Sir\nGalahad their king, and in great joy the knight was crowned.\n\nThen the new king ordered a box of gold and precious stones to be\nmade, and in this box he placed the wonderful table he had carried\naway from the ship. \"And every morning I and my people will come here\nto pray,\" he said.\n\nFor a year Sir Galahad ruled the country well and wisely.\n\n\"A year ago they crowned me king,\" thought Galahad gravely, as he woke\none morning. He would get up early, and go to pray at the precious\ntable.\n\nBut before the king reached the table he paused. It was early. Surely\nall the city was asleep. Yet some one was already there, kneeling\nbefore the table on which, uncovered, stood the Sacred Cup.\n\nThe man kneeling there looked holy as the saints look. Surrounding him\nwas a circle of angels. Was it a saint who kneeled, or was it the Lord\nHimself?\n\nWhen the man saw Sir Galahad, he said, \"Come near, thou servant of\nJesus Christ, and thou shalt see what thou hast so much longed to\nsee.\"\n\nAnd with joy Sir Galahad saw again the Holy Grail. Then as he kneeled\nbefore it in prayer, his soul left his body and was carried into\nheaven.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PASSING OF ARTHUR\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\nIt was not to win renown that King Arthur had gone far across the sea,\nfor he loved his own country so well, that to gain glory at home made\nhim happiest of all.\n\nBut a false knight with his followers was laying waste the country\nacross the sea, and Arthur had gone to wage war against him.\n\n\"And you, Sir Modred, will rule the country while I am gone,\" the King\nhad said. And the knight smiled as he thought of the power that would\nbe his.\n\nAt first the people missed their great King Arthur, but as the months\npassed they began to forget him, and to talk only of Sir Modred and\nhis ways.\n\nAnd he, that he might gain the people's praise, made easier laws than\never Arthur had done, till by and by there were many in the country\nwho wished that the King would never come back.\n\nWhen Modred knew what the people wished, he was glad, and he made up\nhis mind to do a cruel deed.\n\nHe would cause letters to be written from beyond the sea, and the\nletters would tell that the great King Arthur had been slain in\nbattle.\n\nAnd when the letters came the people read, \"King Arthur is dead,\" and\nthey believed the news was true.\n\nAnd there were some who wept because the noble King was slain, but\nsome had no time to weep. \"We must find a new king,\" they said. And\nbecause his laws were easy, these chose Sir Modred to rule over them.\n\nThe wicked knight was pleased that the people wished him to be their\nking. \"They shall take me to Canterbury to crown me,\" he said proudly.\nAnd the nobles took him there, and amid shouts and rejoicings he was\ncrowned.\n\nBut it was not very long till other letters came from across the sea,\nsaying that King Arthur had not been slain, and that he was coming\nback to rule over his own country once more.\n\nWhen Sir Modred heard that King Arthur was on his way home, he\ncollected a great army and went to Dover to try to keep the King from\nlanding.\n\nBut no army would have been strong enough to keep Arthur and his\nknights away from the country they loved so well. They fought fiercely\ntill they got on shore and scattered all Sir Modred's men.\n\nThen the knight gathered another army, and chose a new battle-field.\n\nBut King Arthur fought so bravely that he and his men were again\nvictorious, and Sir Modred fled to Canterbury.\n\nMany of the people began to forsake the false knight now, and saying\nthat he was a traitor, they went back to King Arthur.\n\nBut still Sir Modred wished to conquer the King. He would go through\nthe counties of Kent and Surrey and raise a new army.\n\nNow King Arthur had dreamed that if he fought with Sir Modred again\nhe would be slain. So when he heard that the knight had raised another\narmy, he thought, \"I will meet this traitor who has betrayed me.\nWhen he looks in my face, he will be ashamed and remember his vow of\nobedience.\"\n\nAnd he sent two bishops to Sir Modred. \"Say to the knight that the\nKing would speak with him alone,\" said Arthur.\n\nAnd the traitor thought, \"The King wishes to give me gold or great\npower, if I send my army away without fighting,\" \"I will meet King\nArthur,\" he said to the bishops.\n\nBut because he did not altogether trust the King he said he would take\nfourteen men with him to the meeting-place, \"and the King must have\nfourteen men with him too,\" said Sir Modred. \"And our armies shall\nkeep watch when we meet, and if a sword is lifted it shall be the\nsignal for battle.\"\n\nThen King Arthur arranged a feast for Sir Modred and his men. And as\nthey feasted all went merrily till an adder glided out of a little\nbush and stung one of the knight's men. And the pain was so great,\nthat the man quickly drew his sword to kill the adder.\n\nAnd when the armies saw the sword flash in the light, they sprang to\ntheir feet and began to fight, \"for this is the signal for battle,\"\nthey thought.\n\nAnd when evening came there were many thousand slain and wounded, and\nSir Modred was left alone. But Arthur had still two knights with him,\nSir Lucan and Sir Bedivere.\n\nWhen King Arthur saw that his army was lost and all his knights slain\nbut two, he said, \"Would to God I could find Sir Modred, who has\ncaused all this trouble.\"\n\n\"He is yonder,\" said Sir Lucan, \"but remember your dream, and go not\nnear him.\"\n\n\"Whether I die or live,\" said the King, \"he shall not escape.\" And\nseizing his spear he ran to Sir Modred, crying, \"Now you shall die.\"\n\nAnd Arthur smote him under the shield, and the spear passed through\nhis body, and he died.\n\nThen, wounded and exhausted, the King fainted, and his knights lifted\nhim and took him to a little chapel not far from a lake.\n\nAs the King lay there, he heard cries of fear and pain from the\ndistant battle-field.\n\n\"What causes these cries?\" said the King wearily. And to soothe the\nsick King, Sir Lucan said he would go to see.\n\nAnd when he reached the battle-field, he saw in the moonlight that\nrobbers were on the field stooping over the slain, and taking from\nthem their rings and their gold. And those that were only wounded, the\nrobbers slew, that they might take their jewels too.\n\nSir Lucan hastened back, and told the King what he had seen.\n\n\"We will carry you farther off, lest the robbers find us here,\"\nsaid the knights. And Sir Lucan lifted the King on one side and Sir\nBedivere lifted him on the other.\n\nBut Sir Lucan had been wounded in the battle, and as he lifted the\nKing he fell back and died.\n\nThen Arthur and Sir Bedivere wept for the fallen knight.\n\nNow the King felt so ill that he thought he would not live much\nlonger, and he turned to Sir Bedivere: \"Take Excalibur, my good\nsword,\" he said, \"and go with it to the lake, and throw it into its\nwaters. Then come quickly and tell me what you see.\"\n\nSir Bedivere took the sword and went down to the lake. But as he\nlooked at the handle with its sparkling gems and the richness of\nthe sword, he thought he could not throw it away. \"I will hide it\ncarefully here among the rushes,\" thought the knight. And when he had\nhidden it, he went slowly to the King and told him he had thrown the\nsword into the lake.\n\n\"What did you see?\" asked the King eagerly.\n\n\"Nothing but the ripple of the waves as they broke on the beach,\" said\nSir Bedivere.\n\n\"You have not told me the truth,\" said the King. \"If you love me, go\nagain to the lake, and throw my sword into the water.\"\n\nAgain the knight went to the water's edge. He drew the sword from its\nhiding-place. He would do the King's will, for he loved him. But again\nthe beauty of the sword made him pause. \"It is a noble sword; I will\nnot throw it away,\" he murmured, as once more he hid it among the\nrushes. Then he went back more slowly, and told the King that he had\ndone his will.\n\n\"What did you see?\" asked the King.\n\n\"Nothing but the ripples of the waves as they broke on the beach,\"\nrepeated the knight.\n\n\"You have betrayed me twice,\" said the King sadly, \"and yet you are\na noble knight! Go again to the lake, and do not betray me for a rich\nsword.\"\n\nThen for the third time Sir Bedivere went to the water's edge, and\ndrawing the sword from among the rushes, he flung it as far as he\ncould into the lake.\n\nAnd as the knight watched, an arm and a hand appeared above the\nsurface of the lake. He saw the hand seize the sword, and shaking it\nthree times, disappear again under the water. Then Sir Bedivere went\nback quickly to the King, and told him what he had seen.\n\n\"Carry me to the lake,\" entreated Arthur, \"for I have been here too\nlong.\"\n\nAnd the knight carried the King on his shoulders down to the water's\nside. There they found a barge lying, and seated in it were three\nqueens, and each queen wore a black hood. And when they saw King\nArthur they wept.\n\n\"Lay me in the barge,\" said the King. And when Sir Bedivere had laid\nhim there, King Arthur rested his head on the lap of the fairest\nqueen. And they rowed from land.\n\nSir Bedivere, left alone, watched the barge as it drifted out of\nsight, and then he went sorrowfully on his way, till he reached a\nhermitage. And he lived there as a hermit for the rest of his life.\n\nAnd the barge was rowed to a vale where the King was healed of his\nwound.\n\nAnd some say that now he is dead, but others say that King Arthur will\ncome again, and clear the country of its foes.\n\n\n\n\nROBIN HOOD\n\nADAPTED BY H.E. MARSHALL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nHOW ROBIN HOOD CAME TO LIVE IN THE GREEN WOOD\n\n\nVery many years ago there ruled over England a king, who was called\nRichard Coeur de Lion. Coeur de Lion is French and means lion-hearted.\nIt seems strange that an English king should have a French name. But\nmore than a hundred years before this king reigned, a French duke\nnamed William came to England, defeated the English in a great battle,\nand declared himself king of all that southern part of Britain called\nEngland.\n\nHe brought with him a great many Frenchmen, or Normans, as they were\ncalled from the name of the part of France over which this duke ruled.\nThese Normans were all poor though they were very proud and haughty.\nThey came with Duke William to help him to fight because he promised\nto give them money and lands as a reward. Now Duke William had not a\ngreat deal of money nor many lands of his own. So when he had beaten\nthe English, or Saxons, as they were called in those days, he stole\nlands and houses, money and cattle from the Saxon nobles and gave them\nto the Normans. The Saxon nobles themselves had very often to become\nthe servants of these proud Normans. Thus it came about that two races\nlived in England, each speaking their own language, and each hating\nthe other.\n\nThis state of things lasted for a very long time. Even when Richard\nbecame king, more than a hundred years after the coming of Duke\nWilliam, there was still a great deal of hatred between the two races.\n\nRichard Coeur de Lion, as his name tells you, was a brave and noble\nman. He loved danger; he loved brave men and noble deeds. He hated all\nmean and cruel acts, and the cowards who did them. He was ever ready\nto help the weak against the strong, and had he stayed in England\nafter he became king he might have done much good. He might have\ntaught the proud Norman nobles that true nobility rests in being kind\nand gentle to those less strong and less fortunate than ourselves, and\nnot in fierceness and cruelty.\n\nYet Richard himself was neither meek nor gentle. He was indeed very\nfierce and terrible in battle. He loved to fight with people who were\nstronger or better armed than himself. He would have been ashamed to\nhurt the weak and feeble.\n\nBut Richard did not stay in England. Far, far over the seas there is\na country called Palestine. There our Lord was born, lived, and died.\nChristian people in all ages must think tenderly and gratefully of\nthat far-off country. But at this time it had fallen into the hands of\nthe heathen. It seemed to Christian people in those days that it would\nbe a terrible sin to allow wicked heathen to live in the Holy Land. So\nthey gathered together great armies of brave men from every country in\nthe world and sent them to try to win it back. Many brave deeds\nwere done, many terrible battles fought, but still the heathen kept\npossession.\n\nThen brave King Richard of England said he too would fight for the\ncity of our Lord. So he gathered together as much money as he could\nfind, and as many brave men as would follow him, and set out for the\nHoly Land. Before he went away he called two bishops who he thought\nwere good and wise men, and said to them: \"Take care of England while\nI am gone. Rule my people wisely and well, and I will reward you\nwhen I return.\" The bishops promised to do as he asked. Then he said\nfarewell and sailed away.\n\nNow King Richard had a brother who was called Prince John. Prince John\nwas quite different from King Richard in every way. He was not at all\na nice man. He was jealous of Richard because he was king, and angry\nbecause he himself had not been chosen to rule while Richard was in\nPalestine. As soon as his brother had gone, John went to the bishops\nand said, \"You must let me rule while the King is away.\" And the\nbishops allowed him to do so. Deep down in his wicked heart John meant\nto make himself king altogether, and never let Richard come back any\nmore.\n\nA very sad time now began for the Saxons. John tried to please the\nhaughty Normans because they were great and powerful, and he hoped\nthey would help to make him king. He thought the best way to please\nthem was to give them land and money. So as he had none of his own (he\nwas indeed called John Lackland) he took it from the Saxons and gave\nit to the Normans. Thus many of the Saxons once more became homeless\nbeggars, and lived a wild life in the forests, which covered a great\npart of England at this time.\n\nNow among the few Saxon nobles who still remained, and who had not\nbeen robbed of their lands and money, there was one called Robert,\nEarl of Huntingdon. He had one son also named Robert, but people\ncalled him Robin. He was a favorite with every one. Tall, strong,\nhandsome, and full of fun, he kept his father's house bright with\nsongs and laughter. He was brave and fearless too, and there was no\nbetter archer in all the countryside. And with it all he was gentle\nand tender, never hurting the weak nor scorning the poor.\n\nBut Robert of Huntingdon had a bitter enemy. One day this enemy came\nwith many soldiers behind him, determined to kill the earl and take\nall his goods and lands. There was a fierce and terrible fight, but\nin the end Robert and all his men were killed. His house was burned\nto the ground and all his money stolen. Only Robin was saved, because\nhe was such a splendid archer that no soldier would go near him,\neither to kill him or take him prisoner. He fought bravely till the\nlast, but when he saw that his father was dead and his home in\nflames, he had no heart to fight any longer. So taking his bow and\narrows, he fled to the great forest of Sherwood.\n\nVery fast he had to run, for Prince John's men were close behind him.\nSoon he reached the edge of the forest, but he did not stop there.\nOn and on he went, plunging deeper and deeper under the shadow of the\ntrees. At last he threw himself down beneath a great oak, burying his\nface in the cool, green grass.\n\nHis heart felt hot and bitter. He was full of rage and fierce thoughts\nof revenge. Cruel men in one day had robbed him of everything. His\nfather, his home, servants, cattle, land, money, his name even, all\nwere gone. He was bruised, hungry, and weary. Yet as he lay pressing\nhis face against the cool, green grass, and clutching the soft, damp\nmoss with his hands, it was not sorrow or pain he felt, but only a\nbitter longing for revenge.\n\n[Illustration: ROBIN HOOD IN AN ENCOUNTER.]\n\nThe great, solemn trees waved gently overhead in the summer breeze,\nthe setting sun sent shafts of golden light into the cool, blue\nshadows, birds sang their evening songs, deer rustled softly through\nthe underwood, and bright-eyed squirrels leaped noiselessly from\nbranch to branch. Everywhere there was calm and peace except in poor\nRobin's angry heart.\n\nRobin loved the forest. He loved the sights and scents, and the sounds\nand deep silences of it. He felt as if it were a tender mother who\nopened her wide arms to him. Soon it comforted him, and at last the\ntears came hot and fast, and sobs shook him as he lay on the grass.\nThe bitterness and anger had all melted out of his heart; only sorrow\nwas left.\n\nIn the dim evening light Robin knelt bareheaded on the green grass\nto say his prayers. Then, still bareheaded, he stood up and swore an\noath. This was the oath:\n\n  \"I swear to honor God and the King,\n  To help the weak and fight the strong,\n  To take from the rich and give to the poor,\n  So God will help, me with His power.\"\n\nThen he lay down on the grass under the trees with his good longbow\nbeside him, and fell fast asleep.\n\nAnd this is how Robin Hood first came to live in the Green Wood and\nhave all his wonderful adventures.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE MEETING OF ROBIN HOOD AND LITTLE JOHN\n\n\nWhen Robin first came to live in Sherwood Forest he was rather sad,\nfor he could not at once forget all he had lost. But he was not long\nlonely. When it became known that he had gone to live in the Green\nWood, other poor men, who had been driven out of their homes by the\nNormans, joined him. They soon formed a band and were known as the\n\"Merry Men.\"\n\nRobin was no longer called Robin of Huntingdon, but Robin of Sherwood\nForest. Very soon people shortened Sherwood into Hood, though some\npeople say he was called Hood from the green hoods he and his men\nwore. How he came to have his name does not matter very much. People\nalmost forgot that he was really an earl, and he became known, not\nonly all over England, but in many far countries, as Robin Hood.\n\nRobin was captain of the band of Merry Men. Next to him came Little\nJohn. He was called Little John because he was so tall, just as Midge\nthe miller's son was called Much because he was so small.\n\nRobin loved Little John best of all his friends. Little John loved\nRobin better than any one else in all the world. Yet the first time\nthey met they fought and knocked each other about dreadfully.\n\n  \"How they came acquainted, I'll tell you in brief,\n     If you will but listen a while;\n   For this very jest, among all the rest,\n     I think it may cause you to smile.\"\n\nIt happened on a bright sunshiny day in early spring. All through the\nwinter Robin and his men had had a very dull time. Nearly all their\nfun and adventures happened with people traveling through the forest.\nAs there were no trains, people had to travel on horseback. In winter\nthe roads were bad, and the weather so cold and wet, that most people\nstayed at home. So it was rather a quiet time for Robin and his men.\nThey lived in great caves during the winter, and spent their time\nmaking stores of bows and arrows, and mending their boots and clothes.\n\nThis bright sunshiny morning Robin felt dull and restless, so he took\nhis bow and arrows, and started off through the forest in search of\nadventure.\n\nHe wandered on for some time without meeting any one. Presently he\ncame to a river. It was wide and deep, swollen by the winter rains.\nIt was crossed by a very slender, shaky bridge, so narrow, that if two\npeople tried to pass each other on it, one would certainly fall into\nthe water.\n\nRobin began to cross the bridge, before he noticed that a great, tall\nman, the very tallest man he had ever seen, was crossing too from the\nother side.\n\n\"Go back and wait until I have come over,\" he called out as soon as he\nnoticed the stranger.\n\nThe stranger laughed, and called out in reply, \"I have as good a right\nto the bridge as you. _You_ can go back till _I_ get across.\"\n\nThis made Robin very angry. He was so accustomed to being obeyed that\nhe was very much astonished too. Between anger and astonishment he\nhardly knew what he did.\n\nHe drew an arrow from his quiver, and fitting it to his bow, called\nout again, \"If you don't go back I'll shoot.\"\n\n\"If you do, I'll beat you till you are black and blue,\" replied the\nstranger.\n\n  \"Quoth bold Robin Hood, 'Thou dost prate like an ass,\n    For, were I to bend my bow,\n  I could send a dart quite through thy proud heart,\n    Before thou couldst strike a blow.'\"\n\n\"If I talk like an ass you talk like a coward,\" replied the stranger.\n\"Do you call it fair to stand with your bow and arrow ready to shoot\nat me when I have only a stick to defend myself with? I tell you, you\nare a coward. You are afraid of the beating I would give you.\"\n\nRobin was not a coward, and he was not afraid. So he threw his bow and\narrows on the bank behind him.\n\n\"You are a big, boastful bully,\" he said. \"Just wait there until I get\na stick. I hope I may give you as good a beating as you deserve.\"\n\nThe stranger laughed. \"I won't run away; don't be afraid,\" he said.\n\nRobin Hood stepped to a thicket of trees and cut himself a good, thick\noak stick. While he was doing this, he looked at the stranger, and saw\nthat he was not only taller but much stronger than himself.\n\nHowever, that did not frighten Robin in the least. He was rather glad\nof it indeed. The stranger had said he was a coward. He meant to prove\nto him that he was not.\n\nBack he came with a fine big stick in his hand and a smile on his\nface. The idea of a real good fight had made his bad temper fly away,\nfor, like King Richard, Robin Hood was rather fond of a fight.\n\n\"We will fight on the bridge,\" said he, \"and whoever first falls into\nthe river has lost the battle.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said the stranger. \"Whatever you like. I'm not afraid.\"\n\nThen they fell to, with right good will.\n\nIt was very difficult to fight standing on such a narrow bridge. They\nkept swaying backwards and forwards trying to keep their balance. With\nevery stroke the bridge bent and trembled beneath them as if it would\nbreak. All the same they managed to give each other some tremendous\nblows. First Robin gave the stranger such a bang that his very bones\nseemed to ring.\n\n\"Aha!\" said he, \"I'll give you as good as I get,\" and crack he went at\nRobin's crown.\n\nBang, smash, crack, bang, they went at each other. Their blows fell\nfast and thick as if they had been threshing corn.\n\n  \"The stranger gave Robin a knock on the crown,\n     Which caused the blood to appear,\n  Then Robin enraged, more fiercely engaged,\n     And followed with blows more severe.\n\n  \"So thick and so fast did he lay it on him,\n     With a passionate fury and ire,\n  At every stroke he made him to smoke,\n     As if he had been all on fire.\"\n\nWhen Robin's blows came so fast and furious, the stranger felt he\ncould not stand it much longer. Gathering all his strength, with one\nmighty blow he sent Robin backwards, right into the river. Head over\nheels he went, and disappeared under the water.\n\nThe stranger very nearly fell in after him. He was so astonished at\nRobin's sudden disappearance that he could not think for a minute or\ntwo where he had vanished to. He knelt down on the bridge, and stared\ninto the water. \"Hallo, my good man,\" he called. \"Hallo, where are\nyou?\"\n\nHe thought he had drowned Robin, and he had not meant to do that. All\nthe same he could not help laughing. Robin had looked so funny as he\ntumbled into the water.\n\n\"I'm here,\" called Robin, from far down the river. \"I'm all right. I'm\njust swimming with the tide.\"\n\nThe current was very strong and had carried him down the river a good\nway. He was, however, gradually making for the bank. Soon he caught\nhold of the overhanging branches of a tree and pulled himself out. The\nstranger came running to help him too.\n\n\"You are not an easy man to beat or to drown either,\" he said with a\nlaugh, as he helped Robin on to dry land again.\n\n\"Well,\" said Robin, laughing too, \"I must own that you are a brave man\nand a good fighter. It was a fair fight, and you have won the battle.\nI don't want to quarrel with you any more. Will you shake hands and be\nfriends with me?\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" said the stranger. \"It is a long time since I\nhave met any one who could use a stick as you can.\"\n\nSo they shook hands like the best of friends, and quite forgot that a\nfew minutes before they had been banging and battering each other as\nhard as they could.\n\nThen Robin put his bugle-horn to his mouth, and blew a loud, loud\nblast.\n\n  \"The echoes of which through the valleys did ring,\n     At which his stout bowmen appeared,\n   And clothed in green, most gay to be seen,\n     So up to their master they steered.\"\n\nWhen the stranger saw all these fine men, dressed in green, and\ncarrying bows and arrows, come running to Robin he was very much\nastonished. \"O master dear, what has happened?\" cried Will Stutely,\nthe leader, as he ran up. \"You have a great cut in your forehead,\nand you are soaked through and through,\" he added, laying his hand on\nRobin's arm.\n\n\"It is nothing,\" laughed Robin. \"This young fellow and I have been\nhaving a fight. He cracked my crown and then tumbled me into the\nriver.\"\n\nWhen they heard that, Robin's men were very angry. \"If he has tumbled\nour master into the river, we will tumble him in,\" said they; \"we will\nsee how he likes that.\" And they seized him, and would have dragged\nhim to the water to drown him, but Robin called out, \"Stop, stop!\nit was a fair fight. He is a brave man, and we are very good friends\nnow.\"\n\nThen turning to the stranger, Robin bowed politely to him, saying, \"I\nbeg you to forgive my men. They will not harm you now they know that\nyou are my friend, for I am Robin Hood.\"\n\nThe stranger was very much astonished when he heard that he had\nactually been fighting with bold Robin Hood, of whom he had heard so\nmany tales.\n\n\"If you will come and live with me and my Merry Men,\" went on Robin,\n\"I will give you a suit of Lincoln green. I will teach you how to use\nbow and arrows as well as you use your good stick.\"\n\n\"I should like nothing better,\" replied the stranger. \"My name is John\nLittle, and I promise to serve you faithfully.\"\n\n\"John Little!\" said Will Stutely laughing. \"John Little! what a name\nfor a man that height! John Little! why he is seven feet tall if he is\nan inch!\"\n\nWill laughed and laughed, till the tears ran down his face. He thought\nit was such a funny name for so big a man.\n\nRobin laughed because Will laughed. Then John Little laughed because\nRobin laughed. Soon they were all laughing as hard as they could. The\nwind carried the sound of it away, till the folk in the villages round\nabout said, \"Hark! how Robin Hood and his Merry Men do laugh!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Robin at last, \"I have heard it said, 'Laugh and grow\nfat,' but if we don't get some dinner soon I think we will all grow\nvery lean. Come along, my little John, I'm sure you must be hungry\ntoo.\"\n\n\"Little John,\" said Will Stutely, \"that's the very name for him. We\nmust christen him again, and I will be his godfather.\"\n\nBack to their forest home they all went, laughing and talking as\nmerrily as possible, taking John Little along with them. Dinner\nwas waiting for them when they arrived. The head cook was looking\nanxiously through the trees, saying, \"I do wish Master Robin would\ncome, or the roast venison will be too much cooked and the rabbits\nwill be stewed to rags.\"\n\nJust at that moment they appeared. The cook was struck dumb at the\nsight of the giant, stalking along beside Robin. \"Where has master\ngotten that Maypole?\" he said, laughing to himself, as he ran away to\ndish the dinner.\n\nThey had a very merry dinner. Robin found that John was not only a\ngood fighter but that he had a wise head and a witty tongue. He was\nmore and more delighted with his new companion.\n\nBut Will and the others had not forgotten that he was to be christened\nagain. Seven of them came behind him, and in spite of all his kicking\nand struggling wrapped him up in a long, green cloak, pretending he\nwas a baby.\n\nIt was a very noisy christening. The men all shouted and laughed. John\nLittle laughed and screamed in turn, and kicked and struggled all the\ntime.\n\n\"Hush, baby, hush,\" they said. But the seven-foot baby wouldn't hush.\n\nThen Will stepped up beside him and began to speak.\n\n  \"This infant was called John Little, quoth he,\n    Which name shall be changed anon,\n  The words we'll transpose, so wherever he goes,\n    His name shall be called Little John.\"\n\nThey had some buckets of water ready. These they poured over poor\nLittle John till he was as wet as Robin had been after he fell into\nthe river. The men roared with laughter. Little John looked so funny\nas he rolled about on the grass, trying to get out of his long, wet,\ngreen robe. He looked just like a huge green caterpillar.\n\nRobin laughed as much as any one. At last he said, \"Now, Will, don't\nyou think that is enough?\"\n\n\"Not a bit,\" said Will. \"You wouldn't let us duck him in the river\nwhen we had him there so we have brought the river to him.\"\n\nAt last all the buckets were empty, and the christening was over. Then\nall the men stood round in a ring and gave three cheers for Little\nJohn, Robin's new man.\n\n  \"Then Robin he took the sweet pretty babe,\n     And clothed him from top to toe\n   In garments of green, most gay to be seen,\n     And gave him a curious longbow.\"\n\nAfter that they sang, danced and played the whole afternoon. Then when\nthe sun sank and the long, cool shadows fell across the grass they all\nsaid \"good night\" and went off into their caves to sleep.\n\nFrom that day Little John always lived with Robin. They became very,\nvery great friends and Little John was next to Robin in command of the\nmen.\n\n  \"And so ever after as long as he lived,\n     Although he was proper and tall,\n   Yet, nevertheless, the truth to express,\n     Still Little John they did him call.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER\n\n\nThe Sheriff of Nottingham hated Robin and would have been very glad if\nany one had killed him.\n\nThe Sheriff was a very unkind man. He treated the poor Saxons very\nbadly. He often took away all their money, and their houses and left\nthem to starve. Sometimes, for a very little fault, he would cut off\ntheir ears or fingers. The poor people used to go into the wood, and\nRobin would give them food and money. Sometimes they went home again,\nbut very often they stayed with him, and became his men.\n\nThe Sheriff knew this, so he hated Robin all the more, and he was\nnever so happy as when he had caught one of Robin's men and locked him\nup in prison.\n\nBut try how he might, he could not catch Robin. All the same Robin\nused to go to Nottingham very often, but he was always so well\ndisguised that the Sheriff never knew him. So he always escaped.\n\nThe Sheriff was too much afraid of him to go into the forest to try\nto take him. He knew his men were no match for Robin's. Robin's men\nserved him and fought for him because they loved him. The Sheriff's\nmen only served him because they feared him.\n\nOne day Robin was walking through the forest when he met a butcher.\n\nThis butcher was riding gaily along to the market at Nottingham. He\nwas dressed in a blue linen coat, with leather belt. On either side of\nhis strong gray pony hung a basket full of meat.\n\nIn these days as there were no trains, everything had to be sent by\nroad. The roads were so bad that even carts could not go along them\nvery much, for the wheels stuck in the mud. Everything was carried on\nhorseback, in sacks or baskets called panniers.\n\nThe butcher rode gaily along, whistling as he went. Suddenly Robin\nstepped from under the trees and stopped him.\n\n\"What have you there, my man?\" he asked.\n\n\"Butcher's meat,\" replied the man. \"Fine prime beef and mutton for\nNottingham market. Do you want to buy some?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do,\" said Robin. \"I'll buy it all and your pony too. How much\ndo you want for it? I should like to go to Nottingham and see what\nkind of a butcher I will make:\"\n\nSo the butcher sold his pony and all his meat to Robin. Then Robin\nchanged clothes with him. He put on the butcher's blue clothes and\nleather belt, and the butcher went off in Robin's suit of Lincoln\ngreen, feeling very grand indeed.\n\nThen Robin mounted his pony and off he went to Nottingham to sell his\nmeat at the market.\n\nWhen he arrived he found the whole town in a bustle. In those days\nthere were very few shops, so every one used to go to market to buy\nand sell. The country people brought butter and eggs and honey to\nsell. With the money they got they bought platters and mugs, pots and\npans, or whatever they wanted, and took it back to the country with\nthem.\n\nAll sorts of people came to buy: fine ladies and poor women, rich\nknights and gentlemen, and humble workers, every one pushing and\ncrowding together. Robin found it quite difficult to drive his pony\nthrough the crowd to the corner of the market-place where the butchers\nhad their stalls.\n\nHe got there at last, however, laid out his meat, and began to cry\nwith the best of them.\n\n\"Prime meat, ladies. Come and buy. Cheapest meat in all the market,\nladies. Come buy, come buy. Twopence a pound, ladies. Twopence a\npound. Come buy. Come buy.\"\n\n\"What!\" said every one, \"beef at twopence a pound! I never heard of\nsuch a thing. Why it is generally tenpence.\"\n\nYou see Robin knew nothing at all about selling meat, as he never\nbought any. He and his men used to live on what they shot in the\nforest.\n\nWhen it became known that there was a new butcher, who was selling\nhis meat for twopence a pound, every one came crowding round his stall\neager to buy. All the other butchers stood idle until Robin had no\nmore beef and mutton left to sell.\n\nAs these butchers had nothing to do, they began to talk among\nthemselves and say, \"Who is this man? He has never been here before.\"\n\n\"Do you think he has stolen the meat?\"\n\n\"Perhaps his father has just died and left him a business.\"\n\n\"Well, his money won't last long at this rate.\"\n\n\"The sooner he loses it all, the better for us. We will never be able\nto sell anything as long as he comes here giving away beef at twopence\na pound.\"\n\n\"It is perfectly ridiculous,\" said one old man, who seemed to be the\nchief butcher. \"These fifty years have I come and gone to Nottingham\nmarket, and I have never seen the like of it--never. He is ruining the\ntrade, that's what he is doing.\"\n\nThey stood at their stalls sulky and cross, while all their customers\ncrowded round Robin.\n\nShouts of laughter came from his corner, for he was not only selling\nbeef and mutton, but making jokes about it all the time.\n\n\"I tell you what,\" said the old butcher, \"it is no use standing here\ndoing nothing. We had better go and talk to him, and find out, if we\ncan, who he is. We must ask him to come and have dinner with us and\nthe Sheriff in the town hall to-day.\" For on market days the butchers\nused to have dinner all together in the town hall, after market was\nover, and the sheriff used to come and have dinner with them.\n\n  \"So, the butchers stepped up to jolly Robin,\n    Acquainted with him for to be;\n  Come, butcher, one said, we be all of one trade,\n    Come, will you go dine with me?\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Robin, \"I should like nothing better. I have had a\nbusy morning and am very hungry and thirsty.\"\n\n\"Come along, then,\" said the butchers.\n\nThe old man led the way with Robin, and the others followed two by\ntwo.\n\nAs they walked along, the old butcher began asking Robin questions, to\ntry and find out something about him.\n\n\"You have not been here before?\" he said.\n\n\"Have I not?\" replied Robin.\n\n\"I have not seen you, at least.\"\n\n\"Have you not?\"\n\n\"You are new to the business?\"\n\n\"Am I?\"\n\n\"Well, you seem to be,\" said the old butcher, getting rather cross.\n\n\"Do I?\" replied Robin, laughing.\n\nAt last they came to the town hall, and though they had talked all the\ntime the old butcher had got nothing out of Robin, and was not a bit\nthe wiser.\n\nThe Sheriff's house was close to the town hall, so as dinner was\nnot quite ready all the butchers went to say \"How do you do?\" to the\nSheriff's wife.\n\nShe received them very kindly, and was quite interested in Robin\nwhen she heard that he was the new butcher who had been selling such\nwonderfully cheap meat. Robin had such pleasant manners too, that she\nthought he was a very nice man indeed. She was quite sorry when the\nSheriff came and took him away, saying dinner was ready.\n\n\"I hope to see you again, kind sir,\" she said when saying good-by.\n\"Come to see me next time you have meat to sell.\"\n\n\"Thank you, lady, I will not forget your kindness,\" replied Robin,\nbowing low.\n\nAt dinner the Sheriff sat at one end of the table and the old butcher\nat the other. Robin, as the greatest stranger, had the place of honor\non the Sheriff's right hand.\n\nAt first the dinner was very dull. All the butchers were sulky and\ncross, only Robin was merry. He could not help laughing to himself at\nthe idea of dining with his great enemy the Sheriff of Nottingham.\nAnd not only dining with him, but sitting on his right hand, and being\ntreated as an honored guest.\n\nIf the Sheriff had only known, poor Robin would very soon have been\nlocked up in a dark dungeon, eating dry bread instead of apple-pie and\ncustard and all the fine things they were having for dinner.\n\nHowever, Robin was so merry, that very soon the butchers forgot to be\ncross and sulky. Before the end of dinner all were laughing till their\nsides ached.\n\nOnly the Sheriff was grave and thinking hard. He was a greedy old man,\nand he was saying to himself, \"This silly young fellow evidently does\nnot know the value of things. If he has any cattle I might buy them\nfrom him for very little. I could sell them again to the butchers for\na good price. In that way I should make a lot of money.\"\n\nAfter dinner he took Robin by the arm and led him aside.\n\n\"See here, young man,\" he said, \"I like your looks. But you seem new\nto this business. Now, don't you trust these men,\" pointing to the\nbutchers. \"They are all as ready as can be to cheat you. You take my\nadvice. If you have any cattle to sell, come to me. I'll give you a\ngood price.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Robin, \"it is most kind of you.\"\n\n  \"Hast thou any horned beasts, the Sheriff then said,\n     Good fellow, to sell to me?\n   Yes, that I have, good master Sheriff,\n     I have hundreds two or three.\n\n  \"And a hundred acres of good free land,\n     If you please it for to see;\n  And I'll make you as good assurance of it,\n     As ever my father did me.\"\n\nThe Sheriff nearly danced for joy when he heard that Robin had so many\nhorned cattle for sale. He had quite made up his mind that it would be\nvery easy to cheat this silly young fellow. Already he began to count\nthe money he would make. He was such a greedy old man. But there was a\nwicked twinkle in Robin's eye.\n\n\"Now, young man, when can I see these horned beasts of yours?\" asked\nthe Sheriff. \"I can't buy a pig in a poke, you know. I must see them\nfirst. And the land too, and the land too,\" he added, rubbing his\nhands, and jumping about in excitement.\n\n\"The sooner the better,\" said Robin. \"I start for home to-morrow\nmorning. If you like to ride with me I will show you the horned beasts\nand the land too.\"\n\n\"Capital, capital,\" said the Sheriff. \"To-morrow morning then, after\nbreakfast, I go with you. And see here, young man,\" he added, catching\nhold of Robin's coat-tails as he was going away, \"you won't go and\nsell to any one else in the meantime? It is a bargain, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Oh, certainly. I won't even speak of it to any one,\" replied Robin;\nand he went away, laughing heartily to himself.\n\nThat night the Sheriff went into his counting-house and counted out\nthree hundred pounds in gold. He tied it up in three bags, one hundred\npounds in each bag.\n\n\"It's a lot of money,\" he said to himself, \"a lot of money. Still, I\nsuppose, I must pay him something for his cattle. But it is a lot of\nmoney to part with,\" and he heaved a big sigh.\n\nHe put the gold underneath his pillow in case any one should steal it\nduring the night. Then he went to bed and tried to sleep. But he was\ntoo excited; besides the gold under his pillow made it so hard and\nknobby that it was most uncomfortable.\n\nAt last the night passed, and in the morning.\n\n  \"The Sheriff he saddled his good palfrey,\n     And with three hundred pounds in gold\n   Away he went with bold Robin Hood,\n     His horned beasts to behold.\"\n\nThe sun shone and the birds sang as they merrily rode along. When\nthe Sheriff saw that they were taking the road to Sherwood Forest, he\nbegan to feel a little nervous.\n\n\"There is a bold, bad man in these woods,\" he said. \"He is called\nRobin Hood. He robs people, he--do you think we will meet him?\"\n\n\"I am quite sure we won't meet him,\" replied Robin with a laugh.\n\n\"Well, I hope not, I am sure,\" said the Sheriff. \"I never dare to ride\nthrough the forest unless I have my soldiers with me. He is a bold,\nbad man.\"\n\nRobin only laughed, and they rode on right into the forest.\n\n  \"But when a little farther they came,\n     Bold Robin he chanced to spy\n   An hundred head of good fat deer\n     Come tripping the Sheriff full nigh.\"\n\n\"Look there,\" he cried, \"look! What do you think of my horned beasts?\"\n\n\"I think,\" said the Sheriff, in a trembling voice, \"I think I should\nlike to go back to Nottingham.\"\n\n\"What! and not buy any horned cattle? What is the matter with them?\nAre they not fine and fat? Are they not a beautiful color? Come, come,\nSheriff, when you have brought the money for them too.\"\n\nAt the mention of money the Sheriff turned quite pale and clutched\nhold of his bags. \"Young man,\" he said, \"I don't like you at all. I\ntell you I want to go back to Nottingham. This isn't money I have in\nmy bags, it is only pebble-stones.\"\n\n  \"Then Robin put his horn to his mouth,\n     And blew out blasts three;\n   Then quickly and anon there came Little John,\n     And all his company.\"\n\n\"Good morning, Little John,\" said Robin.\n\n\"Good morning, Master Robin,\" he replied. \"What orders have you for\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Well, in the first place I hope you have something nice for dinner,\nbecause I have brought the Sheriff of Nottingham to dine with us,\"\nanswered Robin.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Little John, \"the cooks are busy already as we thought you\nmight bring some one back with you. But we hardly expected so fine\na guest as the Sheriff of Nottingham,\" he added, making a low bow to\nhim. \"I hope he intends to pay honestly.\"\n\nFor that was Robin Hood's way. He always gave a very fine dinner to\nthese naughty men who had stolen money from poor people, and then he\nmade them pay a great deal of money for it.\n\nThe Sheriff was very much afraid when he knew that he had really\nfallen into the hands of Robin Hood. He was angry too when he thought\nthat he had actually had Robin in his own house the day before, and\ncould so easily have caught and put him in prison, if he had only\nknown.\n\nThey had a very fine dinner, and the Sheriff began to feel quite\ncomfortable and to think he was going to get off easily, when Robin\nsaid, \"Now, Master Sheriff, you must pay for your dinner.\"\n\n\"Oh! indeed I am a poor man,\" said the Sheriff, \"I have no money.\"\n\n\"No money! What have you in your saddle-bags, then?\" asked Robin.\n\n\"Only pebbles, nothing but pebbles, as I told you before,\" replied the\nfrightened Sheriff.\n\n\"Little John, go and search the Sheriff's saddle-bags,\" said Robin.\n\nLittle John did as he was told, and counted out three hundred pounds\nupon the ground.\n\n\"Sheriff,\" said Robin sternly, \"I shall keep all this money and divide\nit among my men. It is not half as much as you have stolen from them.\nIf you had told me the truth about it, I might have given you some\nback. But I always punish people who tell lies. You have done so many\nevil deeds,\" he went on, \"that you deserve to be hanged.\"\n\nThe poor Sheriff shook in his shoes.\n\n\"Hanged you should be,\" continued Robin, \"but your good wife was kind\nto me yesterday. For her sake, I let you go. But if you are not kinder\nto my people I will not let you off so easily another time.\" And Robin\ncalled for the Sheriff's pony.\n\n  \"Then Robin he brought him through the wood,\n    And set him on his dapple gray:\n  Oh, have me commended to your wife at home,\n    So Robin went laughing away.\"\n\n\n\n\nGUY OF WARWICK\n\nADAPTED BY H.E. MARSHALL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nGUY'S EARLY ADVENTURES AND HIS FIGHT WITH THE DUN COW\n\n\nLong ago England was divided into several kingdoms, each having a\nking. In a great battle the King of Northumbria was defeated and one\nof his lords, Gordian, lost all he owned. He and his wife Brunhilda\njourneyed forth to seek a new home and at last reached Warwick, where\nGordian was made the steward of Lord Rohand.\n\nNot long after Brunhilda and Gordian went to live in Warwick, their\nlittle son Guy was born. As he grew older he became a great favorite\nand was often invited to the castle.\n\nLord Rohand heard of Guy and asked him to a great dinner at Warwick\nCastle and afterwards to join in a tournament. To Guy was given a seat\nquite near the earl and opposite his lovely daughter Phyllis. She was\nthe most beautiful lady in the kingdom and Guy longed to show her how\nwell he could fight. Never did Guy fight so well; he conquered every\none of the knights, and won the prize. Phyllis crowned him with roses\nand put the chain of gold around his neck.\n\nAfter this Phyllis and Guy were much together and at last Guy said\nsuddenly, \"Phyllis, I love thee. I cannot help it.\" In great anger she\nsent him away. Guy grew very sad and Phyllis very lonely and at length\nshe sent for Guy and said, \"Go away and make thyself famous, then will\nI marry thee.\"\n\nGuy rode gaily away and sailed over to Germany. There he heard of\na great tournament. Whoever fought best was to marry the Emperor's\ndaughter Blanche, which means white. Besides marrying the Princess,\nthe bravest knight was to receive a pure white horse, two white\nhounds, and a white falcon. So it was called the White Tournament.\n\nWhen Guy told the herald that he was the son of Lord Gordian he was\nadmitted. All the lords and ladies looked at him scornfully because he\nwore plain black armor with nothing painted upon his shield. As he had\nnot worn spurs, he was not yet a knight. Guy entered the lists and\nmet and conquered Prince Philaner, the Emperor's son, Duke Otto, Duke\nRanier, and Duke Louvain.\n\nGuy took the prize offered with the exception of the hand of Blanche.\n\"For my fair Phyllis alone I keep my love,\" he said.\n\nGuy went back to England and heard that a terrible dun-colored cow had\nappeared in Warwickshire. It was twelve feet high and eighteen feet\nlong. Its horns were thicker than an elephant's tusks curled and\ntwisted. The King said that whoever would kill the Dun Cow should be\nmade a knight and receive a great deal of land and money. Guy went out\nto meet him and after a fearful encounter was able to deal a deathblow\nwith his battle-axe behind the beast's ear.\n\nThen the King gave the new knight a pair of golden spurs, and Lady\nPhyllis fastened them on. In memory of Guy's deed one rib of the Dun\nCow was hung up at the gate of Coventry and another in the Castle of\nWarwick.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTRAVELS AND DEEDS IN MANY LANDS\n\n\nGuy next went to France, where he was wounded at a tournament. His\nenemy, Duke Otto, bribed fifteen villains to lie in wait, take him and\ncast him into prison. With the help of his friend Heraud, Guy was able\nto slay them all, but one of the traitor men smote Heraud so hard that\nhe fell to the ground as if dead.\n\nOne day news was brought to Guy that Ledgwin of Louvain was shut up\nin his city of Arrascoun sore beset by the Emperor. Gathering his\nsoldiers and knights together he set out to help his friend and was\noverjoyed to find Heraud in the guise of a pilgrim sitting by the\nroadside. Heraud had been nursed back to health by a kind hermit. At\nonce he put on armor and rode forth with Guy to the city of Arrascoun\nto release Ledgwin. There was a great battle but the Almains who\nsurrounded the city were defeated and the Emperor yielded and forgave\nLedgwin.\n\nWhile in Greece, Guy went out hunting and came upon a most wonderful\nsight, a conflict between a lion and a dragon. Just when the dragon\nwas about to crush the lion Guy drew his sword, and setting spurs\nto his horse, sprang upon the dragon. The fight was then between\nthe dragon and Guy. It seemed at first that the dragon would be the\nvictor, but, like a flash, Guy leaped from his horse and plunged his\nsword deep into the brute's side. For a moment his speckled crest\nquivered, then all was still.\n\nGuy thought he would have to kill the lion too, but as it came near\nit licked Guy's feet and fawned upon him, purring softly like a great\npussy-cat. When Guy rode back the lion trotted after him and lived\nwith him every day.\n\nGuy had an enemy at court, Morgadour, who hated the brave knight and\nsaid, \"I cannot kill thee, Guy of Warwick, but I will grieve thee. I\nwill kill thy lion.\" This he did in secret. The King was angry when\nthe deed was discovered and told Guy to meet him in combat, which he\ndid, and slew Morgadour.\n\nLaden with riches, Guy reached home again, this time to marry the\nbeautiful Phyllis. There was a great and splendid wedding. For fifteen\ndays the feasting and merriment lasted.\n\nFor some time Guy and Phyllis lived happily together. Then one sad day\nEarl Rohand died and Guy became Earl of Warwick.\n\nAs the new earl was one day thinking of his past life, it seemed to\nhim that he had caused much bloodshed. Thereupon he decided to go to\nthe Holy Land, and there, at the Sepulcher of our Lord, do penance for\nhis sins. Phyllis begged him to stay; but Guy said, \"I must go.\" So,\ndressed in pilgrim robes, with staff in hand he set out on his long\njourney.\n\nOne day as he walked he came upon an old man who was sad because the\ngiant Ameraunt was keeping his daughter and fifteen sons in a strong\ncastle. \"I am Earl Jonas of Durras,\" he said, \"and I seek Guy of\nWarwick to help me.\"\n\nGuy said if the earl would give him meat and drink, weapons and armor,\nhe would see what he could do.\n\nA splendid coat of mail was brought with shield and sword. Guy called\nto the giant to come forth. \"That will I,\" replied the giant, \"and\nmake short work with thee.\"\n\nAmeraunt stalked forth and the fight began. All day it lasted before\nGuy with his sword cut the giant's head off.\n\nTaking the keys of the castle, which lay on the ground, he immediately\nreleased Earl of Jonas's children and other noble knights and brave\nladies.\n\nPutting off his armor, he dressed himself once more in his pilgrim's\nrobe, and with his staff in his hand set out again upon his journey.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW GUY FOUGHT WITH THE GIANT COLBRAND\n\n\nFor some time after Guy went away Phyllis was very sorrowful. She wept\nand mourned, and was so sad that she longed to die. At times she even\nthought of killing herself. She would draw out Guy's great sword,\nwhich he had left behind, and think how easy it would be to run\nit through her heart. But she remembered that the good fairies had\npromised to send her a little son, and so she made up her mind to live\nuntil he came. When the good fairies brought the baby she called\nhim Reinbroun, and he was so pretty and so dear that Phyllis was\ncomforted.\n\nThen, because her lord was far away, and could not attend to his great\nlands nor to the ruling of his many servants, Phyllis did so for\nhim. She ruled and ordered her household well; she made new roads and\nrebuilt bridges which had been broken down. She journeyed through all\nthe land, seeing that wrong was made right and evildoers punished.\nShe fed the poor, tended the sick, and comforted those in sorrow, and,\nbesides all this, she built great churches and abbeys.\n\nSo year after year passed, but still Guy did not return. All day\nPhyllis was busy and had no time for grief, but when evening came she\nwould go to pace up and down the path (which to this day is called\n\"Fair Phyllis's Walk\") where she and Guy had often walked together.\nNow as she wandered there alone, the hot, slow tears would come, and\nshe would feel miserable and forsaken.\n\nAt last, after many years full of adventures and travel, Guy reached\nEngland once more. He was now an old man. His beard was long, his\nhair had grown white, and in the weather-beaten pilgrim none could\nrecognize the gallant knight and earl, Guy of Warwick.\n\nWhen Guy landed in England he found the whole country in sore dread.\nFor Anlaf, King of Denmark, had invaded England with a great army.\nWith fire and sword he had wasted the land, sparing neither tower nor\ntown, man, woman, nor child, but destroying all that came in his path.\nFight how they might, the English could not drive out the Danes.\n\nNow they were in deep despair, for the enemy lay before the King's\ncity of Winchester. With them was a terrible giant called Colbrand,\nand Anlaf had sent a message to King Athelstane, as the King who now\nreigned over all England was called, demanding that he should either\nfind a champion to fight with Colbrand or deliver over his kingdom.\n\nSo the King had sent messengers north, south, east, and west, but in\nall the land no knight could be found who was brave enough to face the\nawful giant. And now within the great church of Winchester the King\nwith his priests and people knelt, praying God to send a champion.\n\n\"Where, then, is Heraud?\" asked Guy of the man who told this tale.\n\"Where is Heraud, who never yet forsook man in need?\"\n\n\"Alas! he has gone far beyond the seas,\" replied the man, \"and so has\nGuy of Warwick. We know not where they are.\"\n\nThen Guy took his staff and turned his steps toward Winchester. Coming\nthere, he found the King sitting among his wise men. \"I bid you,\" he\nwas saying to them, \"give me some counsel how I may defend my country\nagainst the Danes. Is there any knight among you who will fight this\ngiant? Half my kingdom he shall have, and that gladly, if he conquer.\"\n\nBut all the wise men, knights and nobles, stood silent and looked upon\nthe ground.\n\n\"Oh, we is me!\" then cried the King, \"that I rule over such cowards.\nTo what have my English come that I may not find one knight among\nthem bold enough to do battle for his King and country? Oh that Guy of\nWarwick were here!\"\n\nThen through the bright crowd of steel-clad nobles there came a tall\nold man, dressed in a worn, dark, pilgrim's robe, with bare feet and\nhead, and a staff in his hand.\n\n\"My Lord King,\" he said, \"I will fight for thee.\"\n\n\"Thou,\" said the King in astonishment, \"thou seemest more fit to pray\nthan to fight for us.\"\n\n\"Believe me, my Lord King,\" said Guy, for of course it was he, \"this\nhand has often held a sword, and never yet have I been worsted in\nfight.\"\n\n\"Then since there is none other,\" said the King, \"fight, and God\nstrengthen thee.\"\n\nNow Guy was very tall, and no armor could be found anywhere to fit\nhim. \"Send to the Countess of Warwick,\" said Guy at last. \"Ask her to\nlend the earl's weapons and armor for the saving of England.\"\n\n\"That is well thought of,\" said the King.\n\nSo a swift messenger was sent to Warwick Castle, and he presently\nreturned with Guy's armor. He at once put it on, and the people\nmarveled that it should fit him so well, for none knew, or guessed,\nthat the pilgrim was Guy himself.\n\nGuy went then out to meet the giant, and all the people crowded to the\nwalls of Winchester to watch their champion fight.\n\nColbrand came forth. He was so huge that no horse could carry him,\nand he wore a whole wagon-load of weapons. His armor was pitch-black\nexcept his shield, which was blood-red and had a white owl painted\nupon it. He was a fearsome sight to look upon, and as he strode along\nshaking his spear every one trembled for Guy.\n\nIt was a terrible and unequal fight. Tall though Guy was, he could\nreach no higher than the giant's shoulder with his spear, but yet he\nwounded him again and again.\n\n\"I have never fought with any like thee,\" cried Colbrand. \"Yield,\nand I will ask King Anlaf to make thee a general in the Danish army.\nCastle and tower shalt thou have, and everything that thou canst\ndesire, if thou but do as I counsel thee.\"\n\n\"Better death than that,\" replied Guy, and still fought on. At last,\ntaking his battle-axe in both hands, he gave Colbrand such a blow that\nhis sword dropped to the ground. As the giant reeled under the stroke,\nGuy raised his battle-axe once more.\n\n  \"His good axe he reared on high\n  With both hands full mightily;\n  He smote him in the neck so well,\n  That the head flew that very deal.\n  The giant dead on the earth lay;\n  The Danes made great sorrow that day.\"\n\nSeeing their champion fall, the Danes fled to their ships. England was\nsaved.\n\nThen out of the city came all the people with the priests and King in\ngreat procession, and singing hymns of praise as they went, they led\nGuy back.\n\nThe King brought Guy to his palace and offered him splendid robes and\ngreat rewards, even to the half of the kingdom. But Guy would have\nnone of them. \"Give me my pilgrim's dress again,\" he said. And, in\nspite of all the King could say, he put off his fine armor and dressed\nhimself again in his dark pilgrim's robe.\n\n\"Tell me at least thy name,\" said the King, \"so that the minstrels\nmay sing of thy great deeds, and that in years to come the people may\nremember and bless thee.\"\n\n\"Bless God, not me,\" replied Guy. \"He it was gave me strength and\npower against the giant.\"\n\n\"Then if thou wilt not that the people know,\" said the King, \"tell thy\nname to me alone.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" said Guy. \"Walk with me half a mile out of the city, thou\nand I alone. Then will I tell thee my name.\"\n\nSo the King in his royal robes, and the pilgrim in his dull, dark\ngown, passed together out of the city gate. When they had gone half a\nmile, Guy stood still. \"Sire,\" he said, \"thou wouldst know my name. I\nam Guy of Warwick, thine own knight. Once thou didst love me well, now\nI am as thou dost see me.\"\n\nAt first the King could hardly believe that this poor man was really\nthe great Earl of Warwick, but when he became sure of it he threw his\narms round Guy and kissed him. \"Dear friend, we have long mourned for\nthee as dead,\" he cried. \"Now thou wilt come with me and help me to\nrule, and I will honor thee above all men.\"\n\nBut Guy would not go back. He made the King promise to tell no man who\nhe was. This he did for the sake of the oath which he had sworn, that\nhe would never again fight for glory but only for a righteous cause.\nThen once more they kissed, and each turned his own way, the King\ngoing sadly back to Winchester.\n\nAs he entered the gates the people crowded round him, eager to know\nwho the pilgrim was. But King Athelstane held up his hand. \"Peace,\" he\nsaid, \"I indeed know, but I may not tell you. Go to your homes, thank\nGod for your deliverance, and pray for him who overcame the giant.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHOW AT LAST GUY WENT HOME\n\n\nAfter Guy left the King, he journeyed on towards Warwick. And when he\ncame to the town over which he was lord and master no one knew him. So\nhe mixed with the poor men who came every morning to the castle gates\nto receive food from the countess.\n\nGuy listened to what those round him said. He heard them praise and\nbless Phyllis, calling her the best woman that had ever lived, and his\nheart was glad.\n\nPale and trembling, Guy bent before his wife, to receive food from her\nhands. He was so changed that even she did not know him, but she felt\nvery sorry for the poor man who seemed so thin and worn, so she spoke\nkindly to him and gave him more food than the others, and told him to\ncome every day as long as he lived.\n\nGuy thanked her, and turned slowly away. He remembered that a hermit\nlived in a cave not far off, and to him he went. But when he reached\nthe cave he found it empty. The hermit had been dead many years.\n\nGuy then made up his mind to live in the cave. Every morning he went\nto the castle to receive food from Phyllis. But he would only take\nthe simplest things, often eating nothing but bread and drinking water\nfrom the spring which flowed near.\n\nEvery evening Guy could hear Phyllis as she paced to and fro, for\nher walk was not far from the hermit's cave. But still some strange\nenchantment, as it were, held him dumb, and although he still loved\nher, although he knew that she sorrowed and longed for him to return\nhome, he could not say, \"I am here.\"\n\nAt last one day Guy became very ill. He had no longer strength to go\nto the castle, so calling a passing countryman to him, he gave him a\nring. It was the ring which Phyllis had given him, and which he had\nkept ever with him through all his pilgrimage. \"Take this,\" he said\nto the countryman, \"and carry it to Fair Phyllis, the Countess of\nWarwick.\"\n\nBut the countryman was afraid. \"I have never spoken to a great lady,\nand I do not know how to address her,\" he said. \"Besides she may be\nangry with me, and I shall get into trouble if I carry a ring to the\nearl's wife.\"\n\n\"Do not fear,\" said Guy, \"the countess will not be angry; rather will\nshe reward thee. Tell her to come hastily or I die.\"\n\nSo the countryman took the ring, and, coming to the countess fell upon\nhis knees. \"Lady,\" he said, \"a pilgrim who lives yonder in the forest\nsends thee this ring.\"\n\nPhyllis took the ring, and, as she looked at it, a strange light\ncame into her eyes. Like one in a dream she passed her hand over\nher forehead. \"It is mine own lord, Sir Guy,\" she cried, and fell\nsenseless to the ground.\n\nThe countryman was much frightened, but her ladies ran to the countess\nand raised her, and soon she opened her eyes.\n\n\"Friend,\" she said to the countryman, \"tell me where is he who gave\nthee this ring?\"\n\n\"He is in the hermit's cave,\" replied the man, \"and he bade me to say\nthat thou must hasten ere he die.\"\n\nRight glad was Phyllis at the thought of seeing Guy again, yet\nsorrowful lest she should find him dead. So, calling for her mule,\nshe mounted and rode speedily towards the cave, the countryman running\nbefore to show the way.\n\nAnd when they came to the cave Phyllis went in, and kneeling beside\nGuy, put her arms round him, crying bitterly. \"Dear,\" he said, \"weep\nnot, for I go where sorrows end.\" Then\n\n  \"He kissed her fair and courteously,\n  With that he died hastily.\"\n\nThere was sorrow through all the land when it was known that Guy, the\ngreat hero, was dead. He was buried with much pomp and ceremony, the\nKing and Queen, and all the greatest nobles of the land, coming to\nthe funeral. And Phyllis, not caring to live longer, now that she knew\nthat Guy was indeed dead, died too, and they were both buried in the\nsame grave.\n\nThen minstrels sang of Guy's valiant deeds, and of how he had slain\ngiants and dragons, and of how he might have been an emperor and\na king over many lands, and how he was ever a gentle and courteous\nknight.\n\n  \"Thus endeth the tale of Sir Guy:\n     God, on his soul have mercy,\n  And on ours when we be dead,\n     And grant us in heaven to have stead.\"\n\nIf you ever go to Warwick you will see, in the castle there, Guy's\nsword and armor. Wise people will tell you that they never belonged\nto Guy, but to some other men who lived much later. Well, perhaps they\nare right.\n\nThen, when you are at Warwick, you must go to Guy's Cliff, which is\nabout a mile and a half away. There, in the chapel, is a statue of\nGuy, very old and broken.\n\nYou will also see there Fair Phyllis's Walk, the spring from which Guy\nused to drink, still called Guy's Well, and the cave where he lived as\na hermit, and where he died.\n\nUpon the walls of the cave is some writing. You will not be able to\nread it, for it is Saxon, but it means, \"Cast out, Thou Christ, from\nThy servant this burden.\"\n\nDid Guy, I wonder, or some other, in days of loneliness and despair,\ncarve these words?\n\nIf you ask why Guy did these things--why, when he was happy and had\neverything he could desire, he threw away that happiness, and wandered\nout into the world to endure hunger, and weariness, and suffering--or\nwhy, when at last he came back and found his beautiful wife waiting\nand longing for his return, he did not go to her and be happy again,\nI cannot tell you certainly. But perhaps it may be explained in this\nway. In those far-off days there was nothing for great men to do but\nfight. What they had they had won by the sword, and they kept it\nby the sword. So they went swaggering over the world, fighting and\nshedding blood, and the more men a knight killed, the more blood he\nshed, the greater was his fame. It was impossible for a man to live in\nthe world and be at peace with his fellows. So when he desired peace\nhe had to cut himself off from the world and all who lived in it, and\ngo to live like a hermit in some lonely cave, or wander as a pilgrim\nin desolate places. And so it was with Guy.\n\n\n\n\nWHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT\n\nADAPTED BY ERNEST RHYS\n\n\nIn the reign of the famous King Edward III. there was a little boy\ncalled Dick Whittington, whose father and mother died when he was very\nyoung, so that he remembered nothing at all about them, and was left\na ragged little fellow, running about a country village. As poor Dick\nwas not old enough to work, he was very badly off; he got but little\nfor his dinner, and sometimes nothing at all for his breakfast; for\nthe people who lived in the village were very poor indeed, and could\nnot spare him much more than the parings of potatoes, and now and then\na hard crust of bread.\n\nFor all this Dick Whittington was a very sharp boy, and was always\nlistening to what everybody talked about. On Sunday he was sure to\nget near the farmers, as they sat talking on the tombstones in the\nchurchyard, before the parson came; and once a week you might see\nlittle Dick leaning against the sign-post of the village alehouse,\nwhere people stopped to drink as they came from the next market town;\nand when the barber's shop door was open, Dick listened to all the\nnews that his customers told one another.\n\nIn this manner Dick heard a great many very strange things about the\ngreat city called London; for the foolish country people at that time\nthought that folks in London were all fine gentlemen and ladies; and\nthat there was singing and music there all day long; and that the\nstreets were all paved with gold.\n\nOne day a large wagon and eight horses, all with bells at their heads,\ndrove through the village while Dick was standing by the sign-post. He\nthought that this wagon must be going to the fine town of London; so\nhe took courage, and asked the wagoner to let him walk with him by the\nside of the wagon. As soon as the wagoner heard that poor Dick had no\nfather or mother, and saw by his ragged clothes that he could not be\nworse off than he was, he told him he might go if he would, so they\nset off together.\n\nI could never find out how little Dick contrived to get meat and drink\non the road; nor how he could walk so far, for it was a long way; nor\nwhat he did at night for a place to lie down to sleep in. Perhaps some\ngood-natured people in the towns that he passed through, when they\nsaw he was a poor little ragged boy, gave him something to eat; and\nperhaps the wagoner let him get into the wagon at night, and take a\nnap upon one of the boxes or large parcels in the wagon.\n\nDick, however, got safe to London, and was in such a hurry to see the\nfine streets paved all over with gold, that I am afraid he did not\neven stay to thank the kind wagoner; but ran off as fast as his legs\nwould carry him, through many of the streets, thinking every moment\nto come to those that were paved with gold; for Dick had seen a guinea\nthree times in his own little village, and remembered what a deal of\nmoney it brought in change; so he thought he had nothing to do but to\ntake up some little bits of the pavement, and should then have as much\nmoney as he could wish for.\n\nPoor Dick ran till he was tired, and had quite forgot his friend the\nwagoner; but at last, finding it grow dark, and that every way he\nturned he saw nothing but dirt instead of gold, he sat down in a dark\ncorner and cried himself to sleep.\n\nLittle Dick was all night in the streets; and next morning, being very\nhungry, he got up and walked about, and asked everybody he met to give\nhim a halfpenny to keep him from starving; but nobody stayed to answer\nhim, and only two or three gave him a halfpenny; so that the poor boy\nwas soon quite weak and faint for the want of victuals.\n\nAt last a good-natured looking gentleman saw how hungry he looked.\n\"Why don't you go to work, my lad?\" said he to Dick. \"That I would,\nbut I do not know how to get any,\" answered Dick. \"If you are willing,\ncome along with me,\" said the gentleman, and took him to a hay-field,\nwhere Dick worked briskly, and lived merrily till the hay was made.\n\nAfter this he found himself as badly off as before; and being almost\nstarved again, he laid himself down at the door of Mr. Fitzwarren,\na rich merchant. Here he was soon seen by the cook, who was an\nill-tempered creature, and happened just then to be very busy\npreparing dinner for her master and mistress; so she called out to\npoor Dick: \"What business have you there, you lazy rogue? there is\nnothing else but beggars; if you do not take yourself away, we will\nsee how you will like a sousing of some dish-water; I have some here\nhot enough to make you jump.\"\n\nJust at that time Mr. Fitzwarren himself came home to dinner; and when\nhe saw a dirty ragged boy lying at the door, he said to him: \"Why do\nyou lie there, my boy? You seem old enough to work; I am afraid you\nare inclined to be lazy.\"\n\n\"No, indeed, sir,\" said Dick to him, \"that is not the case, for I\nwould work with all my heart, but I do not know anybody, and I believe\nI am very sick for the want of food.\"\n\n\"Poor fellow, get up; let me see what ails you.\"\n\nDick now tried to rise, but was obliged to lie down again, being too\nweak to stand, for he had not eaten any food for three days, and\nwas no longer able to run about and beg a halfpenny of people in the\nstreet. So the kind merchant ordered him to be taken into the house,\nand have a good dinner given him, and be kept to do what dirty work he\nwas able to do for the cook.\n\nLittle Dick would have lived very happy in this good family if it had\nnot been for the ill-natured cook, who was finding fault and scolding\nhim from morning to night, and besides, she was so fond of basting,\nthat when she had no meat to baste, she would baste poor Dick's head\nand shoulders with a broom, or anything else that happened to fall\nin her way. At last her ill-usage of him was told to Alice, Mr.\nFitzwarren's daughter, who told the cook she should be turned away if\nshe did not treat him kinder.\n\nThe ill-humor of the cook was now a little amended; but besides this\nDick had another hardship to get over. His bed stood in a garret,\nwhere there were so many holes in the floor and the walls that every\nnight he was tormented with rats and mice. A gentleman having given\nDick a penny for cleaning his shoes, he thought he would buy a cat\nwith it. The next day he saw a girl with a cat, and asked her if she\nwould let him have it for a penny. The girl said she would, and at the\nsame time told him the cat was an excellent mouser.\n\nDick hid his cat in the garret, and always took care to carry a part\nof his dinner to her; and in a short time he had no more trouble with\nthe rats and mice, but slept quite sound every night.\n\nSoon after this, his master had a ship ready to sail; and as he\nthought it right that all his servants should have some chance for\ngood fortune as well as himself, he called them all into the parlor\nand asked them what they would send out.\n\nThey all had something that they were willing to venture except\npoor Dick, who had neither money nor goods, and therefore could send\nnothing.\n\nFor this reason he did not come into the parlor with the rest; but\nMiss Alice guessed what was the matter, and ordered him to be called\nin. She then said she would lay down some money for him, from her\nown purse; but the father told her this would not do, for it must be\nsomething of his own.\n\nWhen poor Dick heard this, he said he had nothing but a cat which he\nbought for a penny some time since of a little girl.\n\n\"Fetch your cat then, my good boy,\" said Mr. Fitzwarren, \"and let her\ngo.\"\n\nDick went upstairs and brought down poor puss, with tears in his eyes,\nand gave her to the captain; for he said he should now be kept awake\nagain all night by the rats and mice.\n\nAll the company laughed at Dick's odd venture; and Miss Alice, who\nfelt pity for the poor boy, gave him some money to buy another cat.\n\nThis, and many other marks of kindness shown him by Miss Alice made\nthe ill-tempered cook jealous of poor Dick, and she began to use him\nmore cruelly than ever, and always made game of him for sending his\ncat to sea. She asked him if he thought his cat would sell for as much\nmoney as would buy a stick to beat him.\n\nAt last poor Dick could not bear this usage any longer, and he thought\nhe would run away from his place; so he packed up his few things, and\nstarted very early in the morning, on All-hallow's, which is the first\nof November. He walked as far as Holloway; and there sat down on a\nstone, which to this day is called Whittington's stone, and began to\nthink to himself which road he should take as he went onwards.\n\nWhile he was thinking what he should do, the bells of Bow Church,\nwhich at that time had only six, began to ring, and he fancied their\nsound seemed to say to him:\n\n  \"Turn again, Whittington,\n   Lord Mayor of London.\"\n\n\"Lord Mayor of London!\" said he to himself. \"Why, to be sure, I would\nput up with almost anything now, to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride\nin a fine coach, when I grow to be a man! Well, I will go back, and\nthink nothing of the cuffing and scolding of the old cook, if I am to\nbe Lord Mayor of London at last.\"\n\nDick went back, and was lucky enough to get into the house, and set\nabout his work, before the old cook came downstairs.\n\nThe ship, with the cat on board, was a long time at sea; and was at\nlast driven by the winds on a part of the coast of Barbary, where the\nonly people were the Moors, that the English had never known before.\n\nThe people then came in great numbers to see the sailors, who were\nof different color to themselves, and treated them very civilly; and,\nwhen they became better acquainted, were very eager to buy the fine\nthings that the ship was loaded with.\n\nWhen the captain saw this, he sent patterns of the best things he had\nto the King of the country; who was so much pleased with them, that\nhe sent for the captain to the palace. Here they were placed, as it is\nthe custom of the country, on rich carpets marked with gold and silver\nflowers. The King and Queen were seated at the upper end of the room;\nand a number of dishes were brought in for dinner. They had not\nsat long, when a vast number of rats and mice rushed in, helping\nthemselves from almost every dish. The captain wondered at this, and\nasked if these vermin were not very unpleasant.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said they, \"very destructive; and the King would give\nhalf his treasure to be freed of them, for they not only destroy his\ndinner, as you see, but they assault him in his chamber and even in\nbed, so that he is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping for fear\nof them.\"\n\nThe captain jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his\ncat, and told the King he had a creature on board the ship that would\ndespatch all these vermin immediately. The King's heart heaved so high\nat the joy which this news gave him that his turban dropped off his\nhead. \"Bring this creature to me,\" says he; \"vermin are dreadful in\na court, and if she will perform what you say, I will load your ship\nwith gold and jewels in exchange for her.\" The captain, who knew his\nbusiness, took this opportunity to set forth the merits of Mrs Puss.\nHe told his majesty that it would be inconvenient to part with her,\nas, when she was gone, the rats and mice might destroy the goods in\nthe ship--but to oblige his Majesty he would fetch her. \"Run, run!\"\nsaid the Queen; \"I am impatient to see the dear creature.\"\n\nAway went the captain to the ship, while another dinner was got ready.\nHe put puss under his arm, and arrived at the place soon enough to see\nthe table full of rats.\n\nWhen the cat saw them, she did not wait for bidding, but jumped out of\nthe captain's arms, and in a few minutes laid almost all the rats and\nmice dead at her feet. The rest of them in their fright scampered away\nto their holes.\n\nThe King and Queen were quite charmed to get so easily rid of such\nplagues, and desired that the creature who had done them so great\na kindness might be brought to them for inspection. Upon which the\ncaptain called: \"Pussy, pussy, pussy!\" and she came to him. He then\npresented her to the queen, who started back, and was afraid to touch\na creature who had made such a havoc among the rats and mice. However,\nwhen the captain stroked the cat and called: \"Pussy, pussy,\" the Queen\nalso touched her and cried \"Putty, putty,\" for she had not learned\nEnglish. He then put her down on the queen's lap, where she, purring,\nplayed with her Majesty's hand, and then sung herself to sleep.\n\nThe King, having seen the exploits of Mrs. Puss, and being informed\nthat her kittens would stock the whole country, bargained with the\ncaptain for the whole ship's cargo, and then gave him ten times as\nmuch for the cat as all the rest amounted to.\n\nThe captain then took leave of the royal party, and set sail with\na fair wind for England, and after a happy voyage arrived safe in\nLondon.\n\nOne morning Mr. Fitzwarren had just come to his counting-house and\nseated himself at the desk, when somebody came tap, tap, at the door.\n\"Who's there?\" said Mr. Fitzwarren. \"A friend,\" answered the other;\n\"I come to bring you good news of your ship Unicorn.\" The merchant,\nbustling up instantly, opened the door, and who should be seen waiting\nbut the captain and factor, with a cabinet of jewels, and a bill of\nlading, for which the merchant lifted up his eyes and thanked heaven\nfor sending him such a prosperous voyage.\n\nThey then told the story of the cat, and showed the rich present\nthat the king and queen had sent for her to poor Dick. As soon as the\nmerchant heard this, he called out to his servants,\n\n  \"Go fetch him--we will tell him of the same;\n   Pray call him Mr. Whittington by name.\"\n\nMr. Fitzwarren now showed himself to be a good man; for when some\nof his servants said so great a treasure was too much for Dick, he\nanswered: \"God forbid I should deprive him of the value of a single\npenny.\"\n\nHe then sent for Dick, who at that time was scouring pots for the\ncook, and was quite dirty.\n\nMr. Fitzwarren ordered a chair to be set for him, and so he began to\nthink they were making game of him, at the same time begging them not\nto play tricks with a poor simple boy, but to let him go down again,\nif they pleased, to his work.\n\n\"Indeed, Mr. Whittington,\" said the merchant, \"we are all quite\nin earnest with you, and I most heartily rejoice in the news these\ngentlemen have brought you; for the captain has sold your cat to the\nKing of Barbary, and brought you in return for her more riches than I\npossess in the whole world; and I wish you may long enjoy them!\"\n\nMr. Fitzwarren then told the men to open the great treasure they had\nbrought with him; and said: \"Mr. Whittington has nothing to do but to\nput it in some place of safety.\"\n\nPoor Dick hardly knew how to behave himself for joy. He begged his\nmaster to take what part of it he pleased, since he owed it all to his\nkindness. \"No, no,\" answered Mr. Fitzwarren, \"this is all your own;\nand I have no doubt but you will use it well.\"\n\nDick next asked his mistress, and then Miss Alice, to accept a part\nof his good fortune; but they would not, and at the same time told him\nthey felt great joy at his good success. But this poor fellow was too\nkind-hearted to keep it all to himself; so he made a present to the\ncaptain, the mate, and the rest of Mr. Fitzwarren's servants; and even\nto the ill-natured old cook.\n\nAfter this Mr. Fitzwarren advised him to send for a proper tradesman\nand get himself dressed like a gentleman; and told him he was welcome\nto live in his house till he could provide himself with a better.\n\nWhen Whittington's face was washed, his hair curled, his hat cocked,\nand he was dressed in a nice suit of clothes, he was as handsome and\ngenteel as any young man who visited at Mr. Fitzwarren's; so that Miss\nAlice, who had once been so kind to him, and thought of him with pity,\nnow looked upon him as fit to be her sweetheart; and the more so, no\ndoubt, because Whittington was now always thinking what he could do to\noblige her, and making her the prettiest presents that could be.\n\nMr. Fitzwarren soon saw their love for each other, and proposed to\njoin them in marriage; and to this they both readily agreed. A day for\nthe wedding was soon fixed; and they were attended to church by the\nLord Mayor, the court aldermen, the sheriffs, and a great number of\nthe richest merchants in London, whom they afterwards treated with a\nvery rich feast.\n\nHistory tells us that Mr. Whittington and his lady lived in great\nsplendor, and were very happy. They had several children. He was\nSheriff of London, also Mayor, and received the honor of knighthood by\nHenry V.\n\nThe figure of Sir Richard Whittington with his cat in his arms, carved\nin stone, was to be seen till the year 1780 over the archway of the\nold prison of Newgate, that stood across Newgate Street.\n\n\n\n\nTOM HICKATHRIFT\n\nADAPTED BY ERNEST RHYS\n\n\nLong before William the Conqueror, there dwelt a man in the Isle of\nEly, named Thomas Hickathrift, a poor laboring man, but so strong that\nhe was able to do in one day the ordinary work of two. He had an only\nson, whom he christened Thomas, after his own name. The old man put\nhis son to good learning, but he would take none, for he was none of\nthe wisest, but something soft, and had no docility at all in him.\nGod calling this good man, the father, to his rest, his mother, being\ntender of him, kept him by her hard labor as well as she could;\nbut this was no easy matter, for Tom would sit all day in the\nchimney-corner, instead of doing anything to help her, and although at\nthe time we were speaking of he was only ten years old, he would eat\nmore than four or five ordinary men, and was five feet and a half\nin height, and two feet and a half broad. His hand was more like a\nshoulder of mutton than a boy's hand, and he was altogether like a\nlittle monster; but yet his great strength was not known.\n\nTom's strength came to be known in this manner: his mother, it seems,\nas well as himself, for they lived in the days of merry old England,\nslept upon straw. Now, being a tidy old creature, she must every now\nand then have a new bed, and one day having been promised a bottle of\nstraw by a neighboring farmer, after much begging she got her son to\nfetch it. Tom, however, made her borrow a cart-rope first, before he\nwould budge a step, without saying what he wanted it for; but the poor\nwoman, too glad to gain his help upon any terms, let him have it at\nonce. Tom, swinging the rope round his shoulder went to the farmer's,\nand found him with two men threshing in a barn. Having told what he\nwanted, the farmer said he might take as much straw as he could carry.\nTom at once took him at his word, and, placing the rope in a right\nposition, rapidly made up a bundle containing at least a cartload, the\nmen jeering at him all the while. Their merriment, however, did not\nlast long, for Tom flung the enormous bundle over his shoulders, and\nwalked away with it without any difficulty, and left them all gaping\nafter him.\n\nAfter this exploit Tom was no longer allowed to be idle. Every one\ntried to secure his services, and we are told many tales of his mighty\nstrength. On one occasion, having been offered as great a bundle of\nfire wood as he could carry, he marched off with one of the largest\ntrees in the forest. Tom was also extremely fond of attending fairs;\nand in cudgeling, wrestling, or throwing the hammer, there was no\none who could compete with him. He thought nothing of flinging a huge\nhammer into the middle of a river a mile off, and, in fact, performed\nsuch extraordinary feats, that the folk began to have a fear of him.\n\nAt length a brewer at Lynn, who required a strong lusty fellow to\ncarry his beer to the Marsh and to Wisbeach, after much persuasion,\nand promising him a new suit of clothes and as much as he liked to\neat and drink, secured Tom for his business. The distance he daily\ntraveled with the beer was upwards of twenty miles, for although there\nwas a shorter cut through the Marsh, no one durst go that way for fear\nof a monstrous giant, who was lord of a portion of the district, and\nwho killed or made slaves of every one he could lay his hands upon.\n\nNow, in the course of time, Tom was thoroughly tired of going such a\nroundabout way, and without telling his plans to any one, he resolved\nto pass through the giant's domain, or lose his life in the attempt.\nThis was a bold undertaking, but good living had so increased Tom's\nstrength and courage, that venturesome as he was before, his hardiness\nwas so much increased that he would have faced a still greater danger.\nHe accordingly drove his cart in the forbidden direction, flinging the\ngates wide open, as if for the purpose of making his daring more plain\nto be seen.\n\nAt length he was espied by the giant, who was in a rage at his\nboldness, but consoled himself by thinking that Tom and the beer\nwould soon become his prey. \"Sir,\" said the monster, \"who gave you\npermission to come this way? Do you not know how I make all stand in\nfear of me? and you, like an impudent rogue, must come and fling my\ngates open at your pleasure! Are you careless of your life? Do not you\ncare what you do? But I will make you an example for all rogues under\nthe sun! Dost thou not see how many thousand heads hang upon yonder\ntree--heads of those who have offended against my laws? But thy head\nshall hang higher than all the rest for an example!\" But Tom made\nhim answer: \"You shall not find me to be one of them.\" \"No!\" said the\ngiant, in astonishment and indignation; \"and what a fool you must be\nif you come to fight with such a one as I am, and bring never a weapon\nto defend yourself!\" Quoth Tom, \"I have a weapon here that will make\nyou know you are a traitorous rogue.\" This speech highly incensed the\ngiant, who immediately ran to his cave for his club, intending to\ndash out Tom's brains at one blow. Tom was now much distressed for a\nweapon, as by some chance he had forgot one, and he began to reflect\nhow very little his whip would help him against a monster twelve feet\nin height and six feet round the waist. But while the giant was gone\nfor his club, Tom bethought himself, and turning his cart upside down,\nadroitly took out the axletree, which would serve him for a staff, and\nremoving a wheel, fitted it to his arm instead of a shield--very good\nweapons indeed in time of trouble, and worthy of Tom's wit. When the\nmonster returned with his club, he was amazed to see the weapons with\nwhich Tom had armed himself; but uttering a word of defiance, he bore\ndown upon the poor fellow with such heavy strokes that it was as much\nas Tom could do to defend himself with his wheel. Tom, however, at\nlength cut the giant such a blow with the axletree on the side of his\nhead, that he nearly reeled over. \"What!\" said Tom, \"have you drunk\nof my strong beer already?\" This inquiry did not, as we may suppose,\nmollify the giant, who laid on his blows so sharply and heavily\nthat Tom was obliged to defend himself. By-and-by, not making any\nimpression on the wheel, the giant grew tired, and was obliged to ask\nTom if he would let him drink a little, and then he would fight again.\n\"No,\" said Tom, \"my mother did not teach me that wit: who would be\nfool then?\" The end may readily be imagined; Tom having beaten\nthe giant, cut off his head, and entered the cave, which he found\ncompletely filled with gold and silver.\n\nThe news of this victory rapidly spread throughout the country, for\nthe giant had been a common enemy to the people about. They made\nbonfires for joy, and showed their respect to Tom by every means in\ntheir power. A few days afterwards Tom took possession of the cave\nand all the giant's treasure. He pulled down the former, and built\na magnificent house on the spot; but as for the land stolen by the\ngiant, part of it he gave to the poor for their common, merely keeping\nenough for himself and his good old mother, Jane Hickathrift.\n\nTom was now a great man and a hero with all the country folk, so that\nwhen any one was in danger or difficulty, it was to Tom Hickathrift\nhe must turn. It chanced that about this time many idle and rebellious\npersons drew themselves together in and about the Isle of Ely, and set\nthemselves to defy the king and all his men.\n\nBy this time, you must know, Tom Hickathrift had secured to himself a\ntrusty friend and comrade, almost his equal in strength and courage,\nfor though he was but a tinker, yet he was a great and lusty one. Now\nthe sheriff of the country came to Tom, under cover of night, full\nof fear and trembling, and begged his aid and protection against the\nrebels, \"else,\" said he, \"we be all dead men!\" Tom, nothing loth,\ncalled his friend the tinker, and as soon as it was day, led by the\nsheriff, they went out armed with their clubs to the place where the\nrebels were gathered together. When they were got thither, Tom and the\ntinker marched up to the leaders of the band, and asked them why they\nwere set upon breaking the king's peace. To this they answered loudly,\n\"Our will is our law, and by that alone we will be governed!\" \"Nay,\"\nquoth Tom, \"if it be so, these trusty clubs are our weapons, and by\nthem alone you shall be chastised.\" These words were no sooner uttered\nthan they madly rushed on the throng of men, bearing all before them,\nand laying twenty or thirty sprawling with every blow. The tinker\nstruck off heads with such violence that they flew like balls for\nmiles about, and when Tom had slain hundreds and so broken his trusty\nclub, he laid hold of a lusty raw-boned miller and made use of him as\na weapon till he had quite cleared the field.\n\nIf Tom Hickathrift had been a hero before, he was twice a hero now.\nWhen the king heard of it all, he sent for him to be knighted, and\nwhen he was Sir Thomas Hickathrift nothing would serve him but that he\nmust be married to a great lady of the country.\n\nSo married he was, and a fine wedding they had of it. There was a\ngreat feast given, to which all the poor widows for miles round were\ninvited, because of Tom's mother, and rich and poor feasted together.\nAmong the poor widows who came was an old woman called Stumbelup, who\nwith much ingratitude stole from the great table a silver tankard. But\nshe had not got safe away before she was caught and the people were\nso enraged at her wickedness that they nearly hanged her. However,\nSir Tom had her rescued, and commanded that she should be drawn on\na wheelbarrow through the streets and lanes of Cambridge, holding a\nplacard in her hand on which was written--\n\n  \"I am the naughty Stumbelup,\n   Who tried to steal the silver cup.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHEROES OF SCANDINAVIA\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF FRITHIOF\n\nADAPTED BY JULIA GODDARD\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n\nIn a cottage overshadowed by wide-spreading oaks, and surrounded by a\ngarden in which bloomed the sweetest flowers of summer, lived an aged\npeasant named Hilding.\n\nTwo children might be seen playing about the garden from sunrise to\nsunset, but they were not old Hilding's children. The handsome boy\nwas the son of the thane Thorsten Vikingsson; the little girl, with\ndove-like eyes and silken tresses, was the daughter of good King Bele.\n\nTogether the little ones played through the long pleasant days in\ntheir foster-father's garden, or wandered through the woods, or\nclimbed the hills that sheltered them from the northern winds. The boy\nwould seek treasures from the birds' nests for his fair companion,\nnot even fearing to rob the mountain eagle, so that he might bring the\nspoil to Ingebjorg. He would also take her far out on the blue sea in\nhis little boat, and Ingebjorg never felt afraid as long as Frithiof\nwas with her.\n\nAs Frithiof grew older, he became a great hunter, and once he slew\nwithout weapons a fierce bear, which he brought home in triumph and\nlaid at Ingebjorg's feet.\n\nDuring the winter evenings, they sat by the blazing logs on the\nhearth, and Hilding told them wonderful stories of Asgard and all its\nglories, of Odin the king of the gods, and of the beautiful Frigga.\n\nBut Frithiof thought she could not be half so beautiful as Ingebjorg.\nAnd once he said so to her, and it pleased her exceedingly. And he\nsaid, moreover, that when he was a man, Ingebjorg should be his wife.\nThis also she was glad to hear, for she loved Frithiof better than any\none in the world.\n\nBut Old Hilding told them not to talk nonsense, for Ingebjorg was a\nking's daughter, and Frithiof but the son of a thane.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n\nIn a room of his palace stood King Bele. He was leaning on his sword,\nmusing over all that was past, and thinking of the future. He was an\nold man, and he felt that his strength was failing him.\n\nWith him was his faithful friend Thorsten Vikingsson. They had grown\nup to manhood together, they had fought in many a battle side by side.\nThey had been companions at many a feast and revel; and now, when old\nage had fallen upon them, they drew closer to one another, feeling\nthat the hand of death was raised to summon them into another world.\n\n\"The end of life is near,\" said the King; \"the shadow of death is cast\nupon me. No longer do I care for all that men call pleasure. The chase\nhath lost its charm, the helmet sits heavy upon my brow, and the mead\nhath lost its flavor. I would that my sons were here so that I might\ngive them my blessing.\"\n\nThen the servants summoned to King Bele's presence his two sons, Helgi\nand Halfdan. Dark was the countenance of Helgi, and there was\nblood upon his hands, for he had just been assisting at the midday\nsacrifice. But the face of Halfdan was bright as the early morning,\nand he was as light and joyous as his brother was dark and gloomy.\n\nFrithiof also came, for the thane Thorsten Vikingsson desired to see\nhim, that he too might bless his son when King Bele blessed the royal\nprinces.\n\nAnd the two old friends spoke words of wisdom to their children, and\nprayed that the gods might be with them in peace and war, in joy and\nsorrow, and grant them a long life and a glorious death.\n\nAnd when their counsels and prayers were ended, King Bele said, \"And\nnow, O sons, I bid you remember, in that day when death shall claim\nme and my faithful friend, that ye lay our bones side by side near the\nshore of the great ocean.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nIn due time, King Bele died, and Helgi and Halfdan shared his kingdom\nbetween them.\n\nThorsten Vikingsson died also, and Frithiof became lord of his\nancestral home of Framnaes.\n\nRich treasures did that home contain, three of them of magic power.\n\nThe first was the sword of Angurvadel. Blood-red it shone in time of\nwar, and wo to him who contended with its owner on the battle-field.\n\nNext was an arm-ring of pure gold, made by the god Voelund, and given\nby him to one of Thorsten Vikingsson's forefathers. Once it was stolen\nand carried to England by the viking Sote, but Thorsten and his friend\nKing Bele pursued the robber. Over the sea they sailed after the\nviking, and landed at a lonely place where the rocks reared up their\nsharp points and made the coast dangerous.\n\nThere were deep caverns which the waters filled when the tide was up,\nso lone and dark that men were almost afraid to go into them.\n\nBut Thorsten Vikingsson and the King his master were not daunted.\nHither had they come after the pirate, and here it was that he had\nlast been heard of; and they searched along the shore and in the\ncaves, and peered into every hole and cranny, until their eyes grew\nstrained and heavy, but no viking Sote was to be seen.\n\nThey had almost given up hope of finding him, when, looking through a\nchink that had hitherto escaped their notice, a fearful sight was seen\nby the valiant thane.\n\nWithin a mighty vault, forming a still, cold tomb, there lay a vessel\nall complete, with masts and spars and anchor; and on the deck there\nsat a grim skeleton clad in a robe of flame, and on his skinless arm\nglittered the golden arm-ring wrought by Voelund. The figure held in\nhis left hand a blood-stained sword, from which he was trying to scour\naway the stains.\n\n\"It is my arm-ring,\" said Thorsten Vikingsson; \"it is the spirit of\nthe viking Sote.\"\n\nAnd forthwith he forced his way into the tomb, and, after a deadly\nconflict with the specter, regained his treasure.\n\nAnd the two friends sailed home in triumph.\n\nThe third great thing that Frithiof inherited was the dragon-ship\n\"Ellide,\" which his forefathers had won in the following manner:\n\nOne of them, a rough, rude viking, with a tender heart, was out at\nsea, and on a wreck that was fast sinking saw an old man with green\nlocks sitting disconsolately.\n\nThe good-natured viking picked him up, took him home, gave him of the\nbest of food and of sparkling mead, and would have lodged him in his\nhouse; but the green-haired man said he could not tarry, for he had\nmany miles to sail that night.\n\n\"But when the sun comes up in the east,\" added the stranger, \"look for\na thank-gift on the wild seashore.\"\n\nAnd behold, as morning dawned, the viking saw a goodly vessel making\ngallant headway. As she drew near the land with streamer flying and\nbroad sails flapping in the wind, the viking saw that there was no\nsoul on board of her; and yet, without steersman to guide her, the\nvessel avoided the shoals and held her way straight to the spot where\nhe was standing.\n\nHer prow was a dragon's head, a dragon's tail formed her stern, and\ndragon's wings bore her along swifter than an eagle before the storm.\n\nThe green-haired stranger was a sea-god, and the dragon-ship \"Ellide\"\nwas his thank-gift.\n\nThus Frithiof, though only the son of a thane, had treasures that\nmight have been coveted by kings and princes. He sat in his father's\nhalls, surrounded by his companions; upon his right was seated his\nbosom friend Bjorn, and twelve bold champions clad in steel were\nranged around the board. And they drank in silence to the memory of\nThorsten Vikingsson.\n\nBut suddenly the harps struck up, and the skalds poured forth their\nsongs in honor of the dead thane.\n\nAnd Frithiof's eyes filled with tears as he listened to his father's\npraises.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\n\nIn spite of Frithiof's wealth, Helgi and Halfdan looked with disdain\nupon the son of their father's friend; and when Frithiof asked to have\nIngebjorg for his wife, Helgi scornfully answered, \"My sister shall\nnot wed the son of a thane. If you like to be our serf, we will make\nroom for you among our servants.\"\n\nThen went Frithiof away in wrath.\n\nThere was another suitor for the hand of Ingebjorg, good old King\nRing, who, having lost his wife, thought that the Lily of the North\nwould make a tender mother for his little son.\n\nAnd he sent to Helgi and Halfdan to ask for Ingebjorg in marriage,\nbut the brothers treated him as they had treated Frithiof; and the old\nKing was roused, and he swore he would revenge himself.\n\nHelgi and Halfdan were afraid when they found that Ring was really\nmaking ready for war. They began to get their army into order, and\nplaced Ingebjorg for safety in the temple of Baldur, and in their\ndistress they even sent to Frithiof to ask him to come and help them.\n\nThey chose wisely in the messenger they sent to plead for them, for it\nwas none other than old Hilding, who had been so kind to Frithiof in\nhis childhood.\n\nFrithiof was playing at chess with Bjorn when Hilding arrived. He\npretended not to hear the message, and went on with his game.\n\n\"Shall the pawn save the king?\" he asked of Bjorn.\n\nAnd after a time he added: \"There is no other way to save the queen.\"\nWhich showed that he had been all the time occupied with Hilding's\nerrand.\n\nTherefore he returned with the old peasant, and contrived to see\nIngebjorg in the temple of Baldur, and found that she still loved him\nas much as he loved her, and did not wish to marry any one else.\n\nAnd again he asked Helgi and Halfdan if they were willing that\nIngebjorg should be his wife.\n\nAnd again the brothers said, Nay, with scorn, and told him that he\nhad profaned the temple of Baldur by speaking to Ingebjorg within its\nwalls.\n\n\"For such a misdeed,\" said Helgi, \"death or banishment is the doom,\nand thou art in our power. Nevertheless, we are willing, as we wish\nto make thee useful to us, to forego the penalty. Thou shalt therefore\nsail forth to the distant Orkney Isles, and compel Jarl Angantyr to\npay the tribute that he owes us.\"\n\nFrithiof would have refused to go, but Ingebjorg persuaded him to\nundertake the mission; for she was afraid of her brothers, and knew\nthat Frithiof would be safer on the wild seas than in their hands.\n\nAt last Frithiof consented, and he took leave of Ingebjorg, and placed\nthe golden bracelet that Voelund had made upon her arm, praying her to\nkeep it for his sake.\n\nAnd then he sailed away over the heaving waters, and Ingebjorg mourned\nthat her lover was gone.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\n\nOver the sea. It was calm enough when Frithiof started; the\nstorm-winds were asleep, and the waters heaved gently as though they\nwould fain help speed the dragon-ship peacefully on her way.\n\nBut King Helgi standing on a rock repented that he had suffered the\nnoble Frithiof to escape his malice; and as he watched the good ship\n\"Ellide\" riding over the sea, he prayed loudly to the ocean-fiends\nthat they would trouble the waters and raise a fierce tempest to\nswallow up Frithiof and the dragon-ship.\n\nAll at once, the sparkling sea turned leaden gray, and the billows\nbegan to roll, the skies grew dark, and the howl of the driving wind\nwas answered by a sullen roar from the depths beneath. Suddenly,\na blinding flash of lightning played around the vessel, and as it\nvanished the pealing thunder burst from the clouds. The raging sea\nfoamed, and seethed, and tossed the vessel like a feather upon its\nangry waves, and deeper sounded the thunder, and more fiercely flashed\nthe lightning round the masts.\n\nWilder, wilder, wilder grew the storm. Alas, for Frithiof!\n\n\"Ho! take the tiller in hand,\" shouted Frithiof to Bjorn. \"and I will\nmount to the topmost mast and look out for danger'\"\n\nAnd when he looked out, he saw the storm-fiends riding on a whale. One\nwas in form like to a great white bear, the other like unto a terrible\neagle.\n\n\"Now help me, O gift of the sea-god! Help me, my gallant 'Ellide'!\"\ncried Frithiof.\n\nAnd the dragon-ship heard her master's voice, and with her keel\nshe smote the whale; so he died, and sank to the bottom of the sea,\nleaving the storm-fiends tossing upon the waves.\n\n\"Ho, spears and lances, help me in my need!\" shouted Frithiof, as he\ntook aim at the monsters.\n\nAnd he transfixed the shrieking storm-fiends, and left them entangled\nin the huge coils of seaweed which the storm had uprooted.\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" laughed rugged Bjorn, \"they are trapped in their own nets.\"\n\nAnd so they were; and they were so much taken up with trying to free\nthemselves from the seaweed and from Frithiof's long darts, that they\nwere unable to give any heed to the storm, which therefore went down,\nand Frithiof and his crew sailed on, and reached the Orkney Isles in\nsafety.\n\n\"Here comes Frithiof,\" said the viking Atle. \"I know him by his\ndragon-ship.\"\n\nAnd forthwith the viking rose and went forth; he had heard of the\nstrength of Frithiof, and wished to match himself against him.\n\nHe did not wait to see whether Frithiof came in enmity or friendship.\nFighting was the first thing he thought of, and what he most cared\nfor.\n\nHowever, the viking had the worst of it in the battle.\n\n\"There is witchcraft in thy sword,\" said he to Frithiof.\n\nSo Frithiof threw his sword aside, and they wrestled together,\nunarmed, until Atle was brought to the ground.\n\nThen spake Frithiof: \"And if I had my sword thou wouldst not long be a\nliving man.\"\n\n\"Fetch it, then,\" replied Atle. \"I swear by the gods that I will not\nmove until thou dost return.\"\n\nSo Frithiof fetched his sword, but when he saw the conquered viking\nstill upon the ground, he could not bring himself to slay so honorable\na man.\n\n\"Thou art too true and brave to die,\" said Frithiof. \"Rise, let us be\nfriends.\"\n\nAnd the two combatants went hand in hand to the banquet hall of\nAngantyr, Jarl (earl) of the Orkney Islands.\n\nA splendid hall it was, and a rare company of heroes was there; and\nall listened eagerly as Frithiof told his story, and wherefore he had\ncome.\n\n\"I never paid tribute to King Bele, though he was an old friend of\nmine,\" said the jarl, as Frithiof ended his speech, \"nor will I to his\nsons. If they want aught of me, let them come and take it.\"\n\n\"It was by no choice of my own that I came upon such an errand,\"\nreturned Frithiof, \"and I shall be well content to carry back your\nanswer.\"\n\n\"Take also this purse of gold in token of friendship,\" continued the\njarl, \"and remain with us, for I knew thy father.\"\n\nThus Frithiof and the jarl became good friends, and Frithiof consented\nto stay for a while in the Orkney Islands; but after a time he ordered\nout his good ship \"Ellide,\" and set sail for his native land.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n\nBut fearful things had come to pass since he had left his home!\nFramnaeas, the dwelling of his fathers, was a heap of ruins, and the\nland was waste and desolate.\n\nAnd as he stood upon the well-loved spot, striving to find some traces\nof the past, his faithful hound bounded forth to greet him, and licked\nhis master's hand. And then his favorite steed drew near, and thrust\nhis nose into Frithiof's hand, hoping to find therein a piece of\nbread, as in the days of old. His favorite falcon perched upon\nhis shoulder, and this was Frithiof's welcome to the home of his\nancestors.\n\nThere had been a fierce battle, for King Ring with his army had come\nagainst Helgi and Halfdan, and the country had been laid waste, and\nmany warriors slain.\n\nAnd when all chance of withstanding him was at an end, the brothers,\nrather than lose their kingdom, had consented that Ingebjorg should be\nthe wife of Ring.\n\nIngebjorg was married! Frithiof's heart was full of deep sorrow, and\nhe turned his steps towards the temple of Baldur, hoping that at the\naltar of the god he might meet with consolation.\n\nIn the temple he found King Helgi, and the sorrow that was weighing\ndown Frithiof's heart gave place to hatred and revenge.\n\nCaring nothing for the sacred place, he rushed madly forward. \"Here,\ntake thy tribute,\" said he, and he threw the purse that Jarl Angantyr\nhad given him with such force against the face of the King that Helgi\nfell down senseless on the steps of the altar.\n\nNext, seeing his arm-ring on the arm of the statue, for Helgi had\ntaken it from Ingebjorg and placed it there, he tried to tear it off,\nand, lo! the image tottered and fell upon the fire that was burning\nwith sweet perfumes before it.\n\nScarcely had it touched the fire when it was ablaze, and the\nflames spreading rapidly on every side, the whole temple was soon a\nsmoldering heap of ruins.\n\nThen Frithiof sought his ship. He vowed that he would lead a viking's\nlife, and leave forever a land where he had suffered so much sorrow.\nAnd he put out to sea.\n\nBut no sooner were his sails spread than he saw ten vessels in chase\nof him, and on the deck of one stood Helgi, who had been rescued from\nthe burning temple, and had come in chase of him.\n\nYet Frithiof was rescued from the danger as if by miracle; for one by\none the ships sank down as though some water-giant had stretched out\nhis strong arm, and dragged them below, and Helgi only saved himself\nby swimming ashore.\n\nLoud laughed Bjorn.\n\n\"I bored holes in the ships last night,\" said he; \"it is a rare ending\nto Helgi's fleet.\"\n\n\"And now,\" said Frithiof, \"I will forever lead a viking's life. I care\nnot for aught upon the land. The sea shall be my home. And I will seek\nclimes far away from here.\"\n\nSo he steered the good ship \"Ellide\" southward, and among the isles of\nGreece strove to forget the memories of bygone days.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\n\nIn and out of the sunny islands that lay like studs of emerald on a\nsilver shield sailed Frithiof, and on the deck of the dragon-ship\nhe rested through the summer nights, looking up at the moon, and\nwondering what she could tell him of the northern land.\n\nSometimes he dreamed of his home as it was before the wartime.\nSometimes he dreamed of the days when he and Ingebjorg roamed through\nthe fields and woods together, or listened to old Hilding's stories by\nthe blazing hearth; and then he would wake up with a start and stroke\nhis faithful hound, who was ever near him, saying, \"Thou alone knowest\nno change; to thee all is alike, so long as thy master is with thee.\"\n\nOne night, however, as Frithiof was musing on the deck of his vessel,\ngazing into the cloudless sky, a vision of the past rose up before\nhim: old familiar faces crowded round him, and in their midst he\nmarked one, best beloved of all, pale, sad, with sorrowful eyes; and\nher lips moved, and he seemed to hear her say, \"I am very sad without\nthee, Frithiof.\"\n\nThen a great longing came upon Frithiof to see Ingebjorg once more.\nHe would go northward, even to the country of King Ring; he must see\nIngebjorg. What did he care for danger? He must go.\n\nTo the cold, dark north.\n\nYet he dared not go openly, for King Ring looked upon him as an enemy,\nand would seize him at once, and if he did not kill him would shut him\nup in prison, so that either way he would not see the beautiful Queen.\n\nFrithiof. therefore disguised himself as an old man, and wrapped in\nbearskins, presented himself at the palace.\n\nThe old King sat upon his throne, and at his side was Ingebjorg the\nFair, looking like spring by the side of fading autumn.\n\nAs the strangely dressed figure passed along, the courtiers jeered,\nand Frithiof, thrown off his guard, angrily seized one of them, and\ntwirled him round with but little effort.\n\n\"Ho!\" said the King, \"thou art a strong old man, O stranger! Whence\nart thou?\"\n\n\"I was reared in anguish and want,\" returned Frithiof; \"sorrow has\nfilled a bitter cup for me, and I have almost drunk it to the dregs.\nOnce I rode upon a dragon, but now it lies dead upon the seashore, and\nI am left in my old age to burn salt upon the strand.\"\n\n\"Thou art not old,\" answered the wise King; \"thy voice is clear, and\nthy grasp is strong. Throw off thy rude disguise, that we may know our\nguest.\"\n\nThen Frithiof threw aside his bearskin, and appeared clad in a mantle\nof blue embroidered velvet, and his hair fell like a golden wave upon\nhis shoulder.\n\nRing did not know him, but Ingebjorg did; and when she handed the\ngoblet for him to drink, her color went and came \"like to the northern\nlight on a field of snow.\"\n\nAnd Frithiof stayed at the court, until the year came round again, and\nspring once more put forth its early blossoms.\n\nOne day a gay hunting train went forth, but old King Ring, not being\nstrong, as in former years, lay down to rest upon the mossy turf\nbeneath some arching pines, while the hunters rode on.\n\nThen Frithiof drew near, and in his heart wild thoughts arose. One\nblow of his sword, and Ingebjorg was free to be his wife.\n\nBut as he looked upon the sleeping King, there came a whisper from a\nbetter voice, \"It is cowardly to strike a sleeping foe.\"\n\nAnd Frithiof shuddered, for he was too brave a man to commit murder.\n\n\"Sleep on, old man,\" he muttered gently to himself.\n\nBut Ring's sleep was over. He started up. \"O Frithiof why hast thou\ncome hither to steal an old man's bride?\"\n\n\"I came not hither for so dark a purpose,\" answered Frithiof; \"I came\nbut to look on the face of my loved Ingebjorg once more.\"\n\n\"I know it,\" replied the King; \"I have tried thee, I have proved thee,\nand true as tried steel hast thou passed through the furnace. Stay\nwith us yet a little longer, the old man soon will be gathered to his\nfathers, then shall his kingdom and his wife be thine.\"\n\nBut Frithiof replied that he had already remained too long, and that\non the morrow he must depart.\n\nYet he went not; for death had visited the palace, and old King\nRing was stretched upon his bier, while the bards around sang of his\nwisdom.\n\nThen arose a cry among the people, \"We must choose a king!\"\n\nAnd Frithiof raised aloft upon his shield the little son of Ring.\n\n\"Here is your king,\" he said, \"the son of wise old Ring.\"\n\nThe blue-eyed child laughed and clapped his hands as he beheld the\nglittering helmets and glancing spears of the warriors. Then tired of\nhis high place, he sprang down into the midst of them.\n\nLoud uprose the shout, \"The child shall be our king, and the Jarl\nFrithiof regent. Hail to the young King of the Northmen!\"\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\n\nBut Frithiof in the hour of his good fortune did not forget that he\nhad offended the gods. He must make atonement to Baldur for having\ncaused the ruin of his temple. He must turn his steps once more\nhomeward.\n\nHome! Home! And on his father's grave he sank down with a softened\nheart, and grieved over the passion and revenge that had swayed his\ndeeds. And as he mourned, the voices of unseen spirits answered him,\nand whispered that he was forgiven.\n\nAnd to his wondering eyes a vision was vouchsafed, and the temple of\nBaldur appeared before him, rebuilt in more than its ancient splendor,\nand deep peace sank into the soul of Frithiof.\n\n\"Rise up, rise up, Frithiof, and journey onward.\"\n\nThe words came clear as a command to Frithiof, and he obeyed them.\nHe rose up, and journeyed to the place where he had left the temple a\nheap of blackened ruins.\n\nAnd, lo! the vision that had appeared to him was accomplished, for\nthere stood the beautiful building, stately and fair to look upon. So\nbeautiful, that, as he gazed, his thoughts were of Valhalla.\n\nHe entered, and the white-robed, silver-bearded priest welcomed the\nlong-absent viking, and told him that Helgi was dead, and Halfdan\nreigned alone.\n\n\"And know, O Frithiof,\" said the aged man, \"that Baldur is better\npleased when the heart grows soft and injuries are forgiven, than with\nthe most costly sacrifices. Lay aside forever all thoughts of hatred\nand revenge, and stretch out to Halfdan the hand of friendship.\"\n\nJoy had softened all Frithiofs feelings of anger, and, advancing to\nHalfdan, who was standing near the altar, he spoke out manfully.\n\n\"Halfdan,\" he said, \"let us forget the years that have gone by. Let\nall past evil and injury be buried in the grave. Henceforth let us\nbe as brothers, and once more I ask thee, give me Ingebjorg to be my\nwife.\"\n\nAnd Halfdan made answer, \"Thou shalt be my brother.\"\n\nAnd as he spoke, an inner door flew open, and a sweet chorus of\nyouthful voices was heard. A band of maidens issued forth, and at\ntheir head walked Ingebjorg, fairer than ever.\n\nThen Halfdan, leading her to Frithiof, placed her hand within that of\nthe viking.\n\n\"Behold thy wife,\" said Halfdan. \"Well hast thou won her. May the gods\nattend upon your bridal.\"\n\nSo Ingebjorg became the wife of Frithiof at last.\n\nThus steps of sorrow had but led them to a height of happiness that\npoets love to sing. Paths thick with thorns had blossomed into roses,\nand wreaths of everlasting flowers had crowned the winter snows. And\nmidst the lights and shadows of the old Northland, their lives flowed\non like to two united streams that roll through quiet pastures to the\nocean of eternity.\n\n\n\n\nHAVELOK\n\nADAPTED BY GEORGE W. COX AND E.H. JONES\n\n\nThere was once a King of England named Athelwold. Earl, baron, thane,\nknight, and bondsman, all loved him; for he set on high the wise and\nthe just man, and put down the spoiler and the robber. At that time a\nman might carry gold about with him, as much as fifty pounds, and not\nfear loss. Traders and merchants bought and sold at their ease without\ndanger of plunder. But it was bad for the evil person and for such\nas wrought shame, for they had to lurk and hide away from the King's\nwrath; yet was it unavailing, for he searched out the evil-doer and\npunished him, wherever he might be. The fatherless and the widow found\na sure friend in the King; he turned not away from the complaint of\nthe helpless, but avenged them against the oppressor, were he never\nso strong. Kind was he to the poor, neither at any time thought he the\nfine bread upon his own table too good to give to the hungry.\n\nBut a death-sickness fell on King Athelwold, and when he knew that his\nend was near he was greatly troubled, for he had one little daughter\nof tender age, named Goldborough, and he grieved to leave her.\n\n\"O my little daughter, heir to all the land, yet so young thou canst\nnot walk upon it; so helpless that thou canst not tell thy wants and\nyet hast need to give commandment like a queen! For myself I would not\ncare, being old and not afraid to die. But I had hoped to live till\nthou shouldst be of age to wield the kingdom; to see thee ride on\nhorseback through the land, and round about a thousand knights to do\nthy bidding. Alas, my little child, what will become of thee when I am\ngone?\"\n\nThen King Athelwold summoned his earls and barons, from Roxborough to\nDover, to come and take counsel with him as he lay a-dying on his bed\nat Winchester. And when they all wept sore at seeing the King so near\nhis end, he said, \"Weep not, good friends, for since I am brought to\ndeath's door your tears can in nowise deliver me; but rather give me\nyour counsel. My little daughter that after me shall be your queen;\ntell me in whose charge I may safely leave both her and England till\nshe be grown of age to rule?\"\n\nAnd with one accord they answered him, \"In the charge of Earl Godrich\nof Cornwall, for he is a right wise and a just man, and held in fear\nof all the land. Let him be ruler till our queen be grown.\"\n\nThen the King sent for a fair linen cloth, and thereon having laid the\nmass-book and the chalice and the paton, he made Earl Godrich swear\nupon the holy bread and wine to be a true and faithful guardian of his\nchild, without blame or reproach, tenderly to entreat her, and justly\nto govern the realm till she should be twenty winters old; then to\nseek out the best, the bravest, and the strongest man as husband for\nher and deliver up the kingdom to her hand. And when Earl Godrich\nhad so sworn, the King shrived him clean of all his sins. Then having\nreceived his Saviour he folded his hands, saying, \"Domine, in manus\ntuas;\" and so he died.\n\nThere was sorrow and mourning among all the people for the death\nof good King Athelwold. Many the mass that was sung for him and the\npsalter that was said for his soul's rest. The bells tolled and the\npriests sang, and the people wept; and they gave him a kingly burial.\n\nThen Earl Godrich began to govern the kingdom; and all the nobles and\nall the churls, both free and thrall, came and did allegiance to him.\nHe set in all the castles strong knights in whom he could trust, and\nappointed justices and sheriffs and peace-sergeants in all the shires.\nSo he ruled the country with a firm hand, and not a single wight dare\ndisobey his word, for all England feared him. Thus, as the years went\non, the earl waxed wonderly strong and very rich.\n\nGoldborough, the King's daughter, throve and grew up the fairest woman\nin all the land, and she was wise in all manner of wisdom that is good\nand to be desired. But when the time drew on that Earl Godrich should\ngive up the kingdom to her, he began to think within himself--\"Shall\nI, that have ruled so long, give up the kingdom to a girl, and let her\nbe queen and lady over me? And to what end? All these strong earls and\nbarons, governed by a weaker hand than mine, would throw off the yolk\nand split up England into little baronies, evermore fighting betwixt\nthemselves for mastery. There would cease to be a kingdom, and so\nthere would cease to be a queen. She cannot rule it, and she shall not\nhave it. Besides, I have a son. Him will I teach to rule and make him\nking.\"\n\nSo the earl let his oath go for nothing, and went to Winchester where\nthe maiden was, and fetched her away and carried her off to Dover to a\ncastle that is by the seashore. Therein he shut her up and dressed her\nin poor clothes, and fed her on scanty fare; neither would he let any\nof her friends come near her.\n\nNow there was in Denmark a certain King called Birkabeyn, who had\nthree children, two daughters and a son. And Birkabeyn fell sick, and\nknowing that death had stricken him, he called for Godard, whom\nhe thought his truest friend, and said, \"Godard, here I commend my\nchildren to thee. Care for them, I pray thee, and bring them up as\nbefits the children of a king. When the boy is grown and can bear a\nhelm upon his head and wield a spear, I charge thee to make him king\nof Denmark. Till then hold my estate and royalty in charge for him.\"\nAnd Godard swore to guard the children zealously, and to give up the\nkingdom to the boy. Then Birkabeyn died and was buried. But no sooner\nwas the King laid in his grave than Godard despised his oath; for he\ntook the children, Havelok and his two little sisters, Swanborough and\nHelfled, and shut them up in a castle with barely clothes to cover\nthem. And Havelok, the eldest, was scarce three years old.\n\nOne day Godard came to see the children, and found them all crying\nof hunger and cold; and he said angrily, \"How now! What is all this\ncrying about?\" The boy Havelok answered him, \"We are very hungry, for\nwe get scarce anything to eat. Is there no more corn, that men cannot\nmake bread and give us? We are very hungry.\" But his little sisters\nonly sat shivering with the cold, and sobbing, for they were too young\nto be able to speak. The cruel Godard cared not. He went to where the\nlittle girls sat, and drew his knife, and took them one after another\nand cut their throats. Havelok, seeing this sorry sight, was terribly\nafraid, and fell down on his knees begging Godard to spare his life.\nSo earnestly he pleaded that Godard was fain to listen: and listening\nhe looked upon the knife, red with the children's blood; and when he\nsaw the still, dead faces of the little ones he had slain, and looked\nupon their brother's tearful face praying for life, his cruel courage\nfailed him quite. He laid down the knife. He would that Havelok were\ndead, but feared to slay him for the silence that would come. So the\nboy pleaded on; and Godard stared at him as though his wits were gone;\nthen turned upon his heel and came out from the castle. \"Yet,\" he\nthought, \"if I should let him go, one day he may wreak me mischief and\nperchance seize the crown. But if he dies, my children will be lords\nof Denmark after me.\" Then Godard sent for a fisherman whose name\nwas Grim, and he said, \"Grim, you know you are my bondsman. Do now my\nbidding, and to-morrow I shall make thee free and give thee gold and\nland. Take this child with thee to-night when thou goest a fishing,\nand at moonrise cast him in the sea, with a good anchor fast about\nhis neck to keep him down. To-day I am thy master and the sin is mine.\nTo-morrow thou art free.\"\n\nThen Grim took up the child and bound him fast, and having thrust a\ngag into his mouth so that he could not speak, he put him in a bag and\ntook him on his back and carried him home. When Grim got home his wife\ntook the bag from off his shoulders and cast it upon the ground within\ndoors; and Grim told her of his errand. Now as it drew to midnight he\nsaid, \"Rise up, wife, and blow up the fire to light a candle, and get\nme my clothes, for I must be stirring.\" But when the woman came into\nthe room where Havelok lay, she saw a bright light round the boy's\nhead, like a sunbeam, and she called to her husband to come and see.\nAnd when he came they both marveled at the light and what it might\nmean, for it was very bright and shining. Then they unbound Havelok\nand took away the gag, and turning down his shirt they found a\nking-mark fair and plain upon his right shoulder. \"God help us, wife,\"\nsaid Grim, \"but this is surely the heir of Denmark, son of Birkabeyn\nour King! Ay, and he shall be King in spite of Godard.\" Then Grim fell\ndown at the boy's feet and said, \"Forgive me, my King, that I knew thee\nnot. We are thy subjects and henceforth will feed and clothe thee till\nthou art grown a man and can bear shield and spear. Then deal thou\nkindly by me and mine, as I shall deal with thee. But fear not Godard.\nHe shall never know, and I shall be a bondsman still, for I will never\nbe free till thou, my King, shall set me free.\"\n\nThen was Havelok very glad, and he sat up and begged for bread. And\nthey hastened and fetched bread and cheese and butter and milk; and\nfor very hunger the boy ate up the whole loaf, for he was well-nigh\nfamished. And after he had eaten, Grim made a fair bed and undressed\nHavelok and laid him down to rest, saying, \"Sleep, my son; sleep fast\nand sound and have no care, for nought shall harm thee.\"\n\nOn the morrow Grim went to Godard, and telling him he had drowned the\nboy, asked for his reward. But Godard bade him go home and remain a\nbondsman, and be thankful that he was not hanged for so wicked a deed.\nAfter a while Grim, beginning to fear that both himself and Havelok\nmight be slain, sold all his goods, his corn, and cattle, and fowls,\nand made ready his little ship, tarring and pitching it till not a\nseam nor a crack could be found, and setting a good mast and sail\ntherein. Then with his wife, his three sons, his two daughters, and\nHavelok, he entered into the ship and sailed away from Denmark; and a\nstrong north wind arose and drove the vessel to England, and carried\nit up the Humber so far as Lindesay, where it grounded on the sands.\nGrim got out of the boat with his wife and children and Havelok, and\nthen drew it ashore.\n\nOn the shore he built a house of earth and dwelt therein, and from\nthat time the place was called Grimsby, after Grim.\n\nGrim did not want for food, for he was a good fisherman both with\nnet and hook, and he would go out in his boat and catch all manner of\nfish--sturgeons, turbot, salmon, cod, herrings, mackerel, flounders,\nand lampreys, and he never came home empty-handed. He had four baskets\nmade for himself and his sons, and in these they used to carry the\nfish to Lincoln, to sell them, coming home laden with meat and meal,\nand hemp and rope to make new nets and lines. Thus they lived for\ntwelve years. But Havelok saw that Grim worked very hard, and being\nnow grown a strong lad, he bethought him \"I eat more than Grim and all\nhis five children together, and yet do nothing to earn the bread. I\nwill no longer be idle, for it is a shame for a man not to work.\" So\nhe got Grim to let him have a basket like the rest, and next day took\nit out heaped with fish, and sold them well, bringing home silver\nmoney for them. After that he never stopped at home idle. But soon\nthere arose a great dearth, and corn grew so dear that they could not\ntake fish enough to buy bread for all. Then Havelok, since he needed\nso much to eat, determined that he would no longer be a burden to\nthe fisherman. So Grim made him a coat of a piece of an old sail, and\nHavelok set off to Lincoln barefoot to seek for work.\n\nIt so befell that Earl Godrich's cook, Bertram, wanted a scullion, and\ntook Havelok into his service. There was plenty to eat and plenty to\ndo. Havelok drew water and chopped wood, and brought twigs to make\nfires, and carried heavy tubs and dishes, but was always merry and\nblythe. Little children loved to play with him; and grown knights and\nnobles would stop to talk and laugh with him, although he wore nothing\nbut rags of old sail-cloth which scarcely covered his great limbs, and\nall admired how fair and strong a man God had made him. The cook liked\nHavelok so much that he bought him new clothes, with shoes and hose;\nand when Havelok put them on, no man in the kingdom seemed his peer\nfor strength and beauty. He was the tallest man in Lincoln, and the\nstrongest in England.\n\nEarl Godrich assembled a Parliament in Lincoln, and afterward held\ngames. Strong men and youths came to try for mastery at the game of\nputting the stone. It was a mighty stone, the weight of an heifer. He\nwas a stalwart man who could lift it to his knee, and few could stir\nit from the ground. So they strove together, and he who put the stone\nan inch farther than the rest was to be made champion. But Havelok,\nthough he had never seen the like before, took up the heavy stone, and\nput it twelve feet beyond the rest, and after that none would contend\nwith him. Now this matter being greatly talked about, it came to the\nears of Earl Godrich, who bethought him--\"Did not Athelwold bid me\nmarry his daughter to the strongest man alive? In truth, I will marry\nher to this cook's scullion. That will abase her pride; and when she\nis wedded to a bondsman she will be powerless to injure me. That will\nbe better than shutting her up; better than killing her.\" So he sent\nand brought Goldborough to Lincoln, and set the bells ringing, and\npretended great joy, for he said, \"Goldborough, I am going to marry\nthee to the fairest and stalwartest man living.\" But Goldborough\nanswered she would never wed any one but a king. \"Ay, ay, my girl;\nand so thou wouldst be queen and lady over me? But thy father made\nme swear to give thee to the strongest man in England, and that is\nHavelok, the cook's scullion; so willing or not willing to-morrow thou\nshalt wed.\" Then the earl sent for Havelok and said, \"Master, will you\nmarry?\" \"Not I,\" said Havelok; \"for I cannot feed nor clothe a wife.\nI have no house, no cloth, no victuals. The very clothes I wear do not\nbelong to me, but to Bertram the cook, as I do.\" \"So much the better,\"\nsaid the earl; \"but thou shalt either wed her that I shall bring\nthee, or else hang from a tree. So choose.\" Then Havelok said he would\nsooner wed. Earl Godrich went back to Goldborough and threatened\nher with burning at the stake unless she yielded to his bidding. So,\nthinking it God's will, the maid consented. And on the morrow\nthey were wed by the Archbishop of York, who had come down to the\nParliament, and the earl told money out upon the mass-book for her\ndower.\n\nNow after he was wed, Havelok knew not what to do, for he saw how\ngreatly Earl Godrich hated him. He thought he would go and see Grim.\nWhen he got to Grimsby he found that Grim was dead, but his children\nwelcomed Havelok and begged him bring his wife thither, since they\nhad gold and silver and cattle. And when Goldborough came, they made\na feast, sparing neither flesh nor fowl, wine nor ale. And Grim's sons\nand daughters served Havelok and Goldborough.\n\nSorrowfully Goldborough lay down at night, for her heart was heavy\nat thinking she had wedded a bondsman. But as she fretted she saw a\nlight, very bright like a blaze of fire, which came out of Havelok's\nmouth. And she thought, \"Of a truth but he must be nobly born.\" Then\nshe looked on his shoulder, and saw the king mark, like a fair cross\nof red gold, and at the same time she heard an angel say--\n\n\"Goldborough, leave sorrowing, for Havelok is a king's son, and shall\nbe king of England and of Denmark, and thou queen.\"\n\nThen was Goldborough glad, and kissed Havelok, who, straightway\nwaking, said, \"I have had a strange dream. I dreamed I was on a high\nhill, whence I could see all Denmark; and I thought as I looked that\nit was all mine. Then I was taken up and carried over the salt sea to\nEngland, and methought I took all the country and shut it within my\nhand.\" And Goldborough said, \"What a good dream is this! Rejoice, for\nit means that thou shalt be king of England and of Denmark. Take now\nmy counsel and get Grim's sons to go with thee to Denmark.\"\n\nIn the morning Havelok went to the church and prayed to God to speed\nhim in his undertaking. Then he came home and found Grim's three\nsons just going off fishing. Their names were Robert the Red, William\nWendut, and Hugh Raven. He told them who he was, how Godard had slain\nhis sisters, and delivered him over to Grim to be drowned, and how\nGrim had fled with him to England. Then Havelok asked them to go with\nhim to Denmark, promising to make them rich men. To this they gladly\nagreed, and having got ready their ship and victualed it, they set\nsail with Havelok and his wife for Denmark. The place of their landing\nwas hard by the castle of a Danish earl named Ubbe, who had been a\nfaithful friend to King Birkabeyn. Havelok went to Earl Ubbe, with a\ngold ring for a present, asking leave to buy and sell goods from\ntown to town in that part of the country. Ubbe, beholding the tall,\nbroad-shouldered, thick-chested man, so strong and cleanly made,\nthought him more fit for a knight than for a peddler. He bade Havelok\nbring his wife and come and eat with him at his table. So Havelok went\nto fetch Goldborough, and Robert the Red and William Wendut led her\nbetween them till they came to the castle, where Ubbe, with a great\ncompany of knights, welcomed them gladly. Havelok stood a head taller\nthan any of the knights, and when they sat at table Ubbe's wife ate\nwith him, and Goldborough with Ubbe. It was a great feast, and after\nthe feast Ubbe sent Havelok and his friends to Bernard Brown, bidding\nhim take care of them till next day. So Bernard received the guests\nand gave them a fine supper.\n\nNow in the night there came sixty-one thieves to Bernard's house. Each\nhad a drawn sword and a long knife, and they called to Bernard to undo\nthe door. He started up and armed himself, and told them to go away.\nBut the thieves defied him, and with a great boulder broke down the\ndoor. Then Havelok, hearing the din, rose up, and seizing the bar of\nthe door stood on the threshold and threw the door wide open, saying,\n\"Come in, I am ready for you!\" First came three against him with their\nswords, but Havelok slew these with the door bar at a single blow; the\nfourth man's crown he broke; he smote the fifth upon the shoulders,\nthe sixth athwart the neck, and the seventh on the breast; so they\nfell dead. Then the rest drew back and began to fling their swords\nlike darts at Havelok, till they had wounded him in twenty places. In\nspite of that, in a little while he had killed a score of the thieves.\nThen Hugh Raven, waking up, called Robert and William Wendut. One\nseized a staff, each of the others a piece of timber as big as his\nthigh, and Bernard his axe, and all three ran out to help Havelok.\nSo well did Havelok and his fellows fight, breaking ribs and arms and\nshanks, and cracking crowns, that not a thief of all the sixty-one was\nleft alive. Next morning, when Ubbe rode past and saw the sixty-one\ndead bodies, and heard what Havelok had done, he sent and brought both\nhim and Goldborough to his own castle, and fetched a leech to tend his\nwounds, and would not hear of his going away; for, said he, \"This man\nis better than a thousand knights.\"\n\nNow that same night, after he had gone to bed, Ubbe awoke about\nmidnight and saw a great light shining from the chamber where Havelok\nand Goldborough lay. He went softly to the door and peeped in to\nsee what it meant. They were lying fast asleep, and the light was\nstreaming from Havelok's mouth. Ubbe went and called his knights, and\nthey also came in and saw this marvel. It was brighter than a hundred\nburning tapers; bright enough to count money by. Havelok lay on his\nleft side with his back towards them, uncovered to the waist; and they\nsaw the king-mark on his right shoulder sparkle like shining gold and\ncarbuncle. Then knew they that it was King Birkabeyn's son, and seeing\nhow like he was to his father, they wept for joy. Thereupon Havelok\nawoke, and all fell down and did him homage, saying he should be their\nking. On the morrow Ubbe sent far and wide and gathered together earl\nand baron, dreng [servant] and thane, clerk, knight and burgess, and\ntold them all the treason of Godard, and how Havelok had been nurtured\nand brought up by Grim in England. Then he showed them their King, and\nthe people shouted for joy at having so fair and strong a man to rule\nthem. And first Ubbe sware fealty to Havelok, and after him the others\nboth great and small. And the sheriffs and constables and all that\nheld castles in town or burg came out and promised to be faithful to\nhim. Then Ubbe drew his sword and dubbed Havelok a knight, and set a\ncrown upon his head and made him King. And at the crowning they held\nmerry sports--jousting with sharp spears, tilting at the shield,\nwrestling, and putting the shot. There were harpers and pipers and\ngleemen with their tabors; and for forty days a feast was held with\nrich meats in plenty and the wine flowed like water. And first the\nKing made Robert and William Wendut and Hugh Raven barons, and gave\nthem land and fee. Then when the feast was done, he set out with\na thousand knights and five thousand sergeants to seek for Godard.\nGodard was a-hunting with a great company of men, and Robert riding on\na good steed found him and bade him to come to the King. Godard smote\nhim and set on his knights to fight with Robert and the King's men.\nThey fought till ten of Godard's men were slain; the rest began to\nflee. \"Turn again, O knights!\" cried Godard; \"I have fed you and shall\nfeed you yet. Forsake me not in such a plight.\" So they turned about\nand fought again. But the King's men slew every one of them, and took\nGodard and bound him and brought him to Havelok. Then King Havelok\nsummoned all his nobles to sit in judgment and say what should be done\nto such a traitor. And they said, \"Let him be dragged to the gallows\nat the mare's tail, and hanged by the heels in fetters, with this\nwriting over him: 'This is he that drove the King out of the land, and\ntook the life of the King's sisters.'\" So Godard suffered his doom,\nand none pitied him.\n\nThen Havelok gave his scepter into Earl Ubbe's hand to rule Denmark\non his behalf, and after that took ship and came to Grimsby, where\nhe built a priory for black monks to pray evermore for the peace of\nGrim's soul. But when Earl Godrich understood that Havelok and his\nwife were come to England, he gathered together a great army at\nLincoln on the 17th of March, and came to Grimsby to fight with\nHavelok and his knights. It was a great battle, wherein more than\na thousand knights were slain. The field was covered with pools of\nblood. Hugh Raven and his brothers, Robert and William, did valiantly\nand slew many earls; but terrible was Earl Godrich to the Danes, for\nhis sword was swift and deadly. Havelok came to him and reminding him\nof the oath he sware to Athelwold that Goldborough should be queen,\nbade him yield the land. But Godrich defied him, and running forward\nwith his heavy sword cut Havelok's shield in two. Then Havelok smote\nhim to the earth with a blow upon the helm; but Godrich arose and\nwounded him upon the shoulder, and Havelok, smarting with the cut, ran\nupon his enemy and hewed off his right hand. Then he took Earl Godrich\nand bound him and sent him to the Queen. And when the English knew\nthat Goldborough was the heir of Athelwold, they laid by their swords\nand came and asked pardon of the Queen. And with one accord they took\nEarl Godrich and bound him to a stake and burned him to ashes, for the\ngreat outrage he had done.\n\nThen all the English nobles came and sware fealty to Havelok and\ncrowned him King in London. Of Grim's two daughters, Havelok wedded\nGunild, the elder, to Earl Reyner of Chester; and Levive, the younger,\nfair as a new rose blossom opening to the sun, he married to Bertram,\nthe cook, whom he made Earl of Cornwall in the room of Godrich.\n\nSixty years reigned Havelok and Goldborough in England, and they had\nfifteen children, who all became kings and queens. All the world spake\nof the great love that was between them. Apart, neither knew joy or\nhappiness. They never grew weary of each other, for their love was\never new; and not a word of anger passed between them all their lives.\n\n\n\n\nTHE VIKINGS\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nCHARACTERS OF THE VIKINGS\n\n\nIn Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, in all the villages and towns around\nthe shores of the Baltic, the viking race was born.\n\nIt has been said that the name \"vikings\" was first given to those\nNorthmen who dwelt in a part of Denmark called Viken. However that\nmay be, it was the name given to all the Northmen who took to a wild,\nsea-roving life, because they would often seek shelter with their\nboats in one or another of the numerous bays which abounded along\ntheir coasts.\n\nThus the vikings were not by any means all kings, as you might think\nfrom their name; yet among them were many chiefs of royal descent.\nThese, although they had neither subjects nor kingdoms over which to\nrule, no sooner stepped on board a viking's boat to take command of\nthe crew, than they were given title of king.\n\nThe Northmen did not, however, spend all their lives in harrying and\nburning other countries. When the seas were quiet in the long,\nsummer days, they would go off, as I have told you, on their wild\nexpeditions. But when summer was over, and the seas began to grow\nrough and stormy, the viking bands would go home with their booty and\nstay there, to build their houses, reap their fields, and, when spring\nhad come again, to sow their grain in the hope of a plenteous harvest.\n\nThere was thus much that the viking lad had to learn beyond the art\nof wielding the battle-axe, poising the spear, and shooting an arrow\nstraight to its mark. Even a free-born yeoman's son had to work, work\nas hard as had the slaves or thralls who were under him.\n\nThe old history books, or Sagas, as the Norseman called them, have,\namong other songs, this one about the duties of a well-born lad:\n\n  \"He now learnt\n  To tame oxen\n  And till the ground,\n  To timber houses\n  And build barns,\n  To make carts\n  And form plows.\"\n\nIndeed, it would have surprised you to see the fierce warriors and\nmighty chiefs themselves laying aside their weapons and working in the\nfields side by side with their thralls, sowing, reaping, threshing.\nYet this they did.\n\nEven kings were often to be seen in the fields during the busy harvest\nseason. They would help their men to cut the golden grain, and with\ntheir own royal hands help to fill the barn when the field was reaped.\nTo king and yeomen alike, work, well done, was an honorable deed.\n\nLong before the Sagas were written down, the stories of the heroes\nwere sung in halls and on battle-fields by the poets of the nation.\nThese poets were named skalds, and their rank among the Northmen was\nhigh.\n\nSometimes the Sagas were sung in prose, at other times in verse.\nSometimes they were tales which had been handed down from father to\nson for so many years that it was hard to tell how much of them was\nhistory, how much fable. At other times the Sagas were true accounts\nof the deeds of the Norse kings. For the skalds were ofttimes to be\nseen on the battle-fields or battleships of the vikings, and then\ntheir songs were of the brave deeds which they had themselves seen\ndone, of the victories and defeats at which they themselves had been\npresent.\n\nThe battles which the vikings fought were fought on the sea more\nfrequently than on the land.\n\nTheir warships were called long-ships and were half-decked The rowers\nsat in the center of the boat, which was low, so that their oars could\nreach the water. Sails were used, either red or painted in different\nstripes, red, blue, yellow, green. These square, brightly colored\nsails gave the boats a gay appearance which was increased by the\nround shields which were hung outside the gunwale and which were\nalso painted red, black, or white. At the prow there was usually a\nbeautifully carved and gorgeously painted figurehead. The stem and\nstern of the ships were high. In the stern there was an upper deck,\nbut in the forepart of the vessel there was nothing but loose planks\non which the sailors could step. When a storm was raging or a battle\nwas being fought, the loose planks did not, as you may imagine, offer\na very firm foothold.\n\nThe boats were usually built long and pointed for the sake of speed,\nand had seats for thirty rowers. Besides the rowers, the long-boats\ncould hold from sixty to one hundred and fifty sailors.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nHARALD FAIRHAIR\n\nHarald Fairhair was one of the foremost of the kings of Norway. He was\nso brave a Northman that he became king over the whole of Norway.\nIn eight hundred and sixty-one, when he began to reign, Norway was\ndivided into thirty-one little kingdoms, over each of which ruled a\nlittle king. Harald Fairhair began his reign by being one of these\nlittle kings.\n\nHarald was only a boy, ten years of age, when he succeeded his father;\nbut as he grew up he became a very strong and handsome man, as well as\na very wise and prudent one. Indeed he grew so strong that he fought\nwith and vanquished five great kings in one battle.\n\nAfter this victory, Harald sent, so the old chronicles of the kings\nof Norway say, some of his men to a princess named Gyda, bidding them\ntell her that he wished to make her his queen.\n\nBut Gyda wished to marry a king who ruled over a whole country,\nrather than one who owned but a small part of Norway, and this was the\nmessage she sent back to Harald:\n\n\"Tell Harald,\" said the maiden, \"that I will agree to be his wife if\nhe will first, for my sake, subdue all Norway to himself, for only\nthus methinks can he be called the king of a people.\"\n\nThe messengers thought Gyda's words too bold, but when King Harald\nheard them, he said, \"It is wonderful that I did not think of this\nbefore. And now I make a solemn vow and take God to witness, who made\nme and rules over all things, that never shall I clip or comb my hair\nuntil I have subdued the whole of Norway with scat [land taxes], and\nduties, and domains.\"\n\nThen, without delay, Harald assembled a great force and prepared to\nconquer all the other little kings who were ruling over the different\nparts of Norway.\n\nIn many districts the kings had no warning of Harald's approach, and\nbefore they could collect an army they were vanquished.\n\nWhen their ruler was defeated, many of his subjects fled from the\ncountry, manned their ships and sailed away on viking expeditions.\nOthers made peace with King Harald and became his men.\n\nOver each district, as he conquered it, Harald placed a jarl or earl,\nthat he might judge and do justice, and also that he might collect the\nscat and fines which Harald had imposed upon the conquered people. As\nthe earls were given a third part of the money they thus collected,\nthey were well pleased to take service with King Harald. And indeed\nthey grew richer, and more powerful too, than they had ever been\nbefore.\n\nIt took King Harald ten long years to do as he had vowed, and make all\nNorway his own. During these years a great many new bands of vikings\nwere formed, and led by their chief or king they left the country, not\nchoosing to become King Harald's men.\n\nThese viking bands went west, over the sea, to Shetland and Orkney, to\nthe Hebrides, and also to England, Scotland, and Ireland.\n\nDuring the winter they made their home in these lands, but in summer\nthey sailed to the coast of Norway and did much damage to the towns\nthat lay along the coast. Then, growing bolder, they ventured inland,\nand because of their hatred against King Harald, they plundered and\nburned both towns and villages.\n\nMeanwhile Harald, having fulfilled his vow, had his hair combed and\ncut. It had grown so rough and tangled during these ten years that his\npeople had named him Harald Sufa, which meant \"Shock-headed Harald.\"\nNow, however, after his long, yellow hair was combed and clipped, he\nwas named Harald Fairhair, and by this name he was ever after known.\nNor did the King forget Gyda, for whose sake he had made his vow. He\nsent for her, and she, as she had promised, came to marry the King of\nall Norway.\n\nNow the raids of the vikings along the coasts of Norway angered the\nKing, and he determined that they should end. He therefore set out\nwith a large fleet in search of his rebellious subjects.\n\nThese, when they heard of his approach, fled to their long-ships and\nsailed out to sea. But Harald reached Shetland and slew those vikings\nwho had not fled, then, landing on the Orkney Isles, he burned and\nplundered, sparing no Northman who crossed his path. On the Hebrides\nKing Harald met with worthy foes, for here were many who had once\nthemselves been kings in Norway. In all the battles that he fought\nHarald was victorious and gained much booty.\n\nWhen he went back to Norway the King left one of his jarls to carry on\nwar against the inhabitants of Scotland. Caithness and Sutherland were\nconquered by this jarl for Harald, and thereafter many chiefs, both\nNorsemen and Danes, settled there. While Harald Fairhair was ruling\nin Norway, a grandson of Alfred the Great became king in England. His\nname was Athelstan the Victorious. Now Athelstan liked to think that\nhe was a greater king than Harald Fairhair. It pleased him, too, to\nplay what seemed to him a clever trick on his rival across the sea.\n\nHe sent a beautiful sword to Harald. Its hilt was covered with gold\nand silver, and set with precious gems. When Athelstan's messenger\nstood before the King of Norway he held out the hilt of the sword\ntoward him, saying \"Here is a sword that King Athelstan doth send to\nthee.\" Harald at once seized it by the hilt. Then the messenger smiled\nand said, \"Now shalt thou be subject to the King of England, for thou\nhast taken the sword by the hilt as he desired thee.\" To take a sword\nthus was in those olden days a sign of submission.\n\nThen Harald was very angry, for he knew that Athelstan had sent this\ngift only that he might mock him. He wished to punish the messenger\nwhom Athelstan had sent with the sword. Nevertheless he remembered\nhis habit whenever he got angry, to first keep quiet and let his anger\nsubside, and then look at the matter calmly. By the time the prudent\nKing had done this, his anger had cooled, and Athelstan's messenger\ndeparted unharmed.\n\nBut with Athelstan Harald still hoped to be equal.\n\nThe following summer he sent a ship to England. It was commanded by\nHauk, and into his hands Harald intrusted his young son Hakon, whom he\nwas sending to King Athelstan. For what purpose you shall hear.\n\nHauk reached England safely, and found the King in London at a feast.\nThe captain boldly entered the hall where the feasters sat, followed\nby thirty of his men, each one of whom had his shield hidden under his\ncloak.\n\nCarrying Prince Hakon, who was a child, in his arms, Hauk stepped\nbefore the King and saluted him. Then before Athelstan knew what he\nmeant to do, Hauk, had placed the little prince on the King's knee.\n\n\"Why hast thou done this?\" said Athelstan to the bold Northman.\n\n\"Harald of Norway asks thee to foster his child,\" answered Hauk. But\nwell he knew that his words would make the King of England wroth. For\none who became foster-father to a child was usually of lower rank than\nthe real father. This, you see, was Harald's way of thanking Athelstan\nfor his gift of the sword.\n\nWell, as Hauk expected, the King was very angry when he heard why the\nlittle prince had been placed on his knee. He drew his sword as though\nhe would slay the child.\n\nHauk, however, was quite undisturbed, and said, \"Thou hast borne the\nchild on thy knee, and thou canst murder him if thou wilt, but thou\ncanst not make an end of all King Harald's sons by so doing.\"\n\nThen the viking, with his men, left the hall and strode down to the\nriver, where they embarked, and at once set sail for Norway.\n\nWhen Hauk reached Norway and told the King all that he had done,\nHarald was well content, for the King of England had been forced to\nbecome the foster-father of his little son.\n\nAthelstan's anger against his royal foster-child was soon forgotten,\nand ere long he loved him better than any of his own kin.\n\nHe ordered the priest to baptize the little prince, and to teach him\nthe true faith.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE SEA-FIGHT OF THE JOMSVIKINGS\n\n\nWhile King Harald was reigning in Denmark, he built on the shores of\nthe Baltic a fortress which he called Jomsburg. In this fortress dwelt\na famous band of vikings named the Jomsvikings. It is one of their\nmost famous sea-fights that I am going to tell you now.\n\nThe leader of the band was Earl Sigvald, and a bold and fearless\nleader he had proved himself.\n\nIt was at a great feast that Sigvald made the rash vow which led to\nthis mighty battle. After the horn of mead had been handed round not\nonce or twice only, Sigvald arose and vowed that, before three winters\nhad passed, he and his band would go to Norway and either kill or\nchase Earl Hakon out of the country.\n\nIn the morning Sigvald and his Jomsvikings perhaps felt that they had\nvowed more than they were able to perform, yet it was not possible\nto withdraw from the enterprise unless they were willing to be called\ncowards. They therefore thought it would be well to start without\ndelay, that they might, if possible, take Earl Hakon unawares.\n\nIn a short time therefore the Jomsviking fleet was ready, and sixty\nwarships sailed away toward Norway. No sooner did they reach Earl\nHakon's realms than they began to plunder and burn along the coast.\nBut while they gained booty, they lost time. For Hakon, hearing of\ntheir doings, at once split a war-arrow and sent it all over the\nrealm.\n\nIt was in this way that Hakon heard that the Jomsvikings were in his\nland. In one village the vikings had, as they thought, killed all the\ninhabitants. But unknown to them a man had escaped with the loss of\nhis hand, and hastening to the shore he sailed away in a light boat in\nsearch of the earl.\n\nHakon was at dinner when the fugitive stood before him.\n\n\"Art thou sure that thou didst see the Jomsvikings?\" asked Hakon, when\nhe had listened to the man's tidings.\n\nFor answer, the peasant stretched out the arm from which the hand had\nbeen sundered, saying, \"Here is the token that the Jomsvikings are in\nthe land.\"\n\nIt was then that Hakon sent the war-arrow throughout the land and\nspeedily gathered together a great force. Eric one of his sons, also\ncollected troops, but though the preparations for war went on apace,\nthe Jomsvikings heard nothing of them, and still thought that they\nwould take Earl Hakon by surprise.\n\nAt length the vikings sailed into a harbor about twenty miles north\nof a town called Stad. As they were in want of food some of the band\nlanded, and marched to the nearest village. Here they slaughtered the\nmen who could bear arms, burned the houses, and drove all the cattle\nthey could find before them toward the shore.\n\nOn the way to their ships, however, they met a peasant who said to\nthem, \"Ye are not doing like true warriors, to be driving cows and\ncalves down to the strand, while ye should be giving chase to the\nbear, since ye are come near to the bear's den.\" By the bear the\npeasant meant Earl Hakon, as the vikings well knew.\n\n\"What says the man?\" they all cried, together; \"can he tell us about\nEarl Hakon?\"\n\n\"Yesternight he lay inside the island that you can see yonder,\" said\nthe peasant; \"and you can slay him when you like, for he is waiting\nfor his men.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt have all this cattle,\" cried one of the vikings, \"if thou\nwilt show us the way to the jarl.\"\n\nThen the peasant went on board the vikings' boat, and they hastened to\nSigvald to tell him that the earl lay in a bay but a little way off.\n\nThe Jomsvikings armed themselves as if they were going to meet a large\narmy, which the peasant said was unnecessary, as the earl had but few\nships and men.\n\nBut no sooner had the Jomsvikings come within sight of the bay than\nthey knew that the peasant had deceived them. Before them lay more\nthan three hundred war-ships.\n\nWhen the peasant saw that his trick was discovered he jumped\noverboard, hoping to swim to shore. But one of the vikings flung a\nspear after him, and the peasant sank and was seen no more.\n\nNow though the vikings had fewer ships than Earl Hakon, they were\nlarger and higher, and Sigvald hoped that this would help them to gain\nthe victory.\n\nSlowly the fleets drew together and a fierce battle began. At first\nHakon's men fell in great numbers, for the Jomsvikings fought with all\ntheir wonted strength. So many spears also were aimed at Hakon himself\nthat his armor was split asunder and he threw it aside.\n\nWhen the earl saw that the battle was going against him, he called his\nsons together and said, \"I dislike to fight against these men, for I\nbelieve that none are their equals, and I see that it will fare ill\nwith us unless we hit upon some plan. Stay here with the host and I\nwill go ashore and see what can be done.\"\n\nThen the jarl went into the depths of a forest, and, sinking on his\nknees, he prayed to the goddess Thorgerd. But when no answer came\nto his cry, Hakon thought she was angry, and to appease her wrath he\nsacrificed many precious things to her. Yet still the goddess hid her\nface.\n\nIn his despair Hakon then promised to offer human sacrifices, but no\nsign was given to him that his offering would be accepted.\n\n\"Thou shalt have my son, my youngest son Erling!\" cried the King,\nand then at length, so it seemed to Hakon, Thorgerd was satisfied. He\ntherefore gave his son, who was but seven years old, to his thrall,\nand bade him offer the child as a sacrifice to the goddess.\n\nThen Hakon went back to his ships, and lo! as the battle raged, the\nsky began to grow dark though it was but noon, and a storm arose and\na heavy shower of hail fell. The hail was driven by the wind in the\nfaces of the vikings, and flashes of lightning blinded them and\nloud peals of thunder made them afraid. But a short time before the\nwarriors had flung aside their garments because of the heat; now the\ncold was so intense that they could scarce hold their weapons.\n\nWhile the storm raged, Hakon praised the gods and encouraged his men\nto fight more fiercely. Then, as the battle went against them, the\nJomsvikings saw in the clouds a troll, or fiend. In each finger the\ntroll held an arrow, which, as it seemed to them, always hit and\nkilled a man.\n\nSigvald saw that his men were growing fearful, and he, too; felt that\nthe gods were against them. \"It seems to me,\" he said, \"that it is\nnot men whom we have to fight to-day but fiends, and it requires some\nmanliness to go boldly against them.\"\n\nBut now the storm abated, and once more the vikings began to conquer.\nThen the earl cried again to Thorgerd, saying that now he deserved\nvictory, for he had sacrificed to her his youngest son.\n\nThen once more the storm-cloud crept over the sky and a terrific storm\nof hail beat upon the vikings, and now they saw, not in the clouds,\nbut in Hakon's ship, two trolls, and they were speeding arrows among\nthe enemies of Hakon.\n\nEven Sigvald, the renowned leader of the Jomsvikings, could not stand\nbefore these unknown powers. He called to his men to flee, for, said\nhe, \"we did not vow to fight against fiends, but against men.\"\n\nBut though Sigvald sailed away with thirty-five ships, there were some\nof his men who scorned to flee even from fiends. Twenty-five ships\nstayed behind to continue the fight.\n\nThe viking Bui was commander of one of these. His ship was boarded by\nHakon's men, whereupon he took one of his treasures-chests in either\nhand and jumped into the sea. As he jumped he cried, \"Overboard, all\nBui's men,\" and neither he nor those who followed him were ever seen\nagain.\n\nBefore the day was ended, Sigvald's brother had also sailed away with\ntwenty-four boats, so that there was left but one boat out of all the\nJomsvikings' fleet. It was commanded by the viking Vagn.\n\nEarl Hakon sent his son Eric to board this boat, and after a brave\nfight it was captured, for Vagn's men were stiff and weary with their\nwounds, and could scarce wield their battle-axes or spears.\n\nWith thirty-six of his men Vagn was taken prisoner and brought to\nland, and thus Earl Hakon had defeated the famous vikings of Jomsburg.\nThe victory was due, as Hakon at least believed, to the aid of the\ngoddess Thorgerd.\n\nWhen the weapons and other booty which they had taken had been divided\namong the men, Earl Hakon and his chiefs sat down in their warbooths\nand appointed a man named Thorkel to behead the prisoners.\n\nEighteen were beheaded ere the headsman came to Vagn. Now, as he had a\ndislike to this brave viking, Thorkel rushed at him, holding his sword\nin both hands. But Vagn threw himself suddenly at Thorkel's feet,\nwhereupon the headsman tripped over him. In a moment Vagn was on his\nfeet, Thorkel's sword in his hand, and before any one could stop him\nhe had slain his enemy.\n\nThen Earl Eric, Hakon's son, who loved brave men, said, \"Vagn, wilt\nthou accept life?\"\n\n\"That I will,\" said the bold viking, \"if thou give it to all of us who\nare still alive.\"\n\n\"Loose the prisoners!\" cried the young earl, and it was done. Thus of\nthe famous band of Jomsvikings twelve yet lived to do many a valiant\ndeed in days to come.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO OF GERMANY\n\n\n\n\nSIEGFRIED\n\nADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nMIMER THE BLACKSMITH\n\n\nSiegfried was born a prince and grew to be a hero, a hero with a heart\nof gold. Though he could fight, and was as strong as any lion, yet he\ncould love too and be as gentle as a child.\n\nThe father and mother of the hero-boy lived in a strong castle near\nthe banks of the great Rhine river. Siegmund, his father, was a rich\nking, Sieglinde, his mother, a beautiful queen, and dearly did they\nlove their little son Siegfried.\n\nThe courtiers and the high-born maidens who dwelt in the castle\nhonored the little Prince, and thought him the fairest child in all\nthe land, as indeed he was.\n\nSieglinde, his queen-mother, would oftimes dress her little son in\ncostly garments and lead him by the hand before the proud, strong\nmen-at-arms who stood before the castle walls. Naught had they but\nsmiles and gentle words for their little Prince.\n\nWhen he grew older, Siegfried would ride into the country, yet always\nwould he be attended by King Siegmund's most trusted warriors.\n\nThen one day armed men entered the Netherlands, the country over which\nthe King Siegmund ruled, and the little Prince was sent away from the\ncastle, lest by any evil chance he should fall into the hands of the\nfoe.\n\nSiegfried was hidden away safe in the thickets of a great forest, and\ndwelt there under the care of a blacksmith, named Mimer.\n\nMimer was a dwarf, belonging to a strange race of little folk called\nNibelungs. The Nibelungs lived for the most part in a dark little town\nbeneath the ground. Nibelheim was the name of this little town and\nmany of the tiny men who dwelt there were smiths. All the livelong\nday they would hammer on their little anvils, but all through the long\nnight they would dance and play with tiny little Nibelung women.\n\nIt was not in the little dark town of Nibelung that Mimer had his\nforge, but under the trees of the great forest to which Siegfried had\nbeen sent.\n\nAs Mimer or his pupils wielded their tools the wild beasts would start\nfrom their lair, and the swift birds would wing their flight through\nthe mazes of the wood, lest danger lay in those heavy, resounding\nstrokes.\n\nBut Siegfried, the hero-boy, would laugh for glee, and seizing the\nheaviest hammer he could see he would swing it with such force upon\nthe anvil that it would be splintered into a thousand pieces.\n\nThen Mimer the blacksmith would scold the lad, who was now the\nstrongest of all the lads under his care; but little heeding his\nrebukes, Siegfried would fling himself merrily out of the smithy and\nhasten with great strides into the gladsome wood. For now the Prince\nwas growing a big lad, and his strength was even as the strength of\nten.\n\nTo-day Siegfried was in a merry mood. He would repay Mimer's rebukes\nin right good fashion. He would frighten the little blacksmith dwarf\nuntil he was forced to cry for mercy.\n\nClad in his forest dress of deerskins, with his hair as burnished gold\nblowing around his shoulders, Siegfried wandered away into the depths\nof the woodland.\n\nThere he seized the silver horn which hung from his girdle and raised\nit to his lips. A long, clear note he blew, and ere the sound had died\naway the boy saw a sight which pleased him well. Here was good prey\nindeed! A bear, a great big shaggy bear was peering at him out of a\nbush, and as he gazed the beast opened its jaws and growled, a fierce\nand angry growl. Not a whit afraid was Siegfried. Quick as lightning\nhe had caught the great creature in his arms, and ere it could turn\nupon him, it was muzzled, and was being led quietly along toward the\nsmithy.\n\nMimer was busy at his forge sharpening a sword when Siegfried reached\nthe doorway.\n\nAt the sound of laughter the little dwarf raised his head. It was the\nPrince who laughed. Then Mimer saw the bear, and letting the sword he\nheld drop to the ground with a clang, he ran to hide himself in the\ndarkest corner of the smithy.\n\nThen Siegfried laughed again. He was no hero-boy to-day, for next\nhe made the big bear hunt the little Nibelung dwarf from corner to\ncorner, nor could the frightened little man escape or hide himself\nin darkness. Again and again as he crouched in a shadowed corner,\nSiegfried would stir up the embers of the forge until all the smithy\nwas lighted with a ruddy glow.\n\nAt length the Prince tired of his game, and unmuzzling the bear he\nchased the bewildered beast back into the shelter of the woodland.\n\nMimer, poor little dwarf, all a-tremble with his fear, cried angrily,\n\"Thou mayest go shoot if so it please thee, and bring home thy dead\nprey. Dead bears thou mayest bring hither if thou wilt, but live\nbears shalt thou leave to crouch in their lair or to roam through the\nforest.\" But Siegfried, the naughty Prince, only laughed at the little\nNibelung's frightened face and harsh, croaking voice.\n\nNow as the days passed, Mimer the blacksmith began to wish that\nSiegfried had never come to dwell with him in his smithy. The\nPrince was growing too strong, too brave to please the little dwarf;\nmoreover, many were the mischievous tricks his pupil played on him.\n\nPrince though he was, Mimer would see if he could not get rid of his\ntormentor. For indeed though, as I have told you, Siegfried had a\nheart of gold, at this time the gold seemed to have grown dim and\ntarnished. Perhaps that was because the Prince had learned to distrust\nand to dislike, nay, more, to hate the little, cunning dwarf.\n\nHowever that may be, it is certain that Siegfried played many pranks\nupon the little Nibelung, and he, Mimer, determined to get rid of the\nquick-tempered, strong-handed Prince.\n\nOne day, therefore, it happened that the little dwarf told Siegfried\nto go deep into the forest to bring home charcoal for the forge. And\nthis Mimer did, though he knew that in the very part of the forest\nto which he was sending the lad there dwelt a terrible dragon, named\nRegin. Indeed Regin was a brother of the little blacksmith, and would\nbe lying in wait for the Prince. It would be but the work of a moment\nfor the monster to seize the lad and greedily to devour him.\n\nTo Siegfried it was always joy to wander afar through the woodland.\nOfttimes had he thrown himself down on the soft, moss-covered ground\nand lain there hour after hour, listening to the wood-bird's song.\nSometimes he would even find a reed and try to pipe a tune as sweet\nas did the birds, but that was all in vain, as the lad soon found.\nNo tiny songster would linger to hearken to the shrill piping of his\ngrassy reed, and the Prince himself was soon ready to fling it far\naway.\n\nIt was no hardship then to Siegfried to leave the forge and the hated\nlittle Nibelung, therefore it was that with right good will he set out\nin search of charcoal for Mimer the blacksmith.\n\nAs he loitered there where the trees grew thickest, Siegfried took his\nhorn and blew it lustily. If he could not pipe on a grassy reed, at\nleast he could blow a rousing note on his silver horn.\n\nSuddenly, as Siegfried blew, the trees seemed to sway, the earth to\ngive out fire. Regin, the dragon, had roused himself at the blast, and\nwas even now drawing near to the Prince.\n\nIt was at the mighty strides of the monster that the trees had seemed\nto tremble, it was as he opened his terrible jaws that the earth had\nseemed to belch out fire.\n\nFor a little while Siegfried watched the dragon in silence. Then he\nlaughed aloud, and a brave, gay laugh it was. Alone in the forest,\nwith a sword, buckled to his side, the hero was afraid of naught, not\neven of Regin. The ugly monster was sitting now on a little hillock,\nlooking down upon the lad, his victim as he thought.\n\nThen Siegfried called boldly to the dragon, \"I will kill thee, for in\ntruth thou art an ugly monster.\"\n\nAt those words Regin opened his great jaws, and showed his terrible\nfangs. Yet still the boy Prince mocked at the hideous dragon.\n\nAnd now Regin in his fury crept closer and closer to the lad, swinging\nhis great tail, until he well-nigh swept Siegfried from his feet.\n\n[Illustration: THE HERO'S SHINING SWORD PIERCED THE HEART OF THE\nMONSTER.]\n\nSwiftly then the Prince drew his sword, well tempered as he knew, for\nhad not he himself wrought it in the forge of Mimer the blacksmith?\nSwiftly he drew his sword, and with one bound he sprang upon the\ndragon's back, and as he reared himself, down came the hero's\nshining sword and pierced into the very heart of the monster. Thus\nas Siegfried leaped nimbly to the ground, the dragon fell back dead.\nRegin was no longer to be feared.\n\nThen Siegfried did a curious thing. He had heard the little Nibelung\nmen who came to the smithy to talk with Mimer, he had heard them\nsay that whoever should bathe in the blood of Regin the dragon would\nhenceforth be safe from every foe. For his skin would grow so tough\nand horny that it would be to him as an armor through which no sword\ncould ever pierce.\n\nThinking of the little Nibelungs' harsh voices and wrinkled little\nfaces as they had sat talking thus around Mimer's glowing forge,\nSiegfried now flung aside his deerskin dress and bathed himself from\ntop to toe in the dragon's blood.\n\nBut as he bathed, a leaf from off a linden tree was blown upon his\nshoulders, and on the spot where it rested Siegfried's skin was still\nsoft and tender as when he was a little child. It was only a tiny spot\nwhich was covered by the linden leaf, but should a spear thrust, or an\narrow pierce that tiny spot, Siegfried would be wounded as easily as\nany other man.\n\nThe dragon was dead, the bath was over, and clad once more in his\ndeerskin, Siegfried set out for the smithy. He brought no charcoal for\nthe forge; all that he carried with him was a heart afire with anger,\na sword quivering to take the life of the Nibelung, Mimer.\n\nFor now Siegfried knew that the dwarf had wished to send him forth to\ndeath, when he bade him go seek charcoal in the depths of the forest.\n\nInto the dusky glow of the smithy plunged the hero, and swiftly he\nslew the traitor Mimer. Then gaily, for he had but slain evil ones of\nwhom the world was well rid, then gaily Siegfried fared through the\nforest in quest of adventure.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nSIEGFRIED WINS THE TREASURE\n\n\nNow this is what befell the Prince.\n\nIn his wanderings he reached the country called Isenland, where the\nwarlike but beautiful Queen Brunhild reigned. He gazed with wonder\nat her castle, so strong it stood on the edge of the sea, guarded by\nseven great gates. Her marble palaces also made him marvel, so white\nthey glittered in the sun.\n\nBut most of all he marveled at this haughty Queen, who refused to\nmarry any knight unless he could vanquish her in every contest to\nwhich she summoned him.\n\nBrunhild from the castle window saw the fair face and the strong limbs\nof the hero, and demanded that he should be brought into her presence,\nand as a sign of her favor she showed the young Prince her magic horse\nGana.\n\nYet Siegfried had no wish to conquer the warrior-queen and gain her\nhand and her broad dominions for his own. Siegfried thought only of a\nwonder-maiden, unknown, unseen as yet, though in his heart he hid an\nimage of her as he dreamed that she would be.\n\nIt is true that Siegfried had no love for the haughty Brunhild. It is\nalso true that he wished to prove to her that he alone was a match\nfor all her boldest warriors, and had even power to bewitch her magic\nsteed, Gana, if so he willed, and steal it from her side.\n\nAnd so one day a spirit of mischief urged the Prince on to a gay\nprank, as also a wayward spirit urged him no longer to brook Queen\nBrunhild's mien.\n\nBefore he left Isenland, therefore, Siegfried in a merry mood threw\nto the ground the seven great gates that guarded the Queen's strong\ncastle. Then he called to Gana, the magic steed, to follow him into\nthe world, and this the charger did with a right good will.\n\nWhether Siegfried sent Gana back to Isenland or not I do not know, but\nI know that in the days to come Queen Brunhild never forgave the hero\nfor his daring feat.\n\nWhen the Prince had left Isenland he rode on and on until he came to\na great mountain. Here near a cave he found two little dwarfish\nNibelungs, surrounded by twelve foolish giants. The two little\nNibelungs were princes, the giants were their counselors.\n\nNow the King of the Nibelungs had but just died in the dark little\nunderground town of Nibelheim, and the two tiny princes were the sons\nof the dead King.\n\nBut they had not come to the mountain-side to mourn for their royal\nfather. Not so indeed had they come, but to divide the great hoard of\ntreasure which the King had bequeathed to them at his death.\n\nAlready they had begun to quarrel over the treasure, and the twelve\nfoolish giants looked on, but did not know what to say or do, so they\ndid nothing, and never spoke at all.\n\nThe dwarfs had themselves carried the hoard out of the cave where\nusually it was hidden, and they had spread it on the mountain-side.\n\nThere it lay, gold as far as the eye could see, and farther. Jewels,\ntoo, were there, more than twelve wagons could carry away in four days\nand nights, each going three journeys.\n\nIndeed, however much you took from this marvelous treasure, never did\nit seem to grow less.\n\nBut more precious even than the gold or the jewels of the hoard was a\nwonderful sword which it possessed. It was named Balmung, and had been\ntempered by the Nibelungs in their glowing forges underneath the glad\ngreen earth.\n\nBefore the magic strength of Balmung's stroke, the strongest warrior\nmust fall, nor could his armor save him, however close its links had\nbeen welded by some doughty smith.\n\nAs Siegfried rode towards the two little dwarfs, they turned and saw\nhim, with his bright, fair face, and flowing locks.\n\nNimble as little hares they darted to his side, and begged that he\nwould come and divide their treasure. He should have the good sword\nBalmung as reward, they cried.\n\nSiegfried dismounted, well pleased to do these ugly little men a\nkindness.\n\nBut alas! ere long the dwarfs began to mock at the hero with their\nharsh voices, and to wag their horrid little heads at him, while\nthey screamed in a fury that he was not dividing the treasure as they\nwished.\n\nThen Siegfried grew angry with the tiny princes, and seizing the magic\nsword, he cut off their heads. The twelve foolish giants also he slew,\nand thus became himself master of the marvelous hoard as well as of\nthe good sword Balmung.\n\nSeven hundred valiant champions, hearing the blast of the hero's horn,\nnow gather together to defend the country from this strange young\nwarrior. But he vanquished them all, and forced them to promise that\nthey would henceforth serve no other lord save him alone. And this\nthey did, being proud of his great might.\n\nNow tidings of the slaughter of the two tiny princes had reached\nNibelheim, and great was the wrath of the little men and little women\nwho dwelt in the dark town beneath the earth.\n\nAlberich, the mightiest of all the dwarfs, gathered together his army\nof little gnomes to avenge the death of the two dwarf princes and\nalso, for Alberich was a greedy man, to gain for himself the great\nhoard.\n\nWhen Siegfried saw Alberich at the head of his army of little men\nhe laughed aloud, and with a light heart he chased them all into the\ngreat cave on the mountain-side.\n\nFrom off the mighty dwarf, Alberich, he stripped his famous Cloak of\nDarkness, which made him who wore it not only invisible, but strong\nas twelve strong men. He snatched also from the dwarf's fingers his\nwishing-rod, which was a Magic Wand. And last of all he made Alberich\nand his thousands of tiny warriors take an oath, binding them evermore\nto serve him alone. Then hiding the treasure in the cave with the\nseven hundred champions whom he had conquered, he left Alberich and\nhis army of little men to guard it, until he came again. And Alberich\nand his dwarfs were faithful to the hero who had shorn them of their\ntreasure, and served him for evermore.\n\nSiegfried, the magic sword Balmung by his side, the Cloak of Darkness\nthrown over his arm, the Magic Wand in his strong right hand, went\nover the mountain, across the plains, nor did he tarry until he came\nagain to the castle built on the banks of the river Rhine in his own\nlow-lying country of the Netherlands.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nSIEGFRIED COMES HOME\n\n\nThe walls of the old castle rang. King Siegmund, his knights and\nliegemen, all were welcoming Prince Siegfried home. They had not seen\ntheir hero-prince since he had been sent long years before to be under\nthe charge of Mimer the blacksmith.\n\nHe had grown but more fair, more noble, they thought, as they gazed\nupon his stalwart limbs, his fearless eyes.\n\nAnd what tales of prowess clustered around his name! Already their\nPrince had done great deeds as he had ridden from land to land.\n\nThe King and his liegemen had heard of the slaughter of the terrible\ndragon, of the capture of the great treasure, of the defiance of the\nwarlike and beautiful Brunhild. They could wish for no more renowned\nprince than their own Prince Siegfried.\n\nThus Siegmund and his subjects rejoiced that the heir to the throne\nwas once again in his own country.\n\nIn the Queen's bower, too, there was great joy. Sieglinde wept, but\nher tears were not those of sadness. Sieglinde wept for very gladness\nthat her son had come home safe from his wonderful adventures.\n\nNow Siegmund wished to give a great feast in honor of his son. It\nshould be on his birthday which was very near, the birthday on which\nthe young Prince would be twenty-one years of age.\n\nFar and wide throughout the Netherlands and into distant realms\ntidings of the feast were borne. Kinsmen and strangers, lords and\nladies, all were asked to the banquet in the great castle hall where\nSiegmund reigned supreme.\n\nIt was the merry month of June when the feast was held, and the sun\nshone bright on maidens in fair raiment, on knights in burnished\narmor.\n\nSiegfried was to be knighted on this June day along with four hundred\nyoung squires of his father's realm. The Prince was clad in gorgeous\narmor, and on the cloak flung around his shoulders jewels were seen to\nsparkle in the sunlight, jewels made fast with gold embroidery worked\nby the white hands of the Queen and her fair damsels.\n\nIn games and merry pastimes the hours of the day sped fast away, until\nthe great bell of the Minster pealed, calling the gay company to the\nhouse of God for evensong. Siegfried and the four hundred squires\nknelt before the altar, ere they were knighted by the royal hand of\nSiegmund the King.\n\nThe solemn service ended, the new-made knights hastened back to the\ncastle, and there in the great hall a mighty tournament was held.\nKnights who had grown gray in service tilted with those who but that\nday had been given the grace of knighthood. Lances splintered, shields\nfell before the mighty onslaughts of the gallant warriors, until King\nSiegmund bade the tilting cease.\n\nThen in the great hall feasting and song held sway until daylight\nfaded and the stars shone bright.\n\nYet no weariness knew the merrymakers. The next morning, and for six\nlong summer days, they tilted, they sang, they feasted.\n\nWhen at length the great festival drew to a close, Siegmund in the\npresence of his guests gave to his dear son Siegfried many lands and\nstrong castles over which he might be lord.\n\nTo all his son's comrades, too, the King gave steeds and costly\nraiment, while Queen Sieglinde bestowed upon them freely coins of\ngold. Such abundant gifts had never before been dreamed of as were\nthus lavished by Siegmund and Sieglinde on their guests.\n\nAs the rich nobles looked upon the brave young Prince Siegfried, there\nwere some who whispered among themselves that they would fain have him\nto rule in the land.\n\nSiegfried heard their whispers, but in no wise did he give heed to the\nwish of the nobles.\n\nNever, he thought while his beautiful mother and his bounteous father\nlived, would he wear the crown.\n\nIndeed Siegfried had no wish to sit upon a throne, he wished but to\nsubdue the evil-doers in the land. Or better still, he wished to go\nforth in search of new adventure. And this right soon he did.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nSIEGFRIED AT THE COURT OF WORMS\n\n\nAt the Court of Worms in Burgundy dwelt the Princess Kriemhild, whose\nfame for beauty and kindness had spread to many a far-off land. She\nlived with her mother Queen Ute and her three brothers King Gunther,\nKing Gernot, and King Giselher. Her father had long been dead. Gunther\nsat upon the throne and had for chief counselor his cruel uncle Hagen.\n\nOne night Kriemhild dreamed that a beautiful wild hawk with feathers\nof gold came and perched upon her wrist. It grew so tame that she\ntook it with her to the hunt. Upward it soared when loosed toward the\nbright blue sky. Then the dream-maiden saw two mighty eagles swoop\ndown upon her petted hawk and tear it to pieces.\n\nThe Princess told her dream to her mother, who said, \"The hawk, my\ndaughter, is a noble knight who shall be thy husband, but, alas,\nunless God defend him from his foes, thou shalt lose him ere he has\nlong been thine.\" Kriemhild replied, \"O lady mother, I wish no knight\nto woo me from thy side.\" \"Nay,\" said the Queen, \"Speak not thus, for\nGod will send to thee a noble knight and strong.\"\n\nHearing of the Princess, Siegfried, who lived in the Netherlands,\nbegan to think that she was strangely like the unknown maiden whose\nimage he carried in his heart. So he set out to go into Burgundy to\nsee the beautiful Kriemhild who had sent many knights away.\n\nSiegfried's father wished to send an army with him but Siegfried said,\n\"Nay, give me only, I pray thee, eleven stalwart warriors.\"\n\nTidings had reached King Gunther of the band of strangers who had so\nboldly entered the royal city. He sent for Hagen, chief counselor,\nwho said they must needs be princes or ambassadors. \"One knight, the\nfairest and the boldest, is, methinks, the wondrous hero Siegfried,\nwho has won great treasure from the Nibelungs, and has killed two\nlittle princely dwarfs, their twelve giants, and seven hundred great\nchampions of the neighboring country with his good sword Balmung.\"\nGraciously then did the King welcome Siegfried.\n\n\"I beseech thee, noble knight,\" said the King, \"tell me why thou hast\njourneyed to this our royal city?\"\n\nNow Siegfried was not ready to speak of the fair Princess, so he told\nthe King that he had come to see the splendor of the court and to do\ngreat deeds, even to wrest from him the broad realm of Burgundy and\nlikewise all his castles. \"Unless thou dost conquer me I shall rule in\nmy great might in this realm.\"\n\n\"We do well to be angry at the words of this bold stripling,\" said\nHagen. A quarrel arose, but King Gernot, Gunther's brother, made peace\nand Siegfried began to think of the wonderlady of his dreams and grew\nashamed of his boasting.\n\nThen all Burgundy began to hear of Siegfried. At the end of the year\nBurgundy was threatened with invasion. King Ludegast and King Ludeger\nthreatened mighty wars.\n\nWhen Siegfried heard of this he said, \"If trouble hath come to thee,\nmy arm is strong to bring thee aid. If thy foes were as many as\nthirty thousand, yet with one thousand warriors would I destroy them.\nTherefore, leave the battle in my hands.\"\n\nWhen the rude kings heard that Siegfried would fight for Burgundy\ntheir hearts failed for fear and in great haste they gathered their\narmies. King Gunther meanwhile had assembled his men and the chief\ncommand was given to Hagen, but Siegfried rode forward to seek the\nfoe.\n\nIn advance of their warriors stood Ludegast and Ludeger ready for the\nfray. Grasping his good sword Balmung, Siegfried first met Ludegast\npiercing him through his steel harness with an ugly thrust till he lay\nhelpless at his feet. Thirty of the King's warriors rode up and beset\nthe hero, but Siegfried slaughtered all save one. He was spared to\ncarry the dire tidings of the capture of Ludegast to his army.\n\nLudeger had seen the capture of his brother and met the onslaught that\nSiegfried soon made upon him. But with a great blow Siegfried struck\nthe shield from Ludeger's hold, and in a moment more he had him at his\nmercy. For the second time that day the Prince was victor over a king.\n\nWhen Ute, the mother of Kriemhild, heard that a grand festival\ncelebrating the prowess of Prince Siegfried was to be held at court,\nshe made up her mind that she and her daughter would lend their\ngracious presence. Many noble guests were there gathered and when the\nknights entered the lists the King sent a hundred of his liegemen to\nbring the Queen and the Princess to the great hall. When Siegfried saw\nthe Princess he knew that she was indeed more beautiful than he had\never dreamed. A messenger was sent by the King bidding him greet the\nPrincess. \"Be welcome here, Sir Siegfried, for thou art a good and\nnoble knight,\" said the maiden softly, \"for right well hast thou\nserved my royal brother.\"\n\n\"Thee will I serve for ever,\" cried the happy hero, \"thee will I serve\nfor ever, and thy wishes shall ever be my will!\"\n\nThen for twelve glad days were Siegfried and Kriemhild ofttimes side\nby side.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nSIEGFRIED GOES TO ISENLAND\n\n\nWhitsuntide had come and gone when tidings from beyond the Rhine\nreached the court at Worms.\n\nNo dread tidings were these, but glad and good to hear, of a matchless\nQueen named Brunhild who dwelt in Isenland. King Gunther listened with\nright good will to the tales of this warlike maiden, for if she were\nbeautiful she was also strong as any warrior. Wayward, too, she was,\nyet Gunther would fain have her as his queen to sit beside him on his\nthrone.\n\nOne day the King sent for Siegfried to tell him that he would fain\njourney to Isenland to wed Queen Brunhild.\n\nNow Siegfried, as you know, had been in Isenland and knew some of the\ncustoms of this wayward Queen. So he answered the King right gravely\nthat it would be a dangerous journey across the sea to Isenland,\nnor would he win the Queen unless he were able to vanquish her great\nstrength.\n\nHe told the King how Brunhild would challenge him to three contests,\nor games, as she would call them. And if she were the victor, as\nindeed she had been over many a royal suitor, then his life would be\nforfeited.\n\nAt her own desire kings and princes had hurled the spear at the\nstalwart Queen, and it had but glanced harmless off her shield, while\nshe would pierce the armor of these valiant knights with her first\nthrust. This was one of the Queen's games.\n\nThen the knights would hasten to the ring and throw the stone from\nthem as far as might be, yet ever Queen Brunhild threw it farther. For\nthis was another game of the warrior-queen.\n\nThe third game was to leap beyond the stone which they had thrown, but\never to their dismay the knights saw this marvelous maiden far outleap\nthem all.\n\nThese valorous knights, thus beaten in the three contests, had been\nbeheaded, and therefore it was that Siegfried spoke so gravely to King\nGunther.\n\nBut Gunther, so he said, was willing to risk his life to win so brave\na bride.\n\nNow Hagen had drawn near to the King, and as he listened to\nSiegfried's words, the grim warrior said, \"Sire, since the Prince\nknows the customs of Isenland, let him go with thee on thy journey,\nto share thy dangers, and to aid thee in the presence of this warlike\nQueen.\"\n\nAnd Hagen, for he hated the hero, hoped that he might never return\nalive from Isenland.\n\nBut the King was pleased with his counselor's words. \"Sir Siegfried,\"\nhe said, \"wilt thou help me to win the matchless maiden Brunhild for\nmy queen?\"\n\n\"That right gladly will I do,\" answered the Prince, \"if thou wilt\npromise to give me thy sister Kriemhild as my bride, should I bring\nthee back safe from Isenland, the bold Queen at thy side.\"\n\nThen the King promised that on the same day that he wedded Brunhild,\nhis sister should wed Prince Siegfried, and with this promise the hero\nwas well content.\n\n\"Thirty thousand warriors will I summon to go with us to Isenland,\"\ncried King Gunther gaily.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Prince, \"thy warriors would but be the victims of\nthis haughty Queen. As plain knight-errants will we go, taking with us\nnone, save Hagen the keen-eyed and his brother Dankwart.\"\n\nThen King Gunther, his face aglow with pleasure, went with Sir\nSiegfried to his sister's bower, and begged her to provide rich\ngarments in which he and his knights might appear before the beauteous\nQueen Brunhild.\n\n\"Thou shalt not beg this service from me,\" cried the gentle Princess,\n\"rather shalt thou command that which thou dost wish. See, here have I\nsilk in plenty. Send thou the gems from off thy bucklers, and I and my\nmaidens will work them with gold embroideries into the silk.\"\n\nThus the sweet maiden dismissed her brother, and sending for her\nthirty maidens who were skilled in needlework she bade them sew their\ndaintiest stitches, for here were robes to be made for the King and\nSir Siegfried ere they went to bring Queen Brunhild into Rhineland.\n\nFor seven weeks Kriemhild and her maidens were busy in their bower.\nSilk white as new-fallen snow, silk green as the leaves in spring\ndid they shape into garments worthy to be worn by the King and Sir\nSiegfried, and amid the gold embroideries glittered many a radiant\ngem.\n\nMeanwhile down by the banks of the Rhine a vessel was being built to\ncarry the King across the sea to Isenland.\n\nWhen all was ready the King and Sir Siegfried went to the bower of the\nPrincess. They would put on the silken robes and the beautiful cloaks\nKriemhild and her maidens had sewed to see that they were neither too\nlong nor too short. But indeed the skilful hands of the Princess had\nnot erred. No more graceful or more beautiful garments had ever before\nbeen seen by the King or the Prince.\n\n\"Sir Siegfried,\" said the gentle Kriemhild, \"care for my royal brother\nlest danger befall him in the bold Queen's country. Bring him home\nboth safe and sound I beseech thee.\"\n\nThe hero bowed his head and promised to shield the King from danger,\nthen they said farewell to the maiden, and embarked in the little ship\nthat awaited them on the banks of the Rhine. Nor did Siegfried forget\nto take with him his Cloak of Darkness and his good sword Balmung.\n\nNow none was there on the ship save King Gunther, Siegfried, Hagen,\nand Dankwart, but Siegfried with his Cloak of Darkness had the\nstrength of twelve men as well as his own strong right hand.\n\nMerrily sailed the little ship, steered by Sir Siegfried himself. Soon\nthe Rhine river was left behind and they were out on the sea, a strong\nwind filling their sails. Ere evening, full twenty miles had the good\nship made.\n\nFor twelve days they sailed onward, until before them rose the grim\nfortress that guarded Isenland.\n\n\"What towers are these?\" cried King Gunther, as he gazed upon the\nturreted castle which looked as a grim sentinel guarding the land.\n\n\"These,\" answered the hero, \"are Queen Brunhild's towers and this is\nthe country over which she rules.\"\n\nThen turning to Hagen and Dankwart Siegfried begged them to let him\nbe spokesman to the Queen, for he knew her wayward moods. \"And King\nGunther shall be my king,\" said the Prince, \"and I but his vassal\nuntil we leave Isenland.\"\n\nAnd Hagen and Dankwart, proud men though they were, obeyed in all\nthings the words of the young Prince of the Netherlands.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nSIEGFRIED SUBDUES BRUNHILD\n\n\nThe little ship had sailed on now close beneath the castle, so\nclose indeed that as the King looked up to the window he could catch\nglimpses of beautiful maidens passing to and fro.\n\nSir Siegfried also looked and laughed aloud for glee. It would be but\na little while until Brunhild was won and he was free to return to his\nwinsome lady Kriemhild.\n\nBy this time the maidens in the castle had caught sight of the ship,\nand many bright eyes were peering down upon King Gunther and his three\nbrave comrades.\n\n\"Look well at the fair maidens, sire,\" said Siegfried to the King.\n\"Among them all show me her whom thou wouldst choose most gladly as\nyour bride.\"\n\n\"Seest thou the fairest of the band,\" cried the King, \"she who is clad\nin a white garment? It is she and no other whom I would wed.\"\n\nRight merrily then laughed Siegfried. \"The maiden,\" said he gaily, \"is\nin truth none other than Queen Brunhild herself.\"\n\nThe King and his warriors now moored their vessel and leaped ashore,\nSiegfried leading with him the King's charger. For each knight had\nbrought his steed with him from the fair land of Burgundy.\n\nMore bright than ever beamed the bright eyes of the ladies at the\ncastle window. So fair, so gallant a knight never had they seen,\nthought the damsels as they gazed upon Sir Siegfried. And all the\nwhile King Gunther dreamed their glances were bent on no other than\nhimself.\n\nSiegfried held the noble steed until King Gunther had mounted, and\nthis he did that Queen Brunhild might not know that he was the Prince\nof the Netherlands, owing service to no man. Then going back to the\nship the hero brought his own horse to land, mounted, and rode with\nthe King toward the castle gate.\n\nKing and Prince were clad alike. Their steeds as well as their\ngarments were white as snow, their saddles were bedecked with jewels,\nand on the harness hung bells, all of bright red gold. Their shields\nshone as the sun, their spears they wore before them, their swords\nhung by their sides.\n\nBehind them followed Hagen and Dankwart, their armor black as the\nplumage of the wild raven, their shields strong and mighty.\n\nAs they approached the castle gates were flung wide open, and the\nliegemen of the great Queen came out to greet the strangers with words\nof welcome. They bid their hirelings also take the shields and\nchargers from their guests.\n\nBut when a squire demanded that the strangers should also yield their\nswords, grim Hagen smiled his grimmest, and cried, \"Nay, our swords\nwill we e'en keep lest we have need of them.\" Nor was he too well\npleased when Siegfried told him that the custom in Isenland was\nthat no guest should enter the castle carrying a weapon. It was but\nsullenly that he let his sword be taken away along with his mighty\nshield.\n\nAfter the strangers had been refreshed with wine, her liegemen sent to\nthe Queen to tell her that strange guests had arrived.\n\n\"Who are the strangers who come thus unheralded to my land?\" haughtily\ndemanded Brunhild.\n\nBut no one could tell her who the warriors were, though some murmured\nthat the tallest and fairest might be the great hero Siegfried.\n\nIt may be that the Queen thought that if the knight were indeed\nSiegfried she would revenge herself on him now for the mischievous\npranks he had played the last time he was in her kingdom. In any case\nshe said, \"If the hero is here he shall enter into contest with me,\nand he shall pay for his boldness with his life, for I shall be the\nvictor.\"\n\nThen with five hundred warriors, each with his sword in hand, Brunhild\ncame down to the knights from Burgundy.\n\n\"Be welcome, Siegfried,\" she cried, \"yet wherefore hast thou come\nagain to Isenland?\"\n\n\"I thank thee for thy greeting, lady,\" said the Prince, \"but thou\nhast welcomed me before my lord. He, King Gunther, ruler over the fair\nrealms of Burgundy, hath come hither to wed with thee.\"\n\nBrunhild was displeased that the mighty hero should not himself seek\nto win her as a bride, yet since for all his prowess he seemed but a\nvassal of the King, she answered, \"If thy master can vanquish me in\nthe contests to which I bid him, then I will be his wife, but if I\nconquer thy master, his life, and the lives of his followers will be\nforfeited.\"\n\n\"What dost thou demand of my master?\" asked Hagen.\n\n\"He must hurl the spear with me, throw the stone from the ring, and\nleap to where it has fallen,\" said the Queen.\n\nNow while Brunhild was speaking, Siegfried whispered to the King to\nfear nothing, but to accept the Queen's challenge. \"I will be near\nthough no one will see me, to aid thee in the struggle,\" he whispered.\n\nGunther had such trust in the Prince that he at once cried boldly,\n\"Queen Brunhild, I do not fear even to risk my life that I may win\nthee for my bride.\"\n\nThen the bold maiden called for her armor, but when Gunther saw her\nshield, \"three spans thick with gold and iron, which four chamberlains\ncould hardly bear,\" his courage began to fail.\n\nWhile the Queen donned her silken fighting doublet, which could turn\naside the sharpest spear, Siegfried slipped away unnoticed to the\nship, and swiftly flung around him his Cloak of Darkness. Then unseen\nby all, he hastened back to King Gunther's side.\n\nA great javelin was then given to the Queen, and she began to fight\nwith her suitor, and so hard were her thrusts that but for Siegfried\nthe King would have lost his life.\n\n\"Give me thy shield,\" whispered the invisible hero in the King's ear,\n\"and tell no one that I am here.\" Then as the maiden hurled her spear\nwith all her force against the shield which she thought was held by\nthe King, the shock well-nigh drove both Gunther and his unseen friend\nto their knees.\n\nBut in a moment Siegfried's hand had dealt the Queen such a blow with\nthe handle of his spear (he would not use the sharp point against a\nwoman) that the maiden cried aloud, \"King Gunther, thou hast won this\nfray.\" For as she could not see Siegfried because of his Cloak of\nDarkness, she could not but believe that it was the King who had\nvanquished her.\n\nIn her wrath the Queen now sped to the ring, where lay a stone so\nheavy that it could scarce be lifted by twelve strong men.\n\nBut Brunhild lifted it with ease, and threw it twelve arms' length\nbeyond the spot on which she stood. Then, leaping after it, she\nalighted even farther than she had thrown the stone.\n\nGunther now stood in the ring, and lifted the stone which had again\nbeen placed within it. He lifted it with an effort, but at once\nSiegfried's unseen hand grasped it and threw it with such strength\nthat it dropped even beyond the spot to which it had been flung by the\nQueen. Lifting King Gunther with him Siegfried next jumped far\nbeyond the spot on which the Queen had alighted. And all the warriors\nmarveled to see their Queen thus vanquished by the strange King. For\nyou must remember that not one of them could see that it was Siegfried\nwho had done these deeds of prowess.\n\nNow in the contest, still unseen, Siegfried had taken from the Queen\nher ring and her favorite girdle.\n\nWith angry gestures Brunhild called to her liegemen to come and lay\ntheir weapons down at King Gunther's feet to do him homage. Henceforth\nthey must be his thralls and own him as their lord.\n\nAs soon as the contests were over, Siegfried had slipped back to the\nship and hidden his Cloak of Darkness. Then boldly he came back to the\ngreat hall, and pretending to know nothing of the games begged to be\ntold who had been the victor, if indeed they had already taken place.\n\nWhen he had heard that Queen Brunhild had been vanquished, the hero\nlaughed, and cried gaily, \"Then, noble maiden, thou must go with us to\nRhineland to wed King Gunther.\"\n\n\"A strange way for a vassal to speak,\" thought the angry Queen, and\nshe answered with a proud glance at the knight, \"Nay, that will I not\ndo until I have summoned my kinsmen and my good lieges. For I will\nmyself say farewell to them ere ever I will go to Rhineland.\"\n\nThus heralds were sent throughout Brunhild's realms, and soon from\nmorn to eve her kinsmen and her liegemen rode into the castle, until\nit seemed as though a mighty army were assembling.\n\n\"Does the maiden mean to wage war against us,\" said Hagen grimly. \"I\nlike not the number of her warriors.\"\n\nThen said Siegfried, \"I will leave thee for a little while and go\nacross the sea, and soon will I return with a thousand brave warriors,\nso that no evil may befall us.\"\n\nSo the Prince went down alone to the little ship and set sail across\nthe sea.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nSIEGFRIED AND THE PRINCESS\n\n\nThe ship in which Siegfried set sail drifted on before the wind, while\nthose in Queen Brunhild's castle marveled, for no one was to be seen\non board. This was because the hero had again donned his Cloak of\nDarkness.\n\nOn and on sailed the little ship until at length it drew near to\nthe land of the Nibelungs. Then Siegfried left his vessel and again\nclimbed the mountain-side, where long before he had cut off the heads\nof the little Nibelung princes.\n\nHe reached the cave into which he had thrust the treasure, and knocked\nloudly at the door. The cave was the entrance to Nibelheim the dark,\nlittle town beneath the glad, green grass.\n\nSiegfried might have entered the cave, but he knocked that he might\nsee if the treasure were well guarded.\n\nThen the porter, who was a great giant, when he heard the knock\nbuckled on his armor and opened the door. Seeing, as he thought in his\nhaste, a strange knight standing before him he fell upon him with a\nbar of iron. So strong was the giant that it was with difficulty that\nthe Prince overcame him and bound him hand and foot.\n\nAlberich meanwhile had heard the mighty blows, which indeed had shaken\nNibelheim to its foundations.\n\nNow the dwarf had sworn fealty to Siegfried, and when he, as the giant\nhad done, mistook the Prince for a stranger, he seized a heavy whip\nwith a gold handle and rushed upon him, smiting his shield with the\nknotted whip until it fell to pieces.\n\nToo pleased that his treasures were so well defended to be angry,\nSiegfried now seized the little dwarf by his beard, and pulled it\nso long and so hard that Alberich was forced to cry for mercy. Then\nSiegfried bound him hand and foot as he had done the giant.\n\nAlberich, poor little dwarf, gnashed his teeth with rage. Who would\nguard the treasure now, and who would warn his master that a strong\nman had found his way to Nibelheim?\n\nBut in the midst of his fears he heard the stranger's merry laugh.\nNay, it was no stranger, none but the hero-prince could laugh thus\nmerrily.\n\n\"I am Siegfried your master,\" then said the Prince. \"I did but test\nthy faithfulness, Alberich,\" and laughing still, the hero undid the\ncords with which he had bound the giant and the dwarf.\n\n\"Call me here quickly the Nibelung warriors,\" cried Siegfried, \"for I\nhave need of them.\" And soon thirty thousand warriors stood before him\nin shining armor.\n\nChoosing one thousand of the strongest and biggest, the Prince marched\nwith them down to the seashore. There they embarked in ships and\nsailed away to Isenland.\n\nNow it chanced that Queen Brunhild was walking on the terrace of her\nsea-guarded castle with King Gunther when she saw a number of sails\napproaching.\n\n\"Whose can these ships be?\" she cried in quick alarm.\n\n\"These are my warriors who have followed me from Burgundy,\" answered\nthe King, for thus had Siegfried bidden him speak.\n\n\"We will go to welcome the fleet,\" said Brunhild, and together they\nmet the brave Nibelung army and lodged them in Isenland.\n\n\"Now will I give of my silver and my gold to my liegemen and to\nGunther's warriors,\" said Queen Brunhild, and she held out the keys\nof her treasury to Dankwart that he might do her will. But so lavishly\ndid the knight bestow her gold and her costly gems and her rich\nraiment upon the warriors that the Queen grew angry.\n\n\"Naught shall I have left to take with me to Rhineland,\" she cried\naloud in her vexation.\n\n\"In Burgundy,\" answered Hagen, \"there is gold enough and to spare.\nThou wilt not need the treasures of Isenland.\"\n\nBut these words did not content the Queen. She would certainly take at\nleast twenty coffers of gold as well as jewels and silks with her to\nKing Gunther's land.\n\nAt length, leaving Isenland to the care of her brother, Queen\nBrunhild, with twenty hundred of her own warriors as a bodyguard,\nwith eighty-six dames and one hundred maidens, set out for the royal\ncity of Worms.\n\nFor nine days the great company journeyed homeward, and then King\nGunther entreated Siegfried to be his herald to Worms.\n\n\"Beg Queen Ute and the Princess Kriemhild,\" said the King, \"beg them\nto ride forth to meet my bride and to prepare to hold high festival in\nhonor of the wedding-feast.\"\n\nThus Siegfried with four-and-twenty knights sailed on more swiftly\nthan the other ships, and landing at the mouth of the river Rhine,\nrode hastily toward the royal city.\n\nThe Queen and her daughter, clad in their robes of state, received the\nhero, and his heart was glad, for once again he stood in the presence\nof his dear lady, Kriemhild.\n\n\"Be welcome, my Lord Siegfried,\" she cried, \"thou worthy knight,\nbe welcome. But where is my brother? Has he been vanquished by the\nwarrior-queen? Oh, woe is me if he is lost, wo is me that ever I\nwas born,\" and the tears rolled down the maiden's cheeks.\n\n\"Nay, now,\" said the Prince, \"thy brother is well and of good cheer.\nI have come, a herald of glad tidings. For even now the King is on his\nway to Worms, bringing with him his hard-won bride.\"\n\nThen the Princess dried her tears, and graciously did she bid the hero\nto sit by her side.\n\n\"I would I might give thee a reward for thy services,\" said the gentle\nmaiden, \"but too rich art thou to receive my gold.\"\n\n\"A gift from thy hands would gladden my heart,\" said the gallant\nPrince.\n\nBlithely then did Kriemhild send for four-and-twenty buckles, all\ninlaid with precious stones, and these did she give to Siegfried.\n\nSiegfried bent low before the lady Kriemhild, for well did he love the\ngracious giver, yet would he not keep for himself her gifts, but gave\nthem, in his courtesy, to her four-and-twenty maidens.\n\nThen the Prince told Queen Ute that the King begged her and the\nPrincess to ride forth from Worms to greet his bride, and to prepare\nto hold high festival in the royal city.\n\n\"It shall be done even as the King desires,\" said the Queen, while\nKriemhild sat silent, smiling with gladness, because her knight Sir\nSiegfried had come home.\n\nIn joy and merriment the days flew by, while the court at Worms\nprepared to hold high festival in honor of King Gunther's matchless\nbride.\n\nAs the royal ships drew near, Queen Ute and the Princess Kriemhild,\naccompanied by many a gallant knight, rode along the banks of the\nRhine to greet Queen Brunhild.\n\nAlready the King had disembarked, and was leading his bride toward his\ngracious mother. Courteously did Queen Ute welcome the stranger, while\nKriemhild kissed her and clasped her in her arms.\n\nSome, as they gazed upon the lovely maidens, said that the warlike\nQueen Brunhild was more beautiful than the gentle Princess Kriemhild,\nbut others, and these were the wiser, said that none could excel the\npeerless sister of the King.\n\nIn the great plain of Worms silk tents and gay pavilions had been\nplaced. And there the ladies took shelter from the heat, while before\nthem knights and warriors held a gay tournament. Then, in the cool of\nthe evening, a gallant train of lords and ladies, they rode toward the\ncastle at Worms.\n\nQueen Ute and her daughter went to their own apartments, while the\nKing with Brunhild went into the banquet-hall where the wedding-feast\nwas spread.\n\nBut ere the feast had begun, Siegfried came and stood before the King.\n\n\"Sire,\" he said, \"hast thou forgotten thy promise, that when Brunhild\nentered the royal city thy lady sister should be my bride?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the King, \"my royal word do I ever keep,\" and going out\ninto the hall he sent for the Princess.\n\n\"Dear sister,\" said Gunther, as she bowed before him, \"I have pledged\nmy word to a warrior that thou wilt become his bride, wilt thou help\nme to keep my promise?\" Now Siegfried was standing by the King's side\nas he spoke.\n\nThen the gentle maiden answered meekly, \"Thy will, dear brother,\nis ever mine. I will take as lord him to whom thou hast promised my\nhand.\" And she glanced shyly at Siegfried, for surely this was the\nwarrior to whom her royal brother had pledged his word.\n\nRight glad then was the King, and Siegfried grew rosy with delight\nas he received the lady's troth. Then together they went to\nthe banquet-hall, and on a throne next to King Gunther sat the\nhero-prince, the lady Kriemhild by his side.\n\nWhen the banquet was ended, the King was wedded to Queen Brunhild, and\nSiegfried to the maiden whom he loved so well, and though he had no\ncrown to place upon her brow, the Princess was well content.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO OF FRANCE\n\n\n\n\nROLAND\n\nADAPTED BY H.E. MARSHALL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nBLANCANDRIN'S MISSION\n\n\nFor seven long years the great Emperor Charlemagne had been fighting\nin Spain against the Saracens; Saragossa alone remained unconquered,\nbut word had gone forth that it, too, was doomed.\n\nKing Marsil, not knowing how to save his city from the conqueror,\ncalled a council of his wise men. Blancandrin, a knight of great\nvalor, was chosen with ten others to set out with olive-branches in\ntheir hands, followed by a great train of slaves bearing presents, to\nseek the court of the great Christian King and sue for peace.\n\nBending low before Charlemagne, Blancandrin promised for King Marsil\nvassalage to the Emperor and baptism in the name of the Holy Christ.\nTo assure the truth of his words, he said \"We will give thee hostages,\nI will even send my own son if we keep not faith with thee.\"\n\nIn the morning Charlemagne called his wise men and told them the\nmessage of Blancandrin.\n\nThen Roland, one of the twelve chosen knights and the nephew of\nCharlemagne, rose flushed with anger and cried, \"Believe not this\nMarsil, he was ever a traitor. Carry the war to Saragossa. War! I say\nwar!\"\n\nGanelon a knight, who hated Roland, strode to the foot of the throne,\nsaying, \"Listen not to the counsel of fools but accept King Marsil's\ngifts and promises.\"\n\nFollowing the counsel of Duke Naimes the wisest of the court,\nCharlemagne declared that some one should be sent to King Marsil and\nasked the lords whom he should send.\n\n\"Send me,\" cried Roland. \"Nay,\" said Oliver, \"let me go rather.\" But\nthe Emperor said, \"Not a step shall ye go, either one or other of\nyou.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Roland, \"if I may not go, then send Ganelon my stepfather.\"\n\"Good!\" replied the great Emperor, \"Ganelon it shall be.\"\n\nGanelon trembled with passion and said, \"this is Roland's work,\" for\nhe knew he would never return alive to his wife and child. The quarrel\nbetween Roland and Ganelon was bitter indeed. \"I hate thee,\" Ganelon\nhissed at last. \"I hate thee!\" Then, struggling to be calm, he turned\nto the Emperor and said, \"I am ready to do thy will.\"\n\n\"Fair Sir Ganelon,\" said Charlemagne, \"this is my message to the\nheathen King Marsil. Say to him that he shall bend the knee to gentle\nChrist and be baptized in His name. Then will I give him full half of\nSpain to hold in fief. Over the other half Count Roland, my nephew,\nwell beloved, shall reign.\"\n\nWithout a word of farewell Ganelon went to his own house. There he\nclad himself in his finest armor. Commending his wife and child to the\ncare of the knights who pressed round to bid him Godspeed, Ganelon,\nwith bent head, turned slowly from their sight and rode to join the\nheathen Blancandrin.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nGANELON'S TREASON\n\n\nAs Ganelon and Blancandrin rode along together beneath the olive-trees\nand through the fruitful vineyards of sunny Spain, the heathen began\nto talk cunningly. \"What a wonderful knight is thy Emperor,\" he said.\n\"He hath conquered the world from sea to sea. But why cometh he within\nour borders? Why left he us not in peace?\"\n\n\"It was his will,\" replied Ganelon. \"There is no man in all the world\nso great as he. None may stand against him.\"\n\n\"You Franks are gallant men indeed,\" said Blancandrin, \"but your dukes\nand counts deserve blame when they counsel the Emperor to fight with\nus now.\"\n\n\"There is none deserveth that blame save Roland,\" said Ganelon. \"Such\npride as his ought to be punished. Oh, that some one would slay him!\"\nhe cried fiercely. \"Then should we have peace.\"\n\n\"This Roland is very cruel,\" said Blancandrin, \"to wish to conquer all\nthe world as he does. But in whom does he trust for help?\"\n\n\"In the Franks,\" said Ganelon. \"They love him with such a great love\nthat they think he can do no wrong. He giveth them gold and silver,\njewels and armor, so they serve him. Even to the Emperor himself he\nmaketh rich presents. He will not rest until he hath conquered all the\nworld, from east to west.\"\n\nThe Saracen looked at Ganelon out of the corner of his eye. He was a\nnoble knight, but now that his face was dark with wrath and jealousy,\nhe looked like a felon.\n\n\"Listen thou to me,\" said Blancandrin softly. \"Dost wish to be avenged\nupon Roland? Then, by Mahomet! deliver him into our hands. King Marsil\nis very generous; for such a kindness he will willingly give unto thee\nof his countless treasure.\"\n\nGanelon heard the tempter's voice, but he rode onward as if unheeding,\nhis chin sunken upon his breast, his eyes dark with hatred.\n\nBut long ere the ride was ended and Saragossa reached, the heathen\nlord and Christian knight had plotted together for the ruin of Roland.\n\nAt length the journey was over, and Ganelon lighted down before King\nMarsil, who awaited him beneath the shadow of his orchard-trees,\nseated upon a marble throne covered with rich silken rugs. Around\nhim crowded his nobles, silent and eager to learn how Blancandrin had\nfared upon his errand.\n\nBowing low, Blancandrin approached the throne, leading Ganelon by the\nhand. \"Greeting,\" he said, \"in the name of Mahomet. Well, O Marsil,\nhave I done thy behest to the mighty Christian King. But save that he\nraised his hands to heaven and gave thanks to his God, no answer did\nhe render to me. But unto thee he sendeth one of his nobles, a very\npowerful man in France. From him shalt thou learn if thou shalt have\npeace or war.\"\n\n\"Let him speak,\" said King Marsil. \"We will listen.\"\n\n\"Greeting,\" said Ganelon, \"in the name of God--the God of glory whom\nwe ought all to adore. Listen ye to the command of Charlemagne: Thou,\nO King, shalt receive the Christian faith, then half of Spain will he\nleave to thee to hold in fief. The other half shall be given to Count\nRoland--a haughty companion thou wilt have there. If thou wilt not\nagree to this, Charlemagne will besiege Saragossa, and thou shalt be\nled captive to Aix, there to die a vile and shameful death.\"\n\nKing Marsil shook with anger and turned pale. In his hand he held an\narrow fledged with gold. Now, springing from his throne, he raised his\narm as if he would strike Ganelon. But the knight laid his hand upon\nhis sword and drew it half out of the scabbard. \"Sword,\" he cried,\n\"thou art bright and beautiful; oft have I carried thee at the court\nof my King. It shall never be said of me that I died alone in a\nforeign land, among fierce foes, ere thou wert dipped in the blood of\ntheir bravest and best.\"\n\nFor a few moments the heathen King and the Christian knight eyed each\nother in deep silence. Then the air was filled with shouts. \"Part\nthem, part them!\" cried the Saracens.\n\nThe noblest of the Saracens rushed between their King and Ganelon. \"It\nwas a foolish trick to raise thy hand against the Christian knight,\"\nsaid Marsil's calif, seating him once more upon his throne. \"'Twere\nwell to listen to what he hath to say.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Ganelon proudly, \"thinkest thou for all the threats in the\nwide world I will be silent and not speak the message which the mighty\nCharlemagne sendeth to his mortal enemy? Nay, I would speak, if ye\nwere all against me.\" And keeping his right hand still upon the golden\npommel of his sword, with his left he unclasped his cloak of fur and\nsilk and cast it upon the steps of the throne. There, in his strength\nand splendor, he stood defying them all.\n\n\"'Tis a noble knight!\" cried the heathen in admiration.\n\nThen once more turning to King Marsil, Ganelon gave him the Emperor's\nletter. As he broke the seal and read, Marsil's brow grew black with\nanger. \"Listen, my lords,\" he cried; \"because I slew yonder insolent\nChristian knights, the Emperor Charlemagne bids me beware his wrath.\nHe commands that I shall send unto him as hostage mine uncle the\ncalif.\"\n\n\"This is some madness of Ganelon!\" cried a heathen knight. \"He is only\nworthy of death. Give him unto me, and I will see that justice is done\nupon him.\" So saying, he laid his hand upon his sword.\n\nLike a flash of lightning Ganelon's good blade Murglies sprang from\nits sheath, and with his back against a tree, the Christian knight\nprepared to defend himself to the last. But once again the fight was\nstopped, and this time Blancandrin led Ganelon away.\n\nThen, walking alone with the King, Blancandrin told of all that he\nhad done, and of how even upon the way hither, Ganelon had promised\nto betray Roland, who was Charlemagne's greatest warrior. \"And if he\ndie,\" said Blancandrin, \"then is our peace sure.\"\n\n\"Bring hither the Christian knight to me,\" cried King Marsil.\n\nSo Blancandrin went, and once more leading Ganelon by the hand,\nbrought him before the King.\n\n\"Fair Sir Ganelon,\" said the wily heathen, \"I did a rash and foolish\nthing when in anger I raised my hand to strike at thee. As a token\nthat thou wilt forget it, accept this cloak of sable. It is worth five\nhundred pieces of gold.\" And lifting a rich cloak, he clasped it about\nthe neck of Ganelon.\n\n\"I may not refuse it,\" said the knight, looking down. \"May Heaven\nreward thee!\"\n\n\"Trust me, Sir Ganelon,\" said King Marsil, \"I love thee well. But keep\nthou our counsels secret. I would hear thee talk of Charlemagne. He is\nvery old, is he not?--more than two hundred years old. He must be worn\nout and weary, for he hath fought so many battles and humbled so many\nkings in the dust. He ought to rest now from his labors in his city of\nAix.\"\n\nGanelon shook his head. \"Nay,\" he said, \"such is not Charlemagne. All\nthose who have seen him know that our Emperor is a true warrior. I\nknow not how to praise him enough before you, for there is nowhere a\nman so full of valor and of goodness. I would rather die than leave\nhis service.\"\n\n\"In truth,\" said Marsil, \"I marvel greatly. I had thought that\nCharlemagne had been old and worn. Then if it is not so, when will he\ncease his wars?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Ganelon, \"that he will never do so long as his nephew\nRoland lives. Under the arch of heaven there bides no baron so\nsplendid or so proud. Oliver, his friend, also is full of prowess and\nof valor. With them and his peers beside him, Charlemagne feareth no\nman.\"\n\n\"Fair Sir Ganelon,\" said King Marsil boldly, knowing his hatred, \"tell\nme, how shall I slay Roland?\"\n\n\"That I can tell thee,\" said Ganelon. \"Promise thou the Emperor all\nthat he asketh of thee. Send hostages and presents to him. He will\nthen return to France. His army will pass through the valley of\nRoncesvalles. I will see to it that Roland and his friend Oliver lead\nthe rear-guard. They will lag behind the rest of the army, then there\nshalt thou fall upon them with all thy mighty men. I say not but that\nthou shalt lose many a knight, for Roland and his peers will fight\nright manfully. But in the end, being so many more than they, thou\nshalt conquer. Roland shall lie dead, and slaying him thou wilt cut\noff the right arm of Charlemagne. Then farewell to the wondrous army\nof France. Never again shall Charlemagne gather such a company, and\nwithin the borders of Spain there shall be peace for evermore.\"\n\nWhen Ganelon had finished speaking, the King threw his arms about his\nneck and kissed him. Then turning to his slaves, he commanded them to\nbring great treasure of gold, and silver and precious stones, and lay\nit at the feet of the knight.\n\n\"But swear to me,\" said Marsil, \"that Roland shall be in the\nrear-guard, and swear to me his death.\"\n\nAnd Ganelon, laying his hand upon his sword Murglies, swore by the\nholy relics therein, that he would bring Roland to death.\n\nThen came a heathen knight who gave to Ganelon a sword, the hilt of\nwhich glittered with gems so that the eyes were dazzled in looking\nupon it. \"Let but Roland be in the rear-guard,\" he said, \"and it is\nthine.\" Then he kissed Ganelon on both cheeks.\n\nSoon another heathen knight followed him, laughing joyfully. \"Here is\nmy helmet,\" he cried. \"It is the richest and best ever beaten out\nof steel. It is thine so that thou truly bring Roland to death and\nshame.\" And he, too, kissed Ganelon.\n\nNext came Bramimonde, Marsil's queen. She was very beautiful. Her dark\nhair was strung with pearls, and her robes of silk and gold swept\nthe ground. Her hands were full of glittering gems. Bracelets and\nnecklaces of gold, rubies and sapphires fell from her white fingers.\n\"Take these,\" she said, \"to thy fair lady. Tell her that Queen\nBramimonde sends them to her because of the great service thou hast\ndone.\" And bowing low, she poured the sparkling jewels into Ganelon's\nhands. Thus did the heathen reward Ganelon for his treachery.\n\n\"Ho there!\" called King Marsil to his treasurer, \"are my gifts for the\nEmperor ready?\"\n\n\"Yea, Sire,\" answered the treasurer, \"seven hundred camels' load of\nsilver and gold and twenty hostages, the noblest of the land; all are\nready.\"\n\nThen King Marsil leant his hand on Ganelon's shoulder. \"Wise art thou\nand brave,\" he said, \"but in the name of all thou holdest sacred,\nforget not thy promise unto me. See, I give thee ten mules laden with\nrichest treasure, and every year I will send to thee as much again.\nNow take the keys of my city gates, take the treasure and the hostages\nmade ready for thine Emperor. Give them all to him, tell him that I\nyield to him all that he asks, but forget not thy promise that Roland\nshall ride in the rear-guard.\"\n\nImpatient to be gone, Ganelon shook the King's hand from his shoulder.\n\"Let me tarry no longer,\" he cried. Then springing to horse he rode\nswiftly away.\n\nMeanwhile Charlemagne lay encamped, awaiting Marsil's answer. And\nas one morning he sat beside his tent, with his lords and mighty men\naround him, a great cavalcade appeared in the distance. And presently\nGanelon, the traitor, drew rein before him. Softly and smoothly he\nbegan his treacherous tale. \"God keep you,\" he cried; \"here I bring\nthe keys of Saragossa, with treasure rich and rare, seven hundred\ncamels' load of silver and gold and twenty hostages of the noblest of\nthe heathen host. And King Marsil bids me say, thou shalt not blame\nhim that his uncle the calif comes not too, for he is dead. I myself\nsaw him as he set forth with three hundred thousand armed men upon the\nsea. Their vessels sank ere they had gone far from the land, and he\nand they were swallowed in the waves.\" Thus Ganelon told his lying\ntale.\n\n\"Now praised be Heaven!\" cried Charlemagne. \"And thanks, my trusty\nGanelon, for well hast thou sped. At length my wars are done, and home\nto gentle France we ride.\"\n\nSo the trumpets were sounded, and soon the great army, with pennons\nwaving and armor glittering in the sunshine, was rolling onward\nthrough the land, like a gleaming mighty river.\n\nBut following the Christian army, through valleys deep and dark, by\npathways secret and unknown, crept the heathen host. They were clad\nin shining steel from head to foot, swords were by their sides, lances\nwere in their hands, and bitter hatred in their hearts. Four hundred\nthousand strong they marched in stealthy silence. And, alas! the\nFranks knew it not.\n\nWhen night came the Franks encamped upon the plain. And high upon the\nmountain-sides, in a dark forest the heathen kept watch upon them.\n\nIn the midst of his army King Charlemagne lay, and as he slept he\ndreamed he stood alone in the valley of Roncesvalles, spear in hand.\nThere to him came Ganelon, who seized his spear and broke it in pieces\nbefore his eyes, and the noise of the breaking was as the noise of\nthunder. In his sleep Charlemagne stirred uneasily, but he did not\nwake. The vision passed, and again he dreamed. It seemed to him\nthat he was now in his own city of Aix. Suddenly from out a forest a\nleopard sprang upon him. But even as its fangs closed upon his arm,\na faithful hound came bounding from his hall and fell upon the\nsavage beast with fury. Fiercely the hound grappled with the leopard.\nSnarling and growling they rolled over and over. Now the hound was\nuppermost, now the leopard. \"Tis a splendid fight!\" cried the Franks\nwho watched. But who should win, the Emperor knew not, for the vision\nfaded, and still he slept.\n\nThe night passed and dawn came. A thousand trumpets sounded, the camp\nwas all astir, and the Franks made ready once more to march.\n\nBut Charlemagne was grave and thoughtful, musing on the dream that he\nhad dreamed. \"My knights and barons,\" he said, \"mark well the country\nthrough which we pass. These valleys are steep and straight. It would\ngo ill with us did the false Saracen forget his oath, and fall upon us\nas we pass. To whom therefore shall I trust the rear-guard that we may\nmarch in surety?\"\n\n\"Give the command to my stepson, Roland, there is none so brave as\nhe,\" said Ganelon.\n\nAs Charlemagne listened he looked at Ganelon darkly. \"Thou art a very\ndemon,\" he said. \"What rage possesseth thee? And if I give command of\nthe rear to Roland, who, then, shall lead the van?\"\n\n\"There is Ogier the Dane,\" said Ganelon quickly, \"who better?\"\n\nStill Charlemagne looked darkly at him. He would not that Roland\nshould hear, for well he knew his adventurous spirit.\n\nBut already Roland had heard. \"I ought to love thee well, Sir\nStepsire,\" he cried, \"for this day hast thou named me for honor. I\nwill take good heed that our Emperor lose not the least of his men,\nnor charger, palfrey, nor mule that is not paid for by stroke of\nsword.\"\n\n\"That know I right well,\" replied Ganelon, \"therefore have I named\nthee.\"\n\nThen to Charlemagne Roland turned, \"Give me the bow of office, Sire,\nand let me take command,\" he said.\n\nBut the Emperor sat with bowed head. In and out of his long white\nbeard he twisted his fingers. Tears stood in his eyes, and he kept\nsilence. Such was his love for Roland and fear lest evil should befall\nhim.\n\nThen spoke Duke Naimes, \"Give the command unto Roland, Sire; there is\nnone better.\"\n\nSo, silently, Charlemagne held out the bow of office, and kneeling,\nRoland took it.\n\nThen was Ganelon's wicked heart glad.\n\n\"Nephew,\" said Charlemagne, \"half my host I leave with thee.\"\n\n\"Nay, Sire,\" answered Roland proudly, \"twenty thousand only shall\nremain with me. The rest of ye may pass onward in all surety, for\nwhile I live ye have naught to fear.\"\n\nThen in his heart Ganelon laughed.\n\nSo the mighty army passed onward through the vale of Roncesvalles\nwithout doubt or dread, for did not Roland the brave guard the rear?\nWith him remained Oliver his friend, Turpin, the bold Archbishop of\nRheims, all the peers, and twenty thousand more of the bravest knights\nof France.\n\nAs the great army wound along, the hearts of the men were glad. For\nseven long years they had been far from home, and now soon they would\nsee their dear ones again. But the Emperor rode among them sadly with\nbowed head. His fingers again twined themselves in his long white\nbeard, tears once more stood in his eyes. Beside him rode Duke Naimes.\n\"Tell me, Sire,\" he said, \"what grief oppresseth thee?\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Charlemagne, \"by Ganelon France is betrayed. This night I\ndreamed I saw him break my lance in twain. And this same Ganelon it\nis that puts my nephew in the rear-guard. And I, I have left him in a\nstrange land. If he die, where shall I find such another?\"\n\nIt was in vain that Duke Naimes tried to comfort the Emperor. He would\nnot be comforted, and all the hearts of that great company were filled\nwith fearful, boding dread for Roland.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nROLAND'S PRIDE\n\n\nMeanwhile King Marsil was gathering all his host. From far and near\ncame the heathen knights, all impatient to fight, each one eager to\nhave the honor of slaying Roland with his own hand, each swearing that\nnone of the twelve peers should ever again see France.\n\nAmong them was a great champion called Chernuble. He was huge and ugly\nand his strength was such that he could lift with ease a burden which\nfour mules could scarcely carry. His face was inky black, his lips\nthick and hideous, and his coarse long hair reached the ground. It was\nsaid that in the land from whence he came, the sun never shone, the\nrain never fell, and the very stones were black as coal. He too,\nswearing that the Franks should die and that France should perish,\njoined the heathen host.\n\nVery splendid were the Saracens as they moved along in the gleaming\nsunshine. Gold and silver shone upon their armor, pennons of white and\npurple floated over them, and from a thousand trumpets sounded their\nbattle-song.\n\nTo the ears of the Frankish knights the sound was borne as they rode\nthrough the valley of Roncesvalles.\n\n\"Sir Comrade,\" said Oliver, \"it seemeth me there is battle at hand\nwith the Saracen foe.\"\n\n\"Please Heaven it may be so,\" said Roland. \"Our duty is to hold this\npost for our Emperor. Let us strike mighty blows, that nothing be said\nor sung of us in scorn. Let us fight these heathen for our country and\nour faith.\"\n\nAs Oliver heard the sounds of battle come nearer, he climbed to the\ntop of the hill, so that he could see far over the country. There\nbefore him he saw the Saracens marching in pride. Their helmets,\ninlaid with gold, gleamed in the sun. Gaily painted shields, hauberks\nof shining steel, spears and pennons waved and shone, rank upon rank\nin countless numbers.\n\nQuickly Oliver came down from the hill, and went back to the Frankish\narmy. \"I have seen the heathen,\" he said to Roland. \"Never on earth\nhath such a host been gathered. They march upon us many hundred\nthousand strong, with shield and spear and sword. Such battle as\nawaiteth us have we never fought before.\"\n\n\"Let him be accursed who fleeth!\" cried the Franks. \"There be few\namong us who fear death.\"\n\n\"It is Ganelon the felon, who hath betrayed us,\" said Oliver, \"let him\nbe accursed.\"\n\n\"Hush thee, Oliver,\" said Roland; \"he is my stepsire. Let us hear no\nevil of him.\"\n\n\"The heathen are in fearful force,\" said Oliver, \"and our Franks are\nbut few. Friend Roland, sound upon thy horn. Then will Charlemagne\nhear and return with all his host to help us.\"\n\nFor round Roland's neck there hung a magic horn of carved ivory. If he\nblew upon this in case of need, the sound of it would be carried over\nhill and dale, far, far onward. If he sounded it now, Charlemagne\nwould very surely hear, and return from his homeward march.\n\nBut Roland would not listen to Oliver. \"Nay,\" he said, \"I should\nindeed be mad to sound upon my horn. If I call for help, I, Roland, I\nshould lose my fame in all fair France. Nay, I will not sound, but\nI shall strike such blows with my good sword Durindal that the blade\nshall be red to the gold of the hilt. Our Franks, too, shall strike\nsuch blows that the heathen shall rue the day. I tell thee, they be\nall dead men.\"\n\n\"Oh Roland, friend, wind thy horn,\" pleaded Oliver. \"To the ear of\nCharlemagne shall the sound be borne, and he and all his knights will\nreturn to help us.\"\n\n\"Now Heaven forbid that my kin should ever be pointed at in scorn\nbecause of me,\" said Roland, \"or that fair France should fall to such\ndishonor. No! I will not sound upon my horn, but I shall strike such\nblows with my sword Durindal that the blade shall be dyed red in the\nblood of the heathen.\"\n\nIn vain Oliver implored. \"I see no dishonor shouldst thou wind thy\nhorn,\" he said, \"for I have beheld the Saracen host. The valleys and\nthe hills and all the plains are covered with them. They are many and\ngreat, and we are but a little company.\"\n\n\"So much the better,\" cried Roland, \"my desire to fight them grows\nthe greater. All the angels of heaven forbid that France, through me,\nshould lose one jot of fame. Death is better than dishonor. Let us\nstrike such blows as our Emperor loveth to see.\"\n\nRoland was rash as Oliver was wise, but both were knights of wondrous\ncourage, and now Oliver pleaded no more. \"Look,\" he cried, \"look where\nthe heathen come! Thou hast scorned, Roland, to sound thy horn, and\nour noble men will this day do their last deeds of bravery.\"\n\n\"Hush!\" cried Roland, \"shame to him who weareth a coward's heart.\"\n\nAnd now Archbishop Turpin spurred his horse to a little hill in\nfront of the army. \"My lords and barons,\" he cried, turning to them,\n\"Charlemagne hath left us here to guard the homeward march of his\narmy. He is our King, and we are bound to die for him, if so need be.\nBut now, before ye fight, confess your sins, and pray God to forgive\nthem. If ye die, ye die as martyrs. In God's great paradise your\nplaces await you.\"\n\nThen the Franks leapt from their horses and kneeled upon the ground\nwhile the archbishop blessed them, and absolved them from all their\nsins. \"For penance I command that ye strike the heathen full sore,\" he\nsaid.\n\nThen springing from their knees the Franks leapt again into their\nsaddles, ready now to fight and die.\n\n\"Friend,\" said Roland, turning to Oliver, \"thou wert right. It is\nGanelon who is the traitor. But the Emperor will avenge us upon him.\nAs for Marsil, he deemeth that he hath bought us, and that Ganelon\nhath sold us unto him. But he will find it is with our swords that we\nwill pay him.\"\n\nAnd now the battle began. \"Montjoie!\" shouted the Franks. It was the\nEmperor's own battle-cry. It means \"My joy,\" and came from the name of\nhis famous sword Joyeuse or joyous. This sword was the most wonderful\never seen. Thirty times a day the shimmering light with which it\nglowed changed. In the gold of the hilt was encased the head of the\nspear with which the side of Christ had been pierced. And because of\nthis great honor the Emperor called his sword Joyeuse, and from that\nthe Franks took their battle-cry \"Montjoie.\" Now shouting it, and\nplunging spurs into their horses' sides, they dashed upon the foe.\nNever before had been such pride of chivalry, such splendor of\nknightly grace.\n\nWith boasting words, King Marsil's nephew came riding in front of the\nbattle. \"Ho, felon Franks!\" he cried, \"ye are met at last. Betrayed\nand sold are ye by your King. This day hath France lost her fair fame,\nand from Charlemagne is his right hand torn.\"\n\nRoland heard him. With spur in side and slackened rein, he dashed upon\nthe heathen, mad with rage. Through shield and hauberk pierced his\nspear, and the Saracen fell dead ere his scoffing words were done.\n\"Thou dastard!\" cried Roland, \"no traitor is Charlemagne, but a right\nnoble king and cavalier.\"\n\nKing Marsil's brother, sick at heart to see his nephew fall, rode out\nwith mocking words upon his lips. \"This day is the honor of France\nlost,\" he sneered.\n\nBut Oliver struck his golden spurs into his steed's side! \"Caitiff,\nthy taunts are little worth,\" he cried, and, pierced through shield\nand buckler, the heathen fell.\n\nBishop Turpin, too, wielded both sword and lance. \"Thou lying coward,\nbe silent evermore!\" he cried, as a scoffing heathen king fell beneath\nhis blows. \"Charlemagne our lord is true and good, and no Frank shall\nflee this day.\"\n\n\"Montjoie! Montjoie!\" sounded high above the clang of battle, as\nheathen after heathen was laid low. Limbs were lopped, armor flew in\nsplinters. Many a heathen knight was cloven from brow to saddle bow.\nThe plain was strewn with the dying and the dead.\n\nIn Roland's hand his lance was shivered to the haft. Throwing the\nsplintered wood away, he drew his famous Durindal. The naked blade\nshone in the sun and fell upon the helmet of Chernuble, Marsil's\nmighty champion. The sparkling gems with which it shone were scattered\non the grass. Through cheek and chine, through flesh and bone, drove\nthe shining steel, and Chernuble fell upon the ground, a black and\nhideous heap. \"Lie there, caitiff!\" cried Roland, \"thy Mahomet cannot\nsave thee. Not unto such as thou is the victory.\"\n\nOn through the press rode Roland. Durindal flashed and fell and\nflashed again, and many a heathen bit the dust. Oliver, too, did\nmarvelous deeds. His spear, as Roland's, was shivered into atoms. But\nscarcely knowing what he did, he fought still with the broken shaft,\nand with it brought many a heathen to his death.\n\n\"Comrade, what dost thou?\" said Roland. \"Is it now the time to fight\nwith staves? Where is thy sword called Hauteclere with its crystal\npommel and golden guard?\"\n\n\"I lacked time in which to draw it,\" replied Oliver, \"there was such\nneed to strike blows fast and hard.\"\n\nBut now he drew his shining Hauteclere from its scabbard, and with it\nhe dealt such blows that Roland cried, \"My brother art thou, Oliver,\nfrom henceforth. Ah! such blows our Emperor would dearly love to see.\"\n\nFurious and more furious waxed the fight. On all sides might be heard\nthe cry of \"Montjoie! Montjoie!\" and many a blow did Frank and heathen\ngive and take. But although thousands of Saracens lay dead, the Franks\ntoo had lost many of their bravest knights. Shield and spear, banner\nand pennon, broken, bloodstained and trampled, strewed the field.\n\nFiercer, wilder still, the battle grew. Roland, Oliver, Archbishop\nTurpin and all the twelve peers of France fought in the thickest of\nthe press. Many of the heathen fled, but even in flight they were cut\ndown.\n\nMeanwhile over France burst a fearful storm. Thunder rolled, lightning\nflashed, the very earth shook and trembled. There was not a town in\nall the land but the walls of it were cracked and riven. The sky grew\nblack at midday, rain and hail in torrents swept the land. \"It is the\nend of the world,\" the people whispered in trembling fear.\n\nAlas, they knew not! It was the earth's great mourning for the death\nof Roland, which was nigh.\n\nThe battle waxed horrible. The Saracens fled, and the Franks pursued\ntill of that great heathen host but one was left. Of the Saracen army\nwhich had set out in such splendor, four hundred thousand strong, one\nheathen king alone remained. And he, King Margaris, sorely wounded,\nhis spear broken, his shield pierced and battered, fled with the\ndireful news to King Marsil.\n\nThe Franks had won the day, and now mournfully over the plain they\nmoved, seeking their dead and dying comrades. Weary men and worn were\nthey, sad at the death of many brother knights, yet glad at the might\nand victory of France.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nROLAND SOUNDS HIS HORN\n\n\nAlone, King Margaris fled, weary and wounded, until he reached King\nMarsil, and fell panting at his feet.\n\n\"Ride! ride! Sire,\" he cried, \"thy army is shattered, thy knights to\nthe last man lie dead upon the field; but thou wilt find the Franks\nin evil plight. Full half of them also lie dead. The rest are sore\nwounded and weary. Their armor is broken, their swords and spears are\nshattered. They have naught wherewith to defend themselves. To avenge\nthe death of thy knights were now easy. Ride! oh, ride!\"\n\nIn terrible wrath and sorrow King Marsil gathered a new army. In\ntwenty columns through the valleys they came marching. The sun shone\nupon the gems and goldwork of their helmets, upon lances and pennons,\nupon buckler and embroidered surcoat. Seven thousand trumpets sounded\nto the charge, and the wind carried the clamor afar.\n\n\"Oliver, my comrade,\" said Roland, when he heard it, \"Oliver, my\nbrother, the traitor Ganelon hath sworn our death. Here his treachery\nis plainly to be seen. But the Emperor will bring upon him a terrible\nvengeance. As for us, we must fight again a battle fierce and keen.\nI will strike with my trusty Durindal and thou with thy Hauteclere\nbright. We have already carried them with honor in many battles. With\nthem we have won many a victory. No man may say scorn of us.\"\n\nAnd so once again the Franks made ready for battle.\n\nBut King Marsil was a wily foe. \"Hearken, my barons all,\" he cried,\n\"Roland is a prince of wondrous strength. Two battles are not enough\nto vanquish him. He shall have three. Half of ye shall go forward now,\nand half remain with me until the Franks are utterly exhausted. Then\nshall ye attack them. Then shall we see the day when the might of\nCharlemagne shall fall and France shall perish in shame.\"\n\nSo King Marsil stayed upon the hillside while half of his knights\nmarched upon the Franks with battle-cry and trumpet-call.\n\n\"Oh Heaven, what cometh now!\" cried the Franks as they heard the\nsound. \"Wo, wo, that ever we saw Ganelon the felon.\"\n\nThen spoke the brave archbishop to them. \"Now it is certain that we\nshall die. But it is better to die sword in hand than in slothful\nease. Now is the day when ye shall receive great honor. Now is the\nday that ye shall win your crown of flowers. The gates of paradise are\nglorious, but therein no coward shall enter.\"\n\n\"We will not fail to enter,\" cried the Franks. \"It is true that we are\nbut few, but we are bold and stanch,\" and striking their golden spurs\ninto their chargers' flanks, they rode to meet the foe.\n\nOnce more the noise and dust of battle rose. Once more the plain was\nstrewn with dead, and the green grass was crimson-dyed, and scattered\nwide were jewels and gold, splintered weapons, and shattered armor.\n\nFearful was the slaughter, mighty the deeds of valor done, until at\nlast the heathen broke and fled amain. After them in hot pursuit rode\nthe Franks. Their bright swords flashed and fell again and again, and\nall the way was marked with dead.\n\nAt length the heathen cries of despair reached even to where King\nMarsil stayed upon the hillside. \"Marsil, oh our King! ride, ride, we\nhave need of thee!\" they cried.\n\nEven to the King's feet the Franks pursued the fleeing foe, slaying\nthem before his face.\n\nThen Marsil, mounting upon his horse, led his last knights against the\nfearful foe.\n\nThe Franks were nigh exhausted, but still three hundred swords\nflashed in the sunlight, three hundred hearts still beat with hope and\ncourage.\n\nAs Roland watched Oliver ever in the thickest of the fight, dealing\nblow upon blow unceasingly, his heart swelled anew with love for him.\n\"Oh, my comrade leal and true,\" he cried, \"alas! this day shall end\nour love. Alas! this day we shall part on earth for ever.\"\n\nOliver heard him and through the press of fighting he urged his horse\nto Roland's side. \"Friend,\" he said, \"keep near to me. So it please\nGod we shall at least die together.\"\n\nOn went the fight, fiercer and fiercer yet, till but sixty weary\nFranks were left. Then, sadly gazing upon the stricken field, Roland\nturned to Oliver. \"Behold! our bravest lie dead,\" he cried. \"Well may\nFrance weep, for she is shorn of all her most valiant knights. Oh my\nEmperor, my friend, alas, why wert thou not here? Oliver, my brother,\nhow shall we speed him now our mournful news?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" said Oliver sadly, \"rather come death now than any\ncraven deed.\"\n\n\"I will sound upon my horn,\" said Roland, all his pride broken and\ngone. \"I will sound upon my horn. Charlemagne will hear it and the\nFranks will return to our aid.\"\n\n\"Shame would that be,\" cried Oliver. \"Our kin would blush for us and\nbe dishonored all their days. When I prayed of thee thou wouldst not\nsound thy horn, and now it is not I who will consent to it. Sound\nupon thy horn! No! there is no courage, no wisdom in that now. Had the\nEmperor been here we had been saved. But now it is too late, for all\nis lost. Nay,\" he cried in rising wrath, \"if ever I see again my fair\nsister Aude, I swear to thee thou shalt never hold her in thine\narms. Never shall she be bride of thine.\" For Roland loved Oliver's\nbeautiful sister Aude and was loved by her, and when Roland would\nreturn to France she had promised to be his bride.\n\n\"Ah, Oliver, why dost thou speak to me with so much anger and hate,\"\ncried Roland sadly.\n\n\"Because it is thy fault that so many Franks lie dead this day,\"\nanswered Oliver. \"It is thy folly that hath slain them. Hadst thou\ndone as I prayed thee our master Charlemagne had been here. This\nbattle had been fought and won. Marsil had been taken and slain. Thy\nmadness it is, Roland, that hath wrought our fate. Henceforward we\ncan serve Charlemagne never more. And now here endeth our loyal\nfriendship. Oh, bitter the parting this night shall see.\"\n\nWith terrible grief in his heart, stricken dumb with misery and pain,\nRoland gazed upon his friend. But Archbishop Turpin had heard the\nstrife between the two, and setting spurs to his horse he rode swiftly\ntowards them. \"Sir Roland, and you, Sir Oliver,\" he cried, \"I pray you\nstrive not thus. See! we all must die, and thy horn, Roland, can avail\nnothing now. Great Karl is too far and would return too late. Yet it\nwere well to sound it. For the Emperor when he hears it will come to\navenge our fall, and the heathen will not return joyously to their\nhomes. When the Franks come, they will alight from their horses, they\nwill find our bodies, and will bury them with mourning and with tears,\nso we shall rest in hallowed graves, and the beasts of the field shall\nnot tear our bones asunder.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" cried Roland.\n\nThen to his lips he laid his horn, and taking a deep breath he blew\nmightily upon it. With all the strength left in his weary body he\nblew.\n\nFull, and clear, and high the horn sounded. From mountain peak to\nmountain peak the note was echoed, till to the camp of Charlemagne,\nfull thirty leagues away, it came.\n\nThen as he heard it, sweet and faint, borne upon the summer wind, the\nEmperor drew rein, and bent his ear to listen. \"Our men give battle;\nit is the horn of Roland,\" he cried.\n\n\"Nay,\" laughed Ganelon scornfully, \"nay, Sire, had any man but thee\nsaid it I had deemed he lied.\"\n\nSo slowly and sad at heart, with many a backward glance, the Emperor\nrode on.\n\nAgain Roland put his horn to his mouth. He was weary now and faint.\nBlood was upon his pale lips, the blue veins in his temples stood out\nlike cords. Very mournfully he blew upon his horn, but the sound of it\nwas carried far, very far, although it was so feeble and so low.\n\nAgain to the soft, sweet note Charlemagne bent his ear. Duke Naimes,\ntoo, and all the Frankish knights, paused at the sound. \"It is the\nhorn of Roland,\" cried the Emperor, \"and very surely had there been no\nbattle, he had not sounded it.\"\n\n\"There is no battle,\" said Ganelon in fretful tones. \"Thou art grown\nold and fearful. Thou talkest as a frightened child. Well thou knowest\nthe pride of Roland, the strong, bold, great and boastful Roland, that\nGod hath suffered so long upon His earth. For one hare Roland would\nsound his horn all day long. Doubtless now he laughs among his peers.\nAnd besides, who would dare to attack Roland? Who so bold? Of a truth\nthere is none. Ride on, Sire, ride on. Why halt? Our fair land is\nstill very far in front.\"\n\nSo again, yet more unwillingly, the Emperor rode on.\n\nCrimson-stained were the lips of Roland. His cheeks were sunken and\nwhite, yet once again he raised his horn. Faintly now, in sadness and\nin anguish, once again he blew. The soft, sweet notes took on a tone\nso pitiful, they wrung the very heart of Charlemagne, where, full\nthirty leagues afar, he onward rode.\n\n\"That horn is very long of breath,\" he sighed, looking backward\nanxiously.\n\n\"It is Roland,\" cried Duke Naimes. \"It is Roland who suffers yonder.\nOn my soul, I swear, there is battle. Some one hath betrayed him. If I\nmistake not, it is he who now deceives thee. Arm, Sire, arm! Sound\nthe trumpets of war. Long enough hast thou hearkened to the plaint of\nRoland.\"\n\nQuickly the Emperor gave command. Quickly the army turned about, and\ncame marching backward. The evening sunshine fell upon their pennons\nof crimson, gold and blue, it gleamed upon helmet and corslet, upon\nlance and shield. Fiercely rode the knights. \"Oh, if we but reach\nRoland before he die,\" they cried, \"oh, what blows we will strike for\nhim.\"\n\nAlas! alas! they are late, too late!\n\nThe evening darkened, night came, yet on they rode. Through all the\nnight they rode, and when at length the rising sun gleamed like\nflame upon helmet, and hauberk and flowing pennon, they still pressed\nonward.\n\nForemost the Emperor rode, sunk in sad thought, his fingers twisted\nin his long white beard which flowed over his cuirass, his eyes filled\nwith tears. Behind him galloped his knights--strong men though they\nwere, every one of them with a sob in his throat, a prayer in his\nheart, for Roland, Roland the brave and fearless.\n\nOne knight only had anger in his heart. That knight was Ganelon. And\nhe by order of the Emperor had been given over to the keeping of the\nkitchen knaves. Calling the chief among them, \"Guard me well this\nfelon,\" said Charlemagne, \"guard him as a traitor, who hath sold all\nmine house to death.\"\n\nThen the chief scullion and a hundred of his fellows surrounded\nGanelon. They plucked him by the hair and buffeted him, each man\ngiving him four sounding blows. Around his neck they then fastened a\nheavy chain, and leading him as one might lead a dancing bear, they\nset him upon a common baggage-horse. Thus they kept him until the time\nshould come that Charlemagne would ask again for the felon knight.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nTHE RETURN OF CHARLEMAGNE\n\n\nRoland was dead and bright angels had already carried his soul to\nheaven, when Charlemagne and all his host at last rode into the valley\nof Roncesvalles. What a dreadful sight was there! Not a path nor\ntrack, not a yard nor foot of ground but was covered with slain Franks\nand heathen lying side by side in death.\n\nCharlemagne gazed upon the scene with grief and horror. \"Where art\nthou, Roland?\" he called. \"The archbishop, where is he? Oliver, where\nart thou?\" All the twelve peers he called by name. But none answered.\nThe wind moaned over the field, fluttering here and there a fallen\nbanner, but voice to answer there was none.\n\n\"Alas,\" sighed Charlemagne, \"what sorrow is mine that I was not here\nere this battle was fought!\"\n\nIn and out of his long white beard his fingers twisted, and tears of\ngrief and anger stood in his eyes. Behind him, rank upon rank, crowded\nhis knights and barons full of wrath and sorrow. Not one among them\nbut had lost a son or brother, a friend or comrade. For a time they\nstood dumb with grief and horror.\n\nThen spoke Duke Naimes. Wise in counsel, brave in battle was he.\n\"Look, Sire,\" he cried, \"look where two leagues from us the dust\narises upon the great highway. There is gathered the army of the\nheathen. Ride, Sire, ride and avenge our wrongs.\"\n\nAnd so it was, for those who had fled from the battle-field were\ngathered together and were now crowding onward to Saragossa.\n\n\"Alas!\" said Charlemagne, \"they are already far away. Yet they have\ntaken from me the very flower of France, so for the sake of right and\nhonor I will do as thou desirest.\"\n\nThen the Emperor called to him four of his chief barons. \"Rest here,\"\nhe said, \"guard the field, the valleys and the hills. Leave the dead\nlying as they are, but watch well that neither lion nor any other\nsavage beast come nigh to them. Neither shall any servant or squire\ntouch them. I forbid ye to let man lay hand upon them till we return.\"\n\n\"Sire we will do thy will,\" answered the four.\n\nThen, leaving a thousand knights to be with them, Charlemagne sounded\nhis war trumpets, and the army set forth upon the pursuit of the\nheathen. Furiously they rode and fast, but already the foe was far.\nAnxiously the Emperor looked to the sun as it slowly went down toward\nthe west. Night was at hand and the enemy still afar.\n\nThen, alighting from his horse, Charlemagne kneeled upon the green\ngrass. \"Oh Lord, I pray thee,\" he cried, \"make the sun to stop. Say\nthou to the night, 'wait.' Say thou to the day, 'remain.'\" And as the\nEmperor prayed, his guardian angel stooped down and whispered to him,\n\"Ride onward, Charlemagne! Light shall not fail thee. Thou hast lost\nthe flower of France. The Lord knoweth it right well. But thou canst\nnow avenge thee upon the wicked. Ride!\"\n\nHearing these words, Charlemagne sprang once more to horse and rode\nonward.\n\nAnd truly a miracle was done for him. The sun stood motionless in\nthe sky, the heathen fled, the Franks pursued, until in the Valley of\nDarkness they fell upon them and beat them with great slaughter. The\nheathen still fled, but the Franks surrounded them, closing every\npath, and in front flowed the river Ebro wide and deep. Across it\nthere was no bridge, upon it no boat, no barge. Calling upon their\ngods Tervagan and Apollin and upon Mahomet to save them, the heathen\nthrew themselves into the water. But there no safety they found.\nMany, weighted with their heavy armor, sank beneath the waves. Others,\ncarried by the tide, were swept away, and all were drowned, King\nMarsil alone fleeing towards Saragossa.\n\nWhen Charlemagne saw that all his enemies were slain, he leapt from\nhis horse, and, kneeling upon the ground, gave thanks to Heaven. And\neven as he rose from his knees the sun went down and all the land was\ndim in twilight.\n\n\"Now is the hour of rest,\" said the Emperor. \"It is too late to return\nto Roncesvalles, for our steeds are weary and exhausted. Take off\ntheir saddles and their bridles, and let them refresh themselves upon\nthe field.\"\n\n\"Sire, it is well said,\" replied the Franks.\n\nSo the knights, leaping from their horses, took saddle and bridle\nfrom them, and let them wander free upon the green meadows by the\nriver-side. Then, being very weary, the Franks lay down upon the\ngrass, all dressed as they were in their armor, and with their swords\ngirded to their sides, and slept. So worn were they with battle and\nwith grief, that none that night kept watch, but all alike slept.\n\nThe Emperor too slept upon the ground among his knights and barons.\nLike them he lay in his armor. And his good sword Joyeuse was girt\nabout him.\n\nThe night was clear and the moon shone brightly. And Charlemagne,\nlying on the grass, thought bitterly of Roland and of Oliver, and\nof all the twelve peers of France who lay dead upon the field of\nRoncesvalles. But at last, overcome with grief and weariness, he fell\nasleep.\n\nAs the Emperor slept, he dreamed. He thought he saw the sky grow black\nwith thunder-clouds, then jagged lightning flashed and flamed, hail\nfell and wild winds howled. Such a storm the earth had never seen,\nand suddenly in all its fury it burst upon his army. Their lances\nwere wrapped in flame, their shields of gold were melted, hauberks\nand helmets were crushed to pieces. Then bears and wolves from out\nthe forests sprang upon the dismayed knights, devouring them.\nMonsters untold, serpents, fiery fiends, and more than thirty thousand\ngriffins, all rushed upon the Franks with greedy, gaping jaws.\n\n\"Arm! arm! Sire,\" they cried to him. And Charlemagne, in his dream,\nstruggled to reach his knights. But something, he knew not what, held\nhim bound and helpless. Then from out the depths of the forest a lion\nrushed upon him. It was a fierce, terrible, and proud beast. It seized\nupon the Emperor, and together they struggled, he fighting with his\nnaked hands. Who would win, who would be beaten, none knew, for the\ndream passed and the Emperor still slept.\n\nAgain Charlemagne dreamed. He stood, he thought, upon the marble steps\nof his great palace of Aix holding a bear by a double chain. Suddenly\nout of the forest there came thirty other bears to the foot of the\nsteps where Charlemagne stood. They all had tongues and spoke like\nmen. \"Give him back to us, Sire,\" they said, \"he is our kinsman, and\nwe must help him. It is not right that thou shouldest keep him so long\nfrom us.\"\n\nThen from out the palace there came a hound. Bounding among the savage\nbeasts he threw himself upon the largest of them. Over and over upon\nthe grass they rolled, fighting terribly. Who would be the victor, who\nthe vanquished? Charlemagne could not tell. The vision passed, and he\nslept till daybreak.\n\nAs the first dim light of dawn crept across the sky, Charlemagne\nawoke. Soon all the camp was astir, and before the sun rose high the\nknights were riding back over the wide roads to Roncesvalles.\n\nWhen once again they reached the dreadful field, Charlemagne wandered\nover all the plain until he came where Roland lay. Then taking him in\nhis arms he made great moan. \"My friend, my Roland, who shall now lead\nmy army? My nephew, beautiful and brave, my pride, my glory, all are\ngone. Alas the day! alas!\" Thus with tears and cries he mourned his\nloss.\n\nThen said one, \"Sire, grieve not overmuch. Command rather that we\nsearch the plain and gather together all our men who have been slain\nby the heathen. Then let us bury them with chant, and song and solemn\nceremony, as befits such heroes.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said Charlemagne, \"it is well said. Sound your trumpets!\"\n\nSo the trumpets were sounded, and over all the field the Franks\nsearched, gathering their slain brothers and comrades.\n\nWith the army there were many bishops, abbots and monks, and so with\nchant and hymn, with prayer and incense, the Franks were laid to rest.\nWith great honor they were buried. Then, for they could do no more,\ntheir comrades left them.\n\nOnly the bodies of Roland, Oliver and Archbishop Turpin, they did\nnot lay in Spanish ground. In three white marble coffins covered with\nsilken cloths they were placed on chariots, ready to be carried back\nto the fair land of France.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO OF SPAIN\n\n\n\n\nTHE CID\n\nADAPTED BY ROBERT SOUTHEY\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nRODRIGO AND THE LEPER\n\n\nRodrigo forthwith set out upon the road, and took with him twenty\nknights. And as he went he did great good, and gave alms, feeding the\npoor and needy. And upon the way they found a leper, struggling in a\nquagmire, who cried out to them with a loud voice to help him for the\nlove of God; and when Rodrigo heard this, he alighted from his beast\nand helped him, and placed him upon the beast before him, and carried\nhim with him in this manner to the inn where he took up his lodging\nthat night. At this were his knights little pleased.\n\nWhen supper was ready he bade his knights take their seats, and he\ntook the leper by the hand, and seated him next himself, and ate with\nhim out of the same dish. The knights were greatly offended at this\nfoul sight, insomuch that they rose up and left the chamber. But\nRodrigo ordered a bed to be made ready for himself and for the leper,\nand they twain slept together. When it was midnight and Rodrigo was\nfast asleep, the leper breathed against him between his shoulders, and\nthat breath was so strong that it passed through him, even through his\nbreast; and he awoke, being astounded, and felt for the leper by him,\nand found him not; and he began to call him, but there was no reply.\nThen he arose in fear, and called for a light, and it was brought him;\nand he looked for the leper and could see nothing; so he returned\ninto the bed, leaving the light burning. And he began to think within\nhimself what had happened, and of that breath which had passed through\nhim, and how the leper was not there. After a while, as he was thus\nmusing, there appeared before him one in white garments, who said\nunto him, \"Sleepest thou or wakest thou, Rodrigo?\" and he answered and\nsaid, \"I do not sleep: but who art thou that bringest with thee such\nbrightness and so sweet an odor?\" Said he, \"I am Saint Lazarus, and\nknow that I was a leper to whom thou didst so much good and so great\nhonor for the love of God; and because thou didst this for his sake\nhath God now granted thee a great gift; for whensoever that breath\nwhich thou hast felt shall come upon thee, whatever thing thou\ndesirest to do, and shalt then begin, that shalt thou accomplish to\nthy heart's desire, whether it be in battle or aught else, so that thy\nhonor shall go on increasing from day to day; and thou shalt be feared\nboth by Moors and Christians, and thy enemies shall never prevail\nagainst thee, and thou shalt die an honorable death in thine own\nhouse, and in thy renown, for God hath blessed thee therefore go\nthou on, and evermore persevere in doing good;\" and with that he\ndisappeared. And Rodrigo arose and prayed to our lady and intercessor\nSt. Mary, that she would pray to her blessed son for him to watch over\nhis body and soul in all his undertakings; and he continued in prayer\ntill the day broke. Then he proceeded on his way, and performed his\npilgrimage, doing much good for the love of God and of St. Mary.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE KNIGHTING OF RODRIGO\n\n\nNow it came to pass that while the King lay before Coimbra, there came\na pilgrim from the land of Greece on pilgrimage to Santiago; his name\nwas Estiano, and he was a bishop. And as he was praying in the church\nhe heard certain of the townsmen and of the pilgrims saying that\nSantiago was wont to appear in battle like a knight, in aid of the\nChristians. And when he heard this, it nothing pleased him, and\nhe said unto them, \"Friends, call him not a knight, but rather a\nfisherman.\" Upon this it pleased God that he should fall asleep,\nand in his sleep Santiago appeared to him with a good and cheerful\ncountenance, holding in his hand a bunch of keys, and said unto him,\n\"Thou thinkest it a fable that they should call me a knight, and\nsayest that I am not so: for this reason am I come unto thee that\nthou never more mayest doubt concerning my knighthood; for a knight of\nJesus Christ I am, and a helper of the Christians against the Moors.\"\n\nThen a horse was brought him the which was exceeding white, and the\napostle Santiago mounted upon it, being well clad in bright and fair\narmor, after the manner of a knight. And he said to Estiano, \"I go\nto help King Don Ferrando, who has lain these seven months before\nCoimbra, and to-morrow, with these keys which thou seest, will I open\nthe gates of the city unto him at the third hour, and deliver it into\nhis hand.\" Having said this, he departed. And the bishop, when he woke\nin the morning, called together the clergy and people of Compostella,\nand told them what he had seen and heard. And as he said, even so did\nit come to pass; for tidings came, that on that day, and at the third\nhour, the gates of the city had been opened.\n\nKing Don Ferrando then assembled his counts and chief captains, and\ntold them all that the monks of Lorvam had done, in bringing him to\nbesiege the city, and in supplying his army in their time of need: and\nthe counts and chief captains made answer and said, \"Certes, O King,\nif the monks had not given us the stores of their monastery, thou\ncouldest not have taken the city at this time.\" The King then called\nfor the abbot and the brethren, for they were with him in the host,\nand said the hours to him daily, and mass in St. Andre's, and buried\nthere and in their monastery as many as had died during the siege,\neither of arrow-wounds or by lances, or of their own infirmities. So\nthey came before him and gave him joy of his conquest; and he said\nunto them, \"Take ye now of this city as much as ye desire, since by\nGod's favor and your counsel I have won it.\" But they made answer,\n\"Thanks be to God and to you, and to your forefathers, we have enough\nand shall have, if so be that we have your favor and dwell among\nChristians. Only for the love of God, and for the remedy of your own\nsoul, give us one church with its dwelling-houses within the city,\nand confirm unto us the gifts made to us in old times by your\nforefathers.\"\n\nWith that the King turned to his sons and his soldiers, and said, \"Of\na truth, by our Creator, they who desire so little are men of God. I\nwould have given them half the city, and they will have only a single\nchurch! Now therefore, since they require but this, on the part of\nGod Almighty let us grant and confirm unto them what they ask, to\nthe honor of God and St. Mamede.\" And the brethren brought him their\ncharters of King Ramiro, and King Bermudo, and King Alfonso, and\nof Gonzalo Moniz, who was a knight and married a daughter of King\nBermudo, and of other good men. And the King confirmed them, and he\nbade them make a writing of all which had passed between him and them\nat the siege of Coimbra; and when they brought him the writing, they\nbrought him also a crown of silver and of gold, which had been King\nBermudo's, and which Gonzalo Moniz had given to the monastery in honor\nof God and St. Mamede.\n\nThe King saw the crown, set with precious stones, and said, \"To what\nend bring ye hither this crown?\" And they said, \"That you should\ntake it, sire, in return for the good which you have done us.\" But he\nanswered, \"Far be it from me that I should take from your monastery\nwhat the good men before me have given to it! Take ye back the crown,\nand take also ten marks of silver, and make with the money a good\ncross, to remain with you forever. And he who shall befriend you, may\nGod befriend him; but he who shall disturb you or your monastery, may\nhe be cursed by the living God and by his saints.\" So the King signed\nthe writing which he had commanded to be made, and his sons and chief\ncaptains signed it also, and in the writing he enjoined his children\nand his children's children, as many as should come after him, to\nhonor and protect the monastery of Lorvam; upon his blessing he\ncharged them so to do, because he had found the brethren better than\nall the other monks in his dominions.\n\nThen King Don Ferrando knighted Rodrigo of Bivar in the great mosque\nof Coimbra, which he dedicated to St. Mary. And the ceremony was after\nthis manner: the King girded on his sword, and gave him the kiss, but\nnot the blow. To do him honor the Queen gave him his horse, and the\nInfanta Dona Urraca fastened on his spurs; and from that day forth he\nwas called Ruydiez. Then the King commanded him to knight nine noble\nsquires with his own hand; and he took his sword before the altar,\nand knighted them. The King then gave Coimbra to the keeping of\nDon Sisnando, Bishop of Iria; a man who, having more hardihood than\nreligion, had by reason of his misdeeds gone over to the Moors, and\nsorely infested the Christians in Portugal. But during the siege he\nhad come to the King's service, and bestirred himself well against the\nMoors; and therefore the King took him into his favor, and gave him\nthe city to keep, which he kept, and did much evil to the Moors till\nthe day of his death. And the King departed and went to Compostella,\nto return thanks to Santiago.\n\nBut then Benalfagi, who was the lord of many lands in Estremadura,\ngathered together a great power of the Moors and built up the walls of\nMontemor, and from thence waged war against Coimbra, so that they of\nCoimbra called upon the King for help. And the King came up against\nthe town, and fought against it, and took it. Great honor did Ruydiez\nwin at that siege; for having to protect the foragers, the enemy came\nout upon him, and thrice in one day was he beset by them; but he,\nthough sorely pressed by them, and in great peril, nevertheless\nwould not send to the camp for succor, but put forth his manhood and\ndefeated them. And from that day che King gave more power into his\nhands, and made him head over all his household.\n\nNow the men of Leon besought the King that he should repeople Zamora,\nwhich had lain desolate since it was destroyed by Almanzor. And he\nwent thither and peopled the city, and gave to it good privileges.\nAnd while he was there came messengers from the five kings who were\nvassals to Ruydiez of Bivar, bringing him their tribute; and they came\nto him, he being with the King, and called him Cid, which signifieth\nlord, and would have kissed his hands, but he would not give them his\nhand till they had kissed the hand of the King. And Ruydiez took the\ntribute and offered the fifth thereof to the King, in token of his\nsovereignty; and the King thanked him, but would not receive it;\nand from that time he ordered that Ruydiez should be called the Cid,\nbecause the Moors had so called him.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nHOW THE CID MADE A COWARD INTO A BRAVE MAN\n\n\nAt this time Martin Pelaez the Asturian came with a convoy of laden\nbeasts, carrying provisions to the host of the Cid; and as he passed\nnear the town the Moors sallied out in great numbers against him; but\nhe, though he had few with him, defended the convoy right well, and\ndid great hurt to the Moors, slaying many of them, and drove them into\nthe town. This Martin Pelaez who is here spoken of, did the Cid make\na right good knight, of a coward, as ye shall hear. When the Cid first\nbegan to lay seige to the city of Valencia, this Martin Pelaez came\nunto him; he was a knight, a native of Santillana in Asturias, a\nhidalgo, great of body and strong of limb, a well-made man and of\ngoodly semblance, but withal a right coward at heart, which he had\nshown in many places when he was among feats of arms. And the Cid\nwas sorry when he came unto him, though he would not let him perceive\nthis; for he knew he was not fit to be of his company. Howbeit he\nthought that since he was come, he would make him brave, whether he\nwould or not.\n\nWhen the Cid began to war upon the town, and sent parties against it\ntwice and thrice a day, for the Cid was alway upon the alert, there\nwas fighting and tourneying every day. One day it fell out that the\nCid and his kinsmen and friends and vassals were engaged in a great\nencounter, and this Martin Pelaez was well armed; and when he saw that\nthe Moors and Christians were at it, he fled and betook himself to his\nlodging, and there hid himself till the Cid returned to dinner. And\nthe Cid saw what Martin Pelaez did, and when he had conquered the\nMoors he returned to his lodging to dinner. Now it was the custom of\nthe Cid to eat at a high table, seated on his bench, at the head. And\nDon Alvar Fanez, and Pero Bermudez, and other precious knights, ate in\nanother part, at high tables, full honorably, and none other knights\nwhatsoever dared take their seats with them, unless they were such as\ndeserved to be there; and the others who were not so approved in arms\nate upon _estrados_, at tables with cushions. This was the order in\nthe house of the Cid, and every one knew the place where he was to\nsit at meat, and every one strove all he could to gain the honor\nof sitting at the table of Don Alvar Fanez and his companions, by\nstrenuously behaving himself in all feats of arms; and thus the honor\nof the Cid was advanced.\n\nMartin Pelaez, thinking none had seen his badness, washed his hands\nin turn with the other knights, and would have taken his place among\nthem. And the Cid went unto him, and took him by the hand and said,\n\"You are not such a one as deserves to sit with these, for they are\nworth more than you or than me; but I will have you with me:\" and he\nseated him with himself at table. And he, for lack of understanding,\nthought that the Cid did this to honor him above all the others. On\nthe morrow the Cid and his company rode towards Valencia, and the\nMoors came out to the tourney; and Martin Pelaez went out well armed,\nand was among the foremost who charged the Moors, and when he was in\namong them he turned the reins, and went back to his lodging; and\nthe Cid took heed to all that he did, and saw that though he had done\nbadly he had done better than the first day. And when the Cid had\ndriven the Moors into the town he returned to his lodging, and as he\nsat down to meat he took this Martin Pelaez by the hand, and seated\nhim with himself, and bade him eat with him in the same dish, for he\nhad deserved more that day than he had the first. And the knight\ngave heed to that saying, and was abashed; howbeit he did as the Cid\ncommanded him: and after he had dined he went to his lodging and began\nto think upon what the Cid had said unto him, and perceived that he\nhad seen all the baseness which he had done; and then he understood\nthat for this cause he would not let him sit at board with the other\nknights who were precious in arms, but had seated him with himself,\nmore to affront him than to do him honor, for there were other knights\nthere better than he, and he did not show them that honor. Then\nresolved he in his heart to do better than he had done heretofore.\n\nAnother day it happened that the Cid and his company, along with\nMartin Pelaez, rode toward Valencia, and the Moors came out to the\ntourney full resolutely, and Martin Pelaez was among the first, and\ncharged them right boldly; and he smote down and slew presently a good\nknight, and he lost there all the bad fear which he had had, and was\nthat day one of the best knights there: and as long as the tourney\nlasted there he remained, smiting and slaying and overthrowing the\nMoors, till they were driven within the gates, in such manner that the\nMoors marveled at him, and asked where that devil came from, for they\nhad never seen him before. And the Cid was in a place where he could\nsee all that was going on, and he gave good heed to him, and had great\npleasure in beholding him, to see how well he had forgotten the great\nfear which he was wont to have. And when the Moors were shut up within\nthe town, the Cid and all his people returned to their lodging, and\nMartin Pelaez full leisurely and quietly went to his lodging also,\nlike a good knight. And when it was the hour of eating, the Cid waited\nfor Martin Pelaez; and when he came, and they had washed, the Cid\ntook him by the hand and said, \"My friend, you are not such a one as\ndeserves to sit with me from henceforth; but sit you here with Don\nAlvar Fanez, and with these other good knights, for the good feats\nwhich you have done this day have made you a companion for them;\" and\nfrom that day forward he was placed in the company of the good.\n\nThe history saith that from that day forward this knight Martin Pelaez\nwas a right good one, and a right valiant, and a right precious, in\nall places where he chanced among feats of arms, and he lived alway\nwith the Cid, and served him right well and truly. And the history\nsaith, that after the Cid had won the city of Valencia, on the day\nwhen they conquered and discomfited the King of Seville, this Martin\nPelaez was so good a one, that setting aside the body of the Cid\nhimself, there was no such good knight there, nor one who bore such\npart, as well in the battle as in the pursuit. And so great was\nthe mortality which he made among the Moors that day, that when he\nreturned from the business the sleeves of his mail were clotted with\nblood, up to the elbow; insomuch that for what he did that day his\nname is written in this history, that it may never die. And when the\nCid saw him come in that guise, he did him great honor, such as he\nnever had done to any knight before that day, and from thenceforward\ngave him a place in all his actions and in all his secrets, and he\nwas his great friend. In this knight Martin Pelaez was fulfilled the\nexample which saith, that he who betaketh himself to a good tree, hath\ngood shade, and he who serves a good lord winneth good guerdon; for by\nreason of the good service which he did the Cid, he came to such good\nstate that he was spoken of as ye have heard: for the Cid knew how to\nmake a good knight, as a good groom knows how to make a good horse.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHOW THE CID RULED VALENCIA\n\n\nOn the following day after the Christians had taken possession of the\ntown, the Cid entered it with a great company, and he ascended the\nhighest tower of the wall and beheld all the city; and the Moors came\nunto him, and kissed his hand, saying he was welcome. And the Cid did\ngreat honor unto them. And then he gave order that all the windows of\nthe towers which looked in upon the town should be closed up, that the\nChristians might not see what the Moors did in their houses; and the\nMoors thanked him for this greatly. And he commanded and requested the\nChristians that they should show great honor to the Moors, and respect\nthem, and greet them when they met: and the Moors thanked the Cid\ngreatly for the honor which the Christians did them, saying that they\nhad never seen so good a man, nor one so honorable, nor one who had\nhis people under such obedience.\n\nNow Abeniaf thought to have the love of the Cid; and calling to mind\nthe wrath with which he had formerly been received, because he had\nnot taken a gift with him, he took now great riches which he had taken\nfrom those who sold bread for so great a price during the siege of\nValencia, and this he carried to the Cid as a present. Among those\nwho had sold it were some men from the islands of Majorca, and he\ntook from them all that they had. This the Cid knew, and he would not\naccept his gifts. And the Cid caused proclamation to be made in the\ntown and throughout the whole district thereof, that the honorable men\nand knights and castellans should assemble together in the garden of\nVilla Nueva, where the Cid at that time sojourned. And when they were\nall assembled, he went out unto them, to a place which was made ready\nwith carpets and with mats, and he made them take their seats before\nhim full honorable, and began to speak unto them, saying: \"I am a\nman who have never possessed a kingdom, neither I nor any man of my\nlineage. But the day when I first beheld this city I was well pleased\ntherewith, and coveted it that I might be its lord; and I besought the\nLord our God that he would give it me. See now what his power is, for\nthe day when I sat down before Juballa I had no more than four loaves\nof bread, and now by God's mercy I have won Valencia.\n\n\"If I administer right and justice here, God will let me enjoy it; if\nI do evil, and demean myself proudly and wrongfully, I know that he\nwill take it away. Now then, let every one go to his own lands, and\npossess them even as he was wont to have and to hold them. He who\nshall find his field, or his vineyard, or his garden, desert, let him\nincontinently enter thereon; and he who shall find his husbanded, let\nhim pay him that hath cultivated it the cost of his labor, and of\nthe seed which he hath sown therein, and remain with his heritage,\naccording to the law of the Moors. Moreover, I have given order that\nthey who collect my dues take from you no more than the tenth, because\nso it is appointed by the custom of the Moors, and it is what ye\nhave been wont to pay. And I have resolved in my heart to hear your\ncomplaints two days in the week, on the Monday and the Thursday; but\nif causes should arise which require haste, come to me when ye will\nand I will give judgment, for I do not retire with women to sing and\nto drink, as your lords have done, so that ye could obtain no justice,\nbut will myself see to these things, and watch over ye as friend\nover his friend, and kinsman over his kinsman. And I will be cadi and\nguazil, and when dispute happens among ye I will decide it.\" When\nhe had said these things, they all replied that they prayed God\nto preserve him through long and happy years; and four of the most\nhonorable among them arose and kissed his hands, and the Cid bade them\ntake their seats again.\n\nThen the Cid spake unto them and said: \"It is told me that Abeniaf\nhath done much evil, and committed great wrong toward some of ye, in\nthat he hath taken great riches from ye to present them to me, saying,\nthat this he did because ye sold food for a great price during the\nsiege. But I will accept no such gift; for if I were minded to have\nyour riches, I could take them, and need not ask them neither from\nhim, nor from any other; but thing so unseemly as to take that which\nis his from any one, without just cause, I will not do. They who have\ngotten wealth thus, God hath given it them; let them go to Abeniaf,\nand take back what he hath forced from them, for I will order him to\nrestore the whole.\" Then he said, \"Ye see the riches which I took from\nthe messengers who went to Murcia; it is mine by right, for I took it\nin war because they brake the covenant which they had made, and would\nhave deceived me: nevertheless I will restore it to the uttermost\ncentesimo, that nothing thereof shall be lost. And ye shall do homage\nto me that ye will not withdraw yourselves, but will abide here, and\ndo my bidding in all things, and never depart from the covenant which\nye make with me; for I love ye, and am grieved to think of the great\nevil and misery which ye endured from the great famine, and of the\nmortality which there was. And if ye had done that before which ye\nhave done now, ye would not have been brought to these sufferings\nand have bought the _cafiz_ of wheat at a thousand _maravedis_; but I\ntrust in God to bring it to one _maravedi_. Be ye now secure in your\nlands, and till your fields, and rear cattle; for I have given order\nto my men that they offer ye no wrong, neither enter into the town to\nbuy nor to sell; but that they carry on all their dealings in Alcudia,\nand this I do that ye may receive no displeasure. Moreover I command\nthem not to take any captive into the town, but if this should be\ndone, lay ye hands on the captive and set him free, without fear, and\nif any one should resist, kill him and fear not. I myself will not\nenter your city nor dwell therein, but I will build me a place beside\nthe bridge of Alcantara, where I may go and disport myself at times,\nand repair when it is needful.\" When he had said these things he bade\nthem go their way.\n\nWell pleased were the Moors when they departed from him, and they\nmarveled at the greatness of his promises, and they set their hearts\nat rest, and put away the fear which they had had, thinking all their\ntroubles were over; for in all the promises which the Cid had made\nunto them, they believed that he spake truth; but he said these things\nonly to quiet them, and to make them come to what he wished, even as\ncame to pass. And when he had done, he sent his Almoxarife, Abdalla\nAdiz, to the custom-house, and made him appoint men to collect the\nrents of the town for him, which was done accordingly. And when the\nCid had given order concerning his own affairs at his pleasure, the\nMoors would fain have entered again into possession of their heritages\nas he told them; but they found it all otherwise, for of all the\nfields which the Christians had husbanded, they would not yield up\none; albeit they let them enter upon such as were left waste: some\nsaid that the Cid had given them the lands that year, instead of their\npay, and other some that they rented them and had paid rent for the\nyear.\n\nThe Moors waited till Thursday, when the Cid was to hear complaints,\nas he had said unto them. When Thursday came all the honorable men\nwent to the garden, but the Cid sent to say unto them that he could\nnot come out that day, because of other causes which he had to\ndetermine; and he desired that they would go their way for that time,\nand come again on the Monday: this was to show his mastery. And when\nit was Monday they assembled again in the garden, and the Cid came\nout to them, and took his seat upon the _estrado_, and the Moors\nmade their complaint. And when he had heard them he began to make\nsimilitudes, and offer reasons which were not like those which he had\nspoken the first day; for he said to them, \"I ask of ye, whether it is\nwell that I should be left without men? or if I were without them, I\nshould be like unto one who hath lost his right arm, or to a bird that\nhath no wings, or to one who should do battle and hath neither\nspear nor sword. The first thing which I have to look to is to the\nwell-being of my people, that they may live in wealth and honor, so\nthat they may be able to serve me, and defend my honor: for since it\nhas pleased God to give me the city of Valencia, I will not that there\nbe any other lord here than me. Therefore I say unto you and command\nyou, if you would be well with me, and would that I should show favor\nunto you, that ye see how to deliver that traitor Abeniaf into my\nhands. Ye all know the great treason which he committed upon King\nYahia, his lord and yours, how he slew him, and the misery which he\nbrought upon you in the siege; and since it is not fitting that a\ntraitor who hath slain his lord should live among you, and that his\ntreason should be confounded with your loyalty, see to the obeyment of\nmy command.\"\n\nWhen the honorable Moors heard this, they were dismayed; verily\nthey knew that he spake truth touching the death of the King, but it\ntroubled them that he departed form the promise which he had made; and\nthey made answer that they would take counsel concerning what he had\nsaid, and then reply. Then five of the best and most honorable among\nthem withdrew, and went to Abdalla Adiz, and said unto him, \"Give us\nthy counsel now the best and truest that thou canst, for thou art of\nour law, and oughtest to do this: and the reason why we ask counsel of\nthee is this. The Cid promised us many things, and now behold he says\nnothing to us of what he said before, but moveth other new reasons, at\nwhich great dismay hath seized us. And because thou better knowest his\nways, tell us now what is his pleasure, for albeit we might wish to\ndo otherwise, this is not a time wherein anything but what he shall\ncommand can be done.\" When the Almoxarife heard this he made answer,\n\"Good men, it is easy to understand what he would have, and to do what\nshould be done. We all know the great treason which Abeniaf committed\nagainst ye all in killing your lord the King; for albeit at that time\nye felt the burden of the Christians, yet was it nothing so great as\nafter he had killed him, neither did ye suffer such misery. And since\nGod hath brought him who was the cause to this state, see now by all\nmeans how ye may deliver him into the hands of the Cid; and fear\nnot, neither take thought for the rest; for though the Cid may do his\npleasure in some things, better is it to have him for lord than this\ntraitor who hath brought so much evil upon ye. Moreover the things\nof this world soon pass away, and my heart tells me that we shall ere\nlong come out of the bondage of the Cid, and of the Christians; for\nthe Cid is well-nigh at the full of his days, and we who remain alive\nafter his death shall then be masters of our city.\"\n\nThe good men thanked him much, and held themselves to be well advised,\nand said that they would do willingly what he bade them; and they\nreturned forthwith to the Cid, and said unto him that they would\nfulfill his commandment. Incontinently did the good men dispeed\nthemselves of the Cid, and they went into the city, and gathered\ntogether a great posse of armed men, and went to the place where\nAbeniaf dwelt; and they assaulted the house and brake the doors, and\nentered in and laid hands on him, and his son, and all his company,\nand carried them before the Cid. And the Cid ordered Abeniaf to be\ncast into prison, and all those who had taken counsel with him for the\ndeath of King Yahia.\n\nWhen this was done, the Cid said unto the good men, \"Now that ye have\nfulfilled my bidding, I hold it good to show favor unto you in that\nwhich ye yourselves shall understand to be fitting for me to grant.\nSay therefore what ye would have, and I will do that which I think\nbehooveth me: but in this manner, that my dwelling-place be within the\ncity of Valencia, in the Alcazar, and that my Christian men have all\nthe fortresses in the city.\" And when the good men heard this, they\nwere greatly troubled; howbeit they dissembled the sorrow which they\nresented, and said unto him, \"Sir Cid, order it as you think good,\nand we consent thereto.\" Then said he unto them that he would observe\ntowards them all the uses and customs of their law, and that he would\nhave the power, and be lord of all; and they should till their fields\nand feed their flocks and herds, and give him his tenth, and he would\ntake no more.\n\nWhen the Moors heard this they were pleased; and since they were to\nremain in the town, and in their houses and their inheritances, and\nwith their uses and customs, and that their mosques were to be left\nthem, they held themselves not to be badly off. Then they asked the\nCid to let their guazil be the same as he had first appointed, and\nthat he would give them for their cadi the Alfaqui Alhagi, and let\nhim appoint whom he would to assist him in distributing justice to the\nMoors; and thus he himself would be relieved of the wearisomeness of\nhearing them, save only when any great occasion might befall. And the\nCid granted this which they required, and they kissed his hand,\nand returned into the town. Nine months did the Cid hold Valencia\nbesieged, and at the end of that time it fell into his power, and he\nobtained possession of the walls, as ye have heard. And one month\nhe was practising with the Moors that he might keep them quiet,\ntill Abeniaf was delivered into his hands; and thus ten months were\nfulfilled, and they were fulfilled on Thursday, the last day of June,\nin the year of the era one thousand one hundred and thirty and one,\nwhich was in the year one thousand ninety and three of the incarnation\nof our Lord Jesus Christ. And when the Cid had finished all his\ndealings with the Moors, on this day he took horse with all his\ncompany in good array, his banner being carried before him, and his\narms behind; and in this guise, with great rejoicings he entered the\ncity of Valencia. And he alighted at the Alcazar, and gave order to\nlodge all his men round about it; and he bade them plant his banner\nupon the highest tower of the Alcazar. Glad was the Campeador, and\nall they who were with him, when they saw his banner planted in\nthat place. And from that day forth was the Cid possessed of all the\ncastles and fortresses which were in the kingdom of Valencia, and\nestablished in what God had given him, and he and all his people\nrejoiced.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nTHE CID'S LAST VICTORY\n\n\nThree days after the Cid had died King Bucar came into the port of\nValencia, and landed with all his power, which was so great that there\nis not a man in the world who could give account of the Moors whom he\nbrought. And there came with him thirty and six kings, and one\nMoorish queen, who was a negress, and she brought with her two hundred\nhorsewomen, all negresses like herself, all having their hair shorn\nsave a tuft on the top, and this was in token that they came as if\nupon a pilgrimage, and to obtain the remission of their sins; and\nthey were all armed in coats of mail and with Turkish bows. King Bucar\nordered his tents to be pitched round about Valencia, and Abenalfarax,\nwho wrote this history in Arabic, saith that there were full fifteen\nthousand tents; and he bade that Moorish negress with her archers\nto take their station near the city. And on the morrow they began to\nattack the city, and they fought against it three days strenuously;\nand the Moors received great loss, for they came blindly up to the\nwalls and were slain there. And the Christians defended themselves\nright well; and every time that they went upon the walls, they sounded\ntrumpets and tambours, and made great rejoicings, as the Cid had\ncommanded. This continued for eight days or nine, till the companions\nof the Cid had made ready everything for their departure, as he had\ncommanded. And King Bucar and his people thought that the Cid dared\nnot come out against them; and they were the more encouraged, and\nbegan to think of making bastiles and engines wherewith to combat the\ncity, for certes they weened that the Cid Ruydiez dared not come out\nagainst them, seeing that he tarried so long.\n\nAll this while the company of the Cid were preparing all things to go\ninto Castile, as he had commanded before his death; and his trusty Gil\nDiaz did nothing else but labor at this. And the body of the Cid was\nthus prepared: first it was embalmed and anointed, and the virtue of\nthe balsam and myrrh was such that the flesh remained firm and fair,\nhaving its natural color, and his countenance as it was wont to be,\nand the eyes open, and his long beard in order, so that there was not\na man who would have thought him dead if he had seen him and not known\nit. And on the second day after he had departed, Gil Diaz placed the\nbody upon a right noble saddle, and this saddle with the body upon\nit he put upon a frame; and he dressed the body in a _gambax_ of fine\nsendal, next the skin. And he took two boards and fitted them to the\nbody, one to the breast and the other to the shoulders; these were so\nhollowed out and fitted that they met at the sides and under the arms,\nand the hind one came up to the pole, and the other up to the beard.\nThese boards were fastened into the saddle, so that the body could not\nmove.\n\nAll this was done by the morning of the twelfth day; and all that day\nthe people of the Cid were busied in making ready their arms, and in\nloading beasts with all that they had, so that they left nothing of\nany price in the whole city of Valencia, save only the empty houses.\nWhen it was midnight they took the body of the Cid, fastened to the\nsaddle as it was, and placed it upon his horse Bavieca, and fastened\nthe saddle well; and the body sat so upright and well that it seemed\nas if he was alive. And it had on painted hose of black and white, so\ncunningly painted that no man who saw them would have thought but that\nthey were greaves and cuishes, unless he had laid his hand upon them;\nand they put on it a surcoat of green sendal, having his arms blazoned\nthereon, and a helmet of parchment, which was cunningly painted that\nevery one might have believed it to be iron; and his shield was hung\nround his neck, and they placed the sword Tizona in his hand, and they\nraised his arm, and fastened it up so subtilely that it was a marvel\nto see how upright he held the sword. And the Bishop Don Hieronymo\nwent on one side of him, and the trusty Gil Diaz on the other, and he\nled the horse Bavieca, as the Cid had commanded him. And when all this\nhad been made ready, they went out from Valencia at midnight, through\nthe gate of Roseros, which is towards Castile. Pero Bermudez went\nfirst with the banner of the Cid, and with him five hundred knights\nwho guarded it, all well appointed. And after these came all the\nbaggage. Then came the body of the Cid, with an hundred knights, all\nchosen men, and behind them Dona Ximena with all her company, and six\nhundred knights in the rear. All these went out so silently, and with\nsuch a measured pace, that it seemed as if there were only a score.\nAnd by the time that they had all gone out it was broad day.\n\nNow Alvar Fanez Minaya had set the host in order, and while the Bishop\nDon Hieronymo and Gil Diaz led away the body of the Cid, and Dona\nXimena, and the baggage, he fell upon the Moors. First he attacked the\ntents of that Moorish queen the negress, who lay nearest to the city;\nand this onset was so sudden, that they killed full a hundred and\nfifty Moors before they had time to take arms or go to horse. But that\nMoorish negress was so skilful in drawing the Turkish bow, that it\nwas held for a marvel; and it is said that they called her in Arabic\n_Nugueymat Turya_, which is to say, the Star of the Archers. And she\nwas the first that got on horseback, and with some fifty that were\nwith her, did some hurt to the company of the Cid; but in fine they\nslew her, and her people fled to the camp. And so great was the uproar\nand confusion, that few there were who took arms, but instead thereof\nthey turned their backs and fled toward the sea. And when King Bucar\nand his kings saw this, they were astonished. And it seemed to them\nthat there came against them on the part of the Christians full\nseventy thousand knights, all as white as snow: and before them a\nknight of great stature upon a white horse with a bloody cross, who\nbore in one hand a white banner, and in the other a sword which seemed\nto be of fire, and he made a great mortality among the Moors who were\nflying. And King Bucar and the other kings were so greatly dismayed\nthat they never checked the reins till they had ridden into the sea;\nand the company of the Cid rode after them, smiting and slaying\nand giving them no respite; and they smote down so many that it\nwas marvelous, for the Moors did not turn their heads to defend\nthemselves. And when they came to the sea, so great was the press\namong them to get to the ships, that more than ten thousand died in\nthe water. And of the six and thirty kings, twenty and two were slain.\nAnd King Bucar and they who escaped with him hoisted sails and went\ntheir way, and never more turned their heads.\n\nAlvar Fanez and his people, when they had discomfited the Moors,\nspoiled the field, and the spoil thereof was so great that they could\nnot carry it away. And they loaded camels and horses with the noblest\nthings which they found, and went after the Bishop Don Hieronymo and\nGil Diaz, who, with the body of the Cid, and Dona Ximena, and the\nbaggage, had gone on till they were clear of the host, and then waited\nfor those who were gone against the Moors. And so great was the spoil\nof that day, that there was no end to it: and they took up gold, and\nsilver, and other precious things as they rode through the camp, so\nthat the poorest man among the Christians, horseman or on foot, became\nrich with what he won that day.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO OF SWITZERLAND\n\n\n\n\nWILLIAM TELL\n\nADAPTED BY H.E. MARSHALL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nGESSLER'S TYRANNY\n\n\nFar away in the heart of Europe there lies a little country called\nSwitzerland. It seems wonderful that when great and powerful kings\nand princes swept over the world, fighting and conquering, little\nSwitzerland should not have been conquered and swallowed up by one\nor other of the great countries which lay around. But the Swiss have\nalways been a brave and fearless people.\n\nAt one time one of the great princes of Europe tried to conquer\nSwitzerland and take away the freedom of its people. But the people\nfought so bravely that instead of being conquered they conquered the\ntyrants and drove them away.\n\nIn those far-off times the greatest ruler in Europe was the Emperor,\nand his empire was divided into many states, over each of which ruled\na prince or king who acknowledged the Emperor as overlord. When an\nEmperor died the kings and princes met together and chose another\nEmperor from among their number.\n\nSwitzerland was one of the countries which owned the Emperor as\noverlord. But the Swiss were a free people. They had no king or prince\nover them, but a governor only, who was appointed by the Emperor.\n\nAustria was another of the states of the great empire, and at one time\na Duke of Austria was made ruler of Switzerland. Because of its great\nbeauty, this duke cast greedy eyes upon Switzerland and longed to\npossess it for his very own.\n\nBut the Swiss would not give up their freedom; and three cantons, as\nthe divisions of Switzerland are called, joined together, and swore to\nstand by each other, and never to submit to Austria.\n\nUri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden were the names of these three cantons. A\nlittle later another canton joined the three. These four cantons lie\nround a lake which is called the Lake of the four Forest Cantons. When\nAlbrecht, Duke of Austria was chosen Emperor he said to himself that\nnow truly he would be lord and master of Switzerland. So he sent two\nnobles to the Swiss to talk to them, and persuade them to own him as\ntheir king.\n\nSome of the people of Switzerland were persuaded to belong to Austria,\nbut all the people of the free cantons replied that they wished to\nremain free.\n\nSo the messengers went back to Albrecht and told him what the\npeople said. When he heard the message he was very angry. \"The proud\npeasants,\" he cried, \"they will not yield. Then I will bend and break\nthem. They will be soft and yielding enough when I have done with\nthem.\"\n\nMonths went by and the Emperor appointed no ruler over Switzerland.\nAt last the people, feeling that they must have a governor, sent\nmessengers to the Emperor, begging him to appoint a ruler, as all\nthe Emperors before him had done. \"A governor you shall have.\" said\nAlbrecht. \"Go home and await his coming. Whom I send to you, him you\nmust obey in all things.\"\n\nWhen they had gone, Albrecht smiled grimly to himself. \"They will not\nyield,\" he said, \"but I will oppress them and ill-treat them until I\nforce them to rebel. Then I will fight against them and conquer them,\nand at last Switzerland will be mine.\"\n\nA few days later Albrecht made his friends Hermann Gessler and\nBeringer of Landenberg governors over the free cantons, telling them\nto take soldiers with them to enforce the law and to tax the people in\norder to pay the soldiers. \"You will punish all wrong-doers severely,\"\nhe said, \"I will endure no rebels within my empire.\"\n\nHard and bitter days began when Gessler and Landenberg settled there.\nThey delighted in oppressing the people. They loaded them with taxes;\nnothing could be either bought or sold but the governors claimed a\ngreat part of the money; the slightest fault was punished with long\nimprisonment and heavy fines. The people became sad and downcast, but\nstill they would not yield to Austria.\n\nGessler lived in a great castle at Kuessnacht in Schwyz. In it were\ndreadful dungeons where he imprisoned the people and tortured them\naccording to his wicked will. But he was not pleased to have only one\ncastle, and he made up his mind to build another in Uri. So he began\nto build one near the little town of Altorf, which lay at the other\nend of the Lake of the Forest Cantons. Gessler forced the men of Uri\nto build this castle, and he meant to use it not only as a house for\nhimself, but as a prison for the people.\n\n\"What will you call your castle?\" asked a friend one day, as they\nstood to watch the building. \"I will call it the Curb of Uri,\" said\nGessler, with a cruel laugh, \"for with it I will curb the proud spirit\nof these peasants.\" After watching the work for some time, Gessler and\nhis friend rode away. \"My friend,\" said Gessler, as he rode, \"we will\ngo back to Kiissnacht by another way. I have heard that an insolent\npeasant called Werner Stauffacher has built himself a new house. I\nwish to see it. There is no end to the impudence of these peasants.\"\n\"But what will you do?\" asked his friend. \"Do\" said Gessler, \"why,\nturn him out, to be sure. What need have these peasants for great\nhouses?\" So they rode on to Stauffacher's house. \"Whose house is\nthis?\" he demanded. Stauffacher answered quietly, \"My lord, this house\nbelongs to the Emperor, and is yours and mine in fief to hold and use\nfor his service.\" \"I rule this land,\" said Gessler, \"in the name of\nthe Emperor, and I will not allow peasants to build houses without\nasking leave. I will have you understand that.\" And he rode from the\ndoorway. Stauffacher told his wife what had happened and she advised\nhim to call a secret meeting of his friends to plan to free themselves\nfrom the governor's rule.\n\nWerner Stauffacher spent some days in going from village to village,\ntrying to find out how the peasants and common people felt, and\neverywhere heard complaints and groans. Coming to Altorf, where his\nfriend Walter Fuerst lived, he heard in the market-place a great noise\nof shouting and trampling of feet.\n\nDown the street a party of Austrian soldiers came marching. One of\nthem carried a long pole, and another a red cap with a peacock's\nfeather in it. Then the pole with the red cap on the top of it was\nfirmly planted in the ground.\n\nAs soon as the pole was set up a herald stepped out, blew his trumpet\nand cried, \"Se ye this cap here set up? It is his Majesty's will and\ncommandment that ye do all bow the knee and bend the head as ye do\npass it by.\"\n\nThis was a new insult to a free people. Stauffacher went to the house\nof Walter Fuerst, where he met Arnold of Melchthal, who had suffered\nmuch from Landenberg. Calling upon God and his saints, these three men\nswore a solemn oath to protect each other and promised to meet in a\nlittle meadow called the Ruetli, the Wednesday before Martinmas.\n\nThree weeks passed, and in the darkness and quiet the men stole to the\nplace of meeting with other friends of freedom whom they had brought.\nNear Walter Fuerst stood a young man straight and tall with clear and\nhonest eyes. \"William Tell,\" said Arnold, \"and the best shot in all\nSwitzerland. I have seen him shoot an apple from a tree a hundred\npaces off.\"\n\nThen they swore never to betray each other, to be true to the Emperor,\nbut to drive the Austrian governor, his friends, his servants, and his\nsoldiers out of the land.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nWILLIAM TELL AND HIS GREAT SHOT\n\n\nWilliam Tell did not live in Altorf, but in another village some\nway off, called Buerglen. His wife, who was called Hedwig, was Walter\nFuerst's daughter. Tell and Hedwig had two sons, William and Walter.\nWalter, the younger, was about six years old.\n\nWilliam Tell loved his wife and his children very much, and they all\nlived happily together in a pretty little cottage at Buerglen.\n\n\"Hedwig,\" said Tell one morning, some days after the meeting mentioned\nabove, \"I am going into Altorf to see your father.\"\n\nHedwig looked troubled. \"Do be careful, William,\" she said. \"Must you\nreally go? You know the governor is there just now, and he hates you.\"\n\n\"Oh, I am quite safe,\" said Tell; \"I have done nothing for which he\ncould punish me. But I will keep out of his way,\" and he lifted his\ncrossbow and prepared to go.\n\n\"Do not take your bow,\" said Hedwig, still feeling uneasy. \"Leave it\nhere.\"\n\n\"Why, Hedwig, how you trouble yourself for nothing,\" said Tell,\nsmiling at her. \"Why should I leave my bow behind? I feel lost without\nit.\"\n\n\"O father, where are you going?\" said Walter, running into the room at\nthis minute.\n\n\"I am going to Altorf to see grandfather. Would you like to come?\"\n\n\"Oh, may I? May I, mother?\"\n\n\"Yes, dear, if you like,\" said Hedwig. \"And you will be careful, won't\nyou?\" she added, turning to Tell.\n\n\"Yes, I will,\" he replied, and Walter, throwing his arms round her\nneck, said, \"It's all right, mother, I will take care of father.\" Then\nthey set off merrily together.\n\nIt was a great thing to go to Altorf with father, and Walter was\nso happy that he chattered all the way, asking questions about\neverything.\n\n\"How far can you shoot, father?\"\n\n\"Oh, a good long way.\"\n\n\"As high as the sun?\" asked Walter, looking up at it.\n\n\"Oh dear, no, not nearly so high as that.\"\n\n\"Well, how high? As high as the snow-mountains?\"\n\n\"Oh no.\"\n\n\"Why is there always snow on the mountains, father?\" asked Walter,\nthinking of something else. And so he went on, asking questions\nabout one thing after another, until his father was quite tired of\nanswering.\n\nWalter was chattering so much that Tell forgot all about the hat upon\nthe pole, and, instead of going round by another way to avoid it, as\nhe had meant to do, he went straight through the market-place to reach\nWalter Fuerst's house.\n\n\"Father, look,\" said Walter, \"look, how funny! there is a hat stuck up\non a pole. What is it for?\"\n\n\"Don't look, Walter,\" said Tell, \"the hat has nothing to do with us,\ndon't look at it.\" And taking Walter by the hand, he led him hurriedly\naway.\n\nBut it was too late. The soldier, who stood beside the pole to guard\nit and see that people bowed in passing, pointed his spear at Tell and\nbade him stop. \"Stand, in the Emperor's name,\" he cried.\n\n\"Let be, friend,\" said Tell, \"let me past.\"\n\n\"Not till you obey the Emperor's command. Not till you bow to the\nhat.\"\n\n\"It is no command of the Emperor,\" said Tell. \"It is Gessler's folly\nand tyranny. Let me go.\"\n\n\"Nay, but you must not speak of my lord the governor in such terms.\nAnd past you shall not go until you bow to the cap. And, if you bow\nnot, to prison I will lead you. Such is my lord's command.\"\n\n\"Why should I bow to a cap?\" said Tell, his voice shaking with rage.\n\"Were the Emperor himself here, then would I bend the knee and bow my\nhead to him with all reverence. But to a hat! Never!\" and he tried\nto force his way past Heinz the soldier. But Heinz would not let him\npass, and kept his spear pointed at Tell.\n\nHearing loud and angry voices, many people gathered to see what the\ncause might be. Soon there was quite a crowd around the two. Every one\ntalked at once, and the noise and confusion were great. Heinz tried\nto take Tell prisoner, and the people tried to take him away. \"Help!\nhelp!\" shouted Heinz, hoping that some of his fellow-soldiers would\nhear him and come to his aid,--\"Help, help! treason, treason!\"\n\nThen over all the noise of the shouting there sounded the tramp of\nhorses' hoofs and the clang and jangle of swords and armor.\n\n\"Room for the governor. Room, I say,\" cried a herald.\n\nThe shouting ceased and the crowd silently parted, as Gessler, richly\ndressed, haughty and gloomy, rode through it, followed by a gay\ncompany of his friends and soldiers. He checked his horse and, gazing\nangrily round the crowd, \"What is this rioting?\" he asked.\n\n\"My lord,\" said Heinz, stepping forward, \"this scoundrel here will not\nbow to the cap, according to your lordship's command.\"\n\n\"Eh, what?\" said Gessler, his dark face growing more dark and angry\nstill. \"Who dares to disobey my orders?\"\n\n\"'Tis William Tell of Buerglen, my lord.\"\n\n\"Tell?\" said Gessler, turning in his saddle and looking at Tell as he\nstood among the people, holding little Walter by the hand.\n\nThere was silence for a few minutes while Gessler gazed at Tell in\nanger.\n\n\"I hear you are a great shot, Tell,\" said Gessler at last, laughing\nscornfully, \"they say you never miss.\"\n\n\"That is quite true,\" said little Walter eagerly, for he was very\nproud of his father's shooting. \"He can hit an apple on a tree a\nhundred yards off.\"\n\n\"Is that your boy?\" said Gessler, looking at him with an ugly smile.\n\n\"Yes, my lord.\"\n\n\"Have you other children?\"\n\n\"Another boy, my lord.\"\n\n\"You are very fond of your children, Tell?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord.\"\n\n\"Which of them do you love best?\"\n\nTell hesitated. He looked down at little Walter with his rosy cheeks\nand curly hair. Then he thought of William at home with his pretty\nloving ways. \"I love them both alike, my lord,\" he said at last.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Gessler, and thought a minute. \"Well, Tell,\" he said after\na pause. \"I have heard so much of this boast of yours about hitting\napples, that I should like to see something of it. You shall shoot an\napple off your boy's head at a hundred yards' distance. That will be\neasier than shooting off a tree.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Tell, turning pale, \"you do not mean that? It is\nhorrible. I will do anything rather than that.\"\n\n\"You will shoot an apple off your boy's head,\" repeated Gessler in a\nslow and scornful voice. \"I want to see your wonderful skill, and I\ncommand you to do it at once. You have your crossbow there. Do it.\"\n\n\"I will die first,\" said Tell.\n\n\"Very well,\" said Gessler, \"but you need not think in that way to save\nyour boy. He shall die with you. Shoot, or die both of you. And, mark\nyou, Tell, see that you aim well, for if you miss you will pay for it\nwith your life.\"\n\nTell turned pale. His voice trembled as he replied, \"My lord, it was\nbut thoughtlessness. Forgive me this once, and I will always bow to\nthe cap in future.\" Proud and brave although he was, Tell could not\nbear the thought that he might kill his own child.\n\n\"Have done with this delay,\" said Gessler, growing yet more angry.\n\"You break the laws, and when, instead of punishing you as you\ndeserve, I give you a chance of escape, you grumble and think yourself\nhardly used. Were peasants ever more unruly and discontented? Have\ndone, I say. Heinz, bring me an apple.\"\n\nThe soldier hurried away.\n\n\"Bind the boy to that tree,\" said Gessler, pointing to a tall\nlime-tree near by.\n\nTwo soldiers seized Walter and bound him fast to the tree. He was\nnot in the least afraid, but stood up against the trunk straight and\nquiet. Then, when the apple was brought, Gessler rode up to him and,\nbending from the saddle, himself placed the apple upon his head.\n\nAll this time the people crowded round silent and wondering, and Tell\nstood among them as if in a dream, watching everything with a look of\nhorror in his eyes.\n\n\"Clear a path there,\" shouted Gessler, and the soldiers charged among\nthe people, scattering them right and left.\n\nWhen a path had been cleared, two soldiers, starting from the tree to\nwhich Walter was bound, marched over the ground, measuring one hundred\npaces, and halted. \"One hundred paces, my lord,\" they said, turning to\nGessler.\n\nGessler rode to the spot, calling out, \"Come, Tell, from here you\nshall shoot.\"\n\nTell took his place. He drew an arrow from his quiver, examined it\ncarefully, and then, instead of fitting it to his bow, he stuck it in\nhis belt. Then, still carefully, he chose another arrow and fitted it\nto his bow.\n\nA deep silence fell upon every one as Tell took one step forward. He\nraised his bow. A mist was before his eyes, his arm trembled, his bow\ndropped from his hand. He could not shoot. The fear that he might kill\nhis boy took away all his skill and courage.\n\nA groan broke from the people as they watched. Then from far away\nunder the lime-tree came Walter's voice, \"Shoot, father, I am not\nafraid. You cannot miss.\"\n\nOnce more Tell raised his bow. The silence seemed deeper than ever.\nThe people of Altorf knew and loved Tell, and Fuerst, and little\nWalter. And so they watched and waited with heavy hearts and anxious\nfaces.\n\n\"Ping!\" went the bowstring. The arrow seemed to sing through the\nfrosty air, and, a second later, the silence was broken by cheer after\ncheer. The apple lay upon the ground pierced right through the center.\n\nOne man sprang forward and cut the rope with which Walter was bound to\nthe tree; another picked up the apple and ran with it to Gessler. But\nTell stood still, his bow clutched in his hand, his body bent forward,\nhis eyes wild and staring, as if he were trying to follow the flight\nof the arrow. Yet he saw nothing, heard nothing.\n\n\"He has really done it!\" exclaimed Gessler in astonishment, as he\nturned the apple round and round in his hand. \"Who would have thought\nit? Right in the center, too.\"\n\nLittle Walter, quite delighted, came running to his father. \"Father,\"\nhe cried, \"I knew you could do it. I knew you could, and I was not a\nbit afraid. Was it not splendid?\" and he laughed and pressed his curly\nhead against his father.\n\nThen suddenly Tell seemed to wake out of his dream, and taking Walter\nin his arms he held him close, kissing him again and again. \"You are\nsafe, my boy. You are safe,\" was all he said. But strong man though\nhe was his eyes were full of tears, and he was saying to himself, \"I\nmight have killed him. I might have killed my own boy.\"\n\nMeanwhile Gessler sat upon his horse watching them with a cruel smile\nupon his wicked face. \"Tell,\" he said at last, \"that was a fine shot,\nbut for what was the other arrow?\"\n\nTell put Walter down and, holding his hand, turned to Gessler, \"It is\nalways an archer's custom, my lord, to have a second arrow ready,\" he\nsaid.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said Gessler, \"that answer will not do, Tell. Speak the\ntruth.\"\n\nTell was silent.\n\n\"Speak, man,\" said Gessler, \"and if you speak the truth, whatever it\nmay be, I promise you your life.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Tell, throwing his shoulders back and looking straight at\nGessler, \"since you promise me my life, hear the truth, if that first\narrow had struck my child, the second one was meant for you, and be\nsure I had not missed my mark a second time.\"\n\nGessler's face grew dark with rage. For a moment or two he could not\nspeak. When at last he did speak, his voice was low and terrible, \"You\ndare,\" he said, \"you dare to tell me this! I promised you your life\nindeed. Your life you shall have, but you shall pass it in a dark and\nlonely prison, where neither sun nor moon shall send the least glimmer\nof light. There you shall lie, so that I may be safe from you. Ah,\nmy fine archer, your bows and arrows will be of little use to you\nhenceforth. Seize him, men, and bind him, lest he do murder even now.\"\n\nIn a moment the soldiers sprang forward, and Tell was seized and\nbound.\n\nAs Gessler sat watching them, he looked round at all the angry faces\nof the crowd. \"Tell has too many friends here,\" he said to himself.\n\"If I imprison him in the Curb of Uri, they may find some way to help\nhim to escape. I will take him with me in my boat to Klissnacht. There\nhe can have no friends. There he will be quite safe.\" Then aloud he\nsaid, \"Follow me, my men. Bring him to the boat.\"\n\nAs he said these words, there was a loud murmur from the crowd. \"That\nis against the law,\" cried many voices.\n\n\"Law, law?\" growled Gessler. \"Who makes the law, you or I?\"\n\nWalter Fuerst had been standing among the crowd silent and anxious. Now\nhe stepped forward and spoke boldly. \"My lord,\" he said, \"it has ever\nbeen a law among the Swiss that no one shall be imprisoned out of his\nown canton. If my son-in-law, William Tell, has done wrong, let him be\ntried and imprisoned here, in Uri, in Altorf. If you do otherwise you\nwrong our ancient freedom and rights.\"\n\n\"Your freedom! your rights!\" said Gessler roughly. \"I tell you, you\nare here to obey the laws, not to teach me how I shall rule.\" Then\nturning his horse and calling out, \"On, men, to the boat with him,\" he\nrode towards the lake, where, at a little place called Fliielen, his\nboat was waiting for him.\n\nBut Walter clung to his father, crying bitterly. Tell could not take\nhim in his arms to comfort him, for his hands were tied. But he bent\nover him to kiss him, saying, \"Little Walter, little Walter, be brave.\nGo with thy grandfather and comfort thy mother.\"\n\nSo Tell was led to Gessler's boat, followed by the sorrowing people.\nTheir hearts were full of hot anger against the tyrant. Yet what could\nthey do? He was too strong for them.\n\nTell was roughly pushed into the boat, where he sat closely guarded on\neither side by soldiers. His bow and arrows, which had been taken from\nhim, were thrown upon a bench beside the steersman.\n\nGessler took his seat. The boat started, and was soon out on the blue\nwater of the lake. As the people of Altorf watched Tell go, their\nhearts sank. They had not known, until they saw him bound and a\nprisoner, how much they had trusted and loved him.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE ESCAPE OF WILLIAM TELL\n\n\nOn the lakes of Switzerland storms of wind arise very quickly. The\nSwiss used to dread these storms so much that they gave names to the\nwinds as if they were people. The south wind, which is the fiercest,\nthey called the Foehn. There used to be a law that when the Foehn arose,\nall fires were to be put out. For the wind whistled and blew down the\nwide chimneys like great bellows, till the fires flared up so fiercely\nthat the houses, which were built of wood, were in danger of being\nburned to the ground. Now one of these fierce storms arose.\n\nNo one noticed when Gessler's boat pushed off from the shore how dark\nthe sky had grown nor how keenly the wind was blowing. But before the\nboat had gone very far the waves began to rise, and the wind to blow\nfiercer and fiercer.\n\nSoon the little boat was tossing wildly on great white-crested waves.\nThe rowers bent to the oars and rowed with all their might. But in\nspite of all they could do, the waves broke over the boat, filling\nit with water. They were tossed here and there, until it seemed every\nminute that they would sink.\n\nPale with fear, the captain stood at the helm. He was an Austrian who\nknew nothing of the Swiss lakes, and he had never before been in such\na storm. He was helpless, and he knew that very soon the boat would be\na wreck.\n\nWrapped in his mantle, Gessler sat silent and still, watching the\nstorm. He, too, knew the danger.\n\nAs the waves dashed over him, one of Gessler's servants staggered to\nhis master's feet. \"My lord,\" he said, \"you see our need and danger,\nyet methinks there is one man on board who could save us.\"\n\n\"Who is that?\" asked Gessler.\n\n\"William Tell, your prisoner,\" replied the man. \"He is known to be one\nof the best sailors on this lake. He knows every inch of it. If any\none can save the boat, he can.\"\n\n\"Bring him here,\" said Gessler.\n\n\"It seems you are a sailor as well as an archer, Tell,\" said Gessler,\nwhen his prisoner had been brought before him. \"Can you save the boat\nand bring us to land?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Tell.\n\n\"Unbind him, then,\" said Gessler to the soldier, \"but mark you, Tell,\nyou go not free. Even although you save us, you are still my prisoner.\nDo not think to have any reward.\"\n\nThe rope which bound Tell's hands was cut, and he took his place at\nthe helm.\n\nThe waves still dashed high, the wind still howled, but under Tell's\nfirm hand the boat seemed to steady itself, and the rowers bent to\ntheir work with new courage and strength in answer to his commanding\nvoice.\n\nTell, leaning forward, peered through the darkness and the spray.\nThere was one place where he knew it would be possible to land--where\na bold and desperate man at least might land. He was looking for that\nplace. Nearer and nearer to the shore he steered. At last he was quite\nclose to it. He glanced quickly round. His bow and arrows lay beside\nhim. He bent and seized them. Then with one great leap he sprang\nashore, and as he leaped he gave the boat a backward push with his\nfoot, sending it out again into the stormy waters of the lake.\n\nThere was a wild outcry from the sailors, but Tell was free, for no\none dared to follow him. Quickly clambering up the mountain-side, he\ndisappeared among the trees.\n\nAs Tell vanished, Gessler stood up and shouted in anger, but the\nlittle boat, rocking and tossing on the waves, drifted out into the\nlake, and the Austrian sailors, to whom the shore was unknown, dared\nnot row near to it again, lest they should be dashed to pieces upon\nthe rocks. Even as it was, they expected every moment that the boat\nwould sink, and that all would be drowned. But despair seemed to\ngive the sailors fresh strength, and soon the wind fell and the waves\nbecame quieter. A few hours later, wet, weary, but safe, Gessler and\nhis company landed on the shore of Schwyz.\n\n[Illustration: WILLIAM TELL AND HIS FRIENDS.]\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nTELL'S SECOND SHOT\n\n\nAs soon as Gessler landed, he called for his horse, and silent and\ngloomy, his heart full of bitter hate against Tell and all the Swiss,\nhe mounted and rode towards his castle at Kuessnacht.\n\nBut Tell's heart, too, was full of hate and anger. That morning he had\nbeen a gentle, peace-loving man. Now all was changed. Gessler's cruel\njest had made him hard and angry. He could not forget that he might\nhave killed his own boy. He seemed to see always before him Walter\nbound to the tree with the apple on his head. Tell made up his mind\nthat Gessler should never make any one else suffer so much. There was\nonly one thing to do. That was to kill Gessler, and that Tell meant to\ndo.\n\nIf Gessler escaped from the storm, Tell was sure that he would go\nstraight to his castle at Kuessnacht. There was only one road which led\nfrom the lake to the castle, and at a place called the Hollow Way\nit became very narrow, and the banks rose steep and rugged on either\nside. There Tell made up his mind to wait for Gessler. There he meant\nto free his country from the cruel tyrant.\n\nWithout stopping for food or rest, Tell hurried through the woods\nuntil he came to the Hollow Way. There he waited and watched. Many\npeople passed along the road. There were herds with their flocks, and\ntravelers of all kinds, among them a poor woman whose husband had\nbeen put in prison by Gessler, so that now she had no home, and had to\nwander about with her children begging. She stopped and spoke to Tell,\nand the story she told of Gessler's cruelty made Tell's heart burn\nwith anger, and made him more sure than ever that the deed he meant to\ndo was just and right.\n\nThe day went on, and still Gessler did not come, and still Tell\nwaited. At last he heard the distant tramp of feet and the sound of\nvoices. Surely he had come at last. But as the sounds came nearer,\nTell knew that it could not be Gessler, for he heard music and\nlaughter, and through the Hollow Way came a gaily dressed crowd. It\nwas a wedding-party. Laughing and merry, the bride and bridegroom\nwith their friends passed along. When they were out of sight the wind\nbrought back the sound of their merry voices to Tell, as he waited\nupon the bank. They, at least, had for a time forgotten Gessler.\n\nAt last, as the sun was setting, Tell heard the tramp of horses, and a\nherald dashed along the road, shouting, \"Room for the governor. Room,\nI say.\"\n\nAs Gessler came slowly on behind, Tell could hear him talking in a\nloud and angry voice to a friend. \"Obedience I will have,\" he was\nsaying. \"I have been far too mild a ruler over this people. They grow\ntoo proud. But I will break their pride. Let them prate of freedom,\nindeed. I will crush--\" The sentence was never finished. An arrow\nwhizzed through the air, and with a groan Gessler fell, dead.\n\nTell's second arrow had found its mark.\n\nImmediately everything was in confusion. Gessler's soldiers crowded\nround, trying to do something for their master. But it was useless. He\nwas dead. Tell's aim had been true.\n\n\"Who has done this foul murder?\" cried one of Gessler's friends,\nlooking round.\n\n\"The shot was mine,\" answered Tell, from where he stood on the high\nbank. \"But no murder have I done. I have but freed an unoffending\npeople from a base and cowardly tyrant. My cause is just, let God be\nthe judge.\"\n\nAt the sound of his voice every one turned to look at Tell, as he\nstood above them calm and unafraid.\n\n\"Seize him!\" cried the man who had already spoken, as soon as he\nrecovered from his astonishment. \"Seize him, it is Tell the archer.\"\n\nFive or six men scrambled up the steep bank as fast as they could. But\nTell slipped quietly through the bushes, and when they reached the top\nhe was nowhere to be found.\n\nThe short winter's day was closing in fast, and Tell found it easy to\nescape in the darkness from Gessler's soldiers. They soon gave up the\nchase, and, returning to the road, took up their master's dead body\nand carried it to his castle at Kuessnacht There was little sorrow\nfor him, for he had been a hard master. The Austrian soldiers did not\ngrieve, and the Swiss, wherever they heard the news, rejoiced.\n\nAs soon as he was free of the soldiers, Tell turned and made for\nStauffacher's house. All through the night he walked, until he came\nto the pretty house with its red roofs and many windows which had made\nGessler so angry.\n\nNow there was no light in any of the windows, and all was still and\nquiet. But Tell knew in which of the rooms Stauffacher slept, and he\nknocked softly upon the window until he had aroused his friend.\n\n\"William Tell!\" said Stauffacher in astonishment. \"I heard from Walter\nFuerst that you were a prisoner. Thank Heaven that you are free again.\"\n\n\"I am free,\" said Tell; \"you, too, are free. Gessler is dead.\"\n\n\"Gessler dead!\" exclaimed Stauffacher. \"Now indeed have we cause for\nthankfulness. Tell me, how did it happen?\" and he drew William Tell\ninto the house.\n\nTell soon told all his story. Then Stauffacher, seeing how weary he\nwas, gave him food and made him rest.\n\nThat night Tell slept well. All next day he remained hidden in\nStauffacher's house. \"You must not go,\" said his friend, \"Gessler's\nsoldiers will be searching for you.\" But when evening came Tell crept\nout into the dark again, and kind friends rowed him across the\nlake back to Flueelen. There, where a few days before he had been a\nprisoner, he landed, now free.\n\nTell went at once to Walter Fuerst's house, and soon messengers\nwere hurrying all through the land to gather together again the\nConfederates, as those who had met on that eventful night were called.\n\nThis time they gathered with less fear and less secrecy, for was\nnot the dreaded governor dead? Not one but was glad, yet some of the\nConfederates blamed Tell, for they had all promised to wait until the\nfirst of January before doing anything. \"I know,\" said Tell, \"but he\ndrove me to it.\" And every man there who had left a little boy at home\nfelt that he too might have done the same thing.\n\nNow that Tell had struck the first blow, some of the Confederates\nwished to rise at once. But others said, \"No, it is only a few weeks\nnow until New Year's Day. Let us wait.\"\n\nSo they waited, and everything seemed quiet and peaceful in the land,\nfor the Emperor sent no governor to take Gessler's place, as he was\nfar away in Austria, too busy fighting and quarreling there to think\nof Switzerland in the meantime. \"When I have finished this war,\" he\nsaid, \"it will be time enough to crush these Swiss rebels.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO OF PERSIA\n\n\n\n\nRUSTEM\n\nADAPTED BY ALFRED J. CHURCH\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE SEVEN ADVENTURES OF RUSTEM\n\n\nKing Keikobad died, and his son Kaoues sat upon his throne. At first\nhe was a moderate and prudent prince; but finding his riches increase,\nand his armies grow more and more numerous, he began to believe that\nthere was no one equal to him in the whole world, and that he could\ndo what he would. One day as he sat drinking in one of the chambers\nof his palace, and boasting after his custom, a Genius, disguised as\na minstrel, came to the King's chamberlain, and desired to be admitted\nto the royal presence. \"I came,\" he said, \"from the country of the\nGenii, and I am a sweet singer. Maybe the King, if he were to hear me,\nwould give me a post in his court.\"\n\nThe chamberlain went to the King, and said, \"There is a minstrel at\nthe gate; he has a harp in his hand, and his voice is marvelously\nsweet.\"\n\n\"Bring him up,\" said the King.\n\nSo they brought him in, and gave him a place among the musicians,\nand commanded that he should give them a trial of his powers. So the\nminstrel, after playing a prelude on his harp, sang a song of the land\nof the Genii.\n\n\"There is no land in all the world\" this was the substance of his\nsong--\"like Mazanderan, the land of the Genii. All the year round the\nrose blooms in its gardens and the hyacinth on its hills. It knows no\nheat nor cold, only an eternal spring. The nightingales sing in its\nthicket, and through its valleys wander the deer, and the water of its\nstream is as the water of roses, delighting the soul with its perfume.\nOf its treasures there is no end; the whole country is covered with\ngold and embroidery and jewels. No man can say that he is happy unless\nhe has seen Mazanderan.\"\n\nWhen the King heard this song, he immediately conceived the thought\nof marching against this wonderful country. Turning, therefore, to his\nwarriors, he said: \"We are given over to feasting; but the brave must\nnot suffer himself to rest in idleness. I am wealthier and, I doubt\nnot, stronger than all the kings that have gone before me; it becomes\nme also to surpass them in my achievements. We will conquer the land\nof Genii.\"\n\nThe warriors of the King were little pleased to hear such talk from\nhis lips. No one ventured to speak, but their hearts were full of\ntrouble and fear, for they had no desire to fight against the Genii.\n\n\"We are your subjects, O King,\" they said, \"and will do as you\ndesire.\" But when they were by themselves, and could speak openly,\nthey said one to another, \"What a trouble is this that has come of\nour prosperous fortune! Unless by good fortune the King forgets this\npurpose of his, we and the whole country are lost. Jemshid, whom the\nGenii and the Peris and the very birds of the air used to obey, never\nventured to talk in this fashion of Mazanderan, or to seek war against\nthe Genii; and Feridun, though he was the wisest of kings, and skilful\nin all magical arts, never cherished such a plan.\" So they sat,\noverwhelmed with anxiety.\n\nAt last one of them said, \"My friends, there is only one way of\nescaping from this danger. Let us send a swift dromedary to Zal of the\nwhite hair, with this message: 'Though your head be covered with dust,\ndo not stay to wash it, but come.' Perhaps Zal will give the King\nwise advice, and, telling him that this plan of his is nothing but a\ncounsel of Satan, will persuade him to change his purpose. Otherwise\nwe are lost, small and great.\"\n\nThe nobles listened to this advice, and sent a messenger to Zal,\nmounted on a swift dromedary.\n\nWhen Zal heard what had happened, he said:\n\n\"The King is self-willed. He has not yet felt either the cold or the\nheat of the world. He thinks that all men, great and small, tremble\nat his sword, and it must needs be that he learn better by experience.\nHowever, I will go; I will give him the best advice that I can. If he\nwill be persuaded by me, it will be well; but if not, the way is open,\nand Rustem shall go with his army.\" All night long he revolved these\nmatters in his heart. The next morning he went his way, and arrived at\nthe court of the King.\n\nThe King received him with all honor, bade him sit by his side, and\ninquired how he had borne the fatigue of his journey, and of the\nwelfare of Rustem, his son. Then Zal spoke:\n\n\"I have heard, my lord, that you are forming plans against the land of\nthe Genii. Will it please you to listen to me? There have been mighty\nkings before you, but never during all my years, which now are many,\nhas any one of them conceived in his heart such a design as this. This\nland is inhabited by Genii that are skilful in all magical arts. They\ncan lay such bonds upon men that no one is able to hurt them. No sword\nis keen enough to cut them through; riches and wisdom and valor are\nalike powerless against them. I implore you, therefore, not to waste\nyour riches, and the riches of your country and the blood of your\nwarriors, on so hopeless an enterprise.\"\n\nThe King answered, \"Doubtless it is true that the kings my\npredecessors never ventured to entertain such a plan. But am I not\nsuperior to them in courage, in power and wealth? Had they such\nwarriors as you, and Rustem your son? Do not think to turn me from my\npurpose. I will go against the country of these accursed magicians,\nand verily I will not leave one single soul alive in it, for they are\nan evil race. If you do not care to come with me, at least refrain\nfrom advising me to sit idle upon my throne.\"\n\nWhen Zal heard this answer, he said: \"You are the King, and we are\nyour slaves. Whatever you ordain is right and just, and it is only by\nthy good pleasure that we breathe and move. I have said what was in my\nheart. All that remains now is to obey, and to pray that the Ruler of\nthe world may prosper your counsels.\"\n\nWhen he had thus spoken, Zal took leave of the King, and departed for\nhis own country.\n\nThe very next day the King set out with his army for the land of the\nGenii, and, after marching for several days, pitched his tent at the\nfoot of Mount Asprus, and held a great revel all the night long with\nhis chiefs. The next morning he said, \"Choose me two thousand men who\nwill break down the gates of Mazanderan with their clubs. And take\ncare that when you have taken the city you spare neither young nor\nold, for I will rid the world of these magicians.\" They did as the\nKing commanded, and in a short space of time the city, which was\nbefore the richest and most beautiful in the whole world, was made\ninto a desert.\n\nWhen the King of Mazanderan heard of these things he called a\nmessenger, and said: \"Go to the White Genius and say to him, 'The\nPersians have come with a great army and are destroying everything.\nMake haste and help me, or there will be nothing left to preserve.'\"\n\nThe White Genius said, \"Tell the King not to be troubled; I will see\nto these Persians.\"\n\nThat same night the whole army of King Kaoues was covered with a\nwonderful cloud. The sky was dark as pitch, and there fell from it\nsuch a terrible storm of hailstones that no one could stand against\nthem. When the next morning came, lo! the King and all that had\nnot fled--for many fled to their own country--or been killed by\nthe hailstones, were blind. Seven days they remained terrified and\nhelpless. On the eighth day they heard the voice, loud as a clap of\nthunder, of the White Genius.\n\n\"King,\" said he, \"you coveted the land of Mazanderan, you entered the\ncity, you slew and took prisoners many of the people; but you did not\nknow what I could do. And now, see, you have your desire. Your lot is\nof your own contriving.\"\n\nThe White Genius then gave over the King and his companions to the\ncharge of an army of twelve thousand Genii, and commanded that they\nshould be kept in prison, and have just so much food given them as\nshould keep them alive from day to day. Kaoues, however, contrived to\nsend by one of his warriors a message to Zal the White-haired, telling\nhim of all the troubles that had come upon him. When Zal heard the\nnews he was cut to the heart, and sent without delay for Rustem.\n\"Rustem,\" said he, \"this is no time for a man to eat and drink and\ntake his pleasure. The King is in the hands of Satan, and we must\ndeliver him. As for me, I am old and feeble; but you are of the age\nfor war. Saddle Raksh, your horse, and set forth without a moment's\ndelay. The White Genius must not escape the punishment of his misdeeds\nat your hands.\"\n\n\"The way is long,\" said Rustem; \"how shall I go?\"\n\n\"There are two ways,\" answered Zal, \"and both are difficult and\ndangerous. The King went by the longer way. The other is by far the\nshorter, a two-weeks' march and no more; but it is full of lions and\nevil Genii, and it is surrounded by darkness. Still, I would have you\ngo by it. God will be your helper; and difficult as the way may be, it\nwill have an end, and your good horse Raksh will accomplish it. And if\nit be the will of Heaven that you should fall by the hand of the White\nGenius, who can change the ordering of destiny? Sooner or later we\nmust all depart, and death should be no trouble to him who has filled\nthe earth with his glory.\"\n\n\"My father, I am ready to do your bidding,\" said Rustem.\n\"Nevertheless, the heroes of old cared not to go of their own accord\ninto the land of death; and it is only he who is weary of life that\nthrows himself in the way of a roaring lion. Still I go, and I ask for\nno help but from the justice of God. With that on my side I will break\nthe charm of the magicians. The White Genius himself shall not escape\nme.\"\n\nRustem armed himself, and went on his way.\n\nRustem made such speed that he accomplished two days' journey in one.\nBut at last, finding himself hungry and weary, and seeing that there\nwere herds of wild asses in the plain which he was traversing, he\nthought that he would catch one of them for his meal, and rest for the\nnight. So pressing his knees into his horse's side, he pursued one\nof them. There was no escape for the swiftest beast when Rustem was\nmounted on Raksh, and in a very short time a wild ass was caught with\nthe lasso. Rustem struck a light with a flintstone, and making a fire\nwith brambles and branches of trees, roasted the ass and ate it for\nhis meal. This done he took the bridle from his horse, let him loose\nto graze upon the plain, and prepared himself to sleep in a bed of\nrushes. Now in the middle of this bed of rushes was a lion's lair, and\nat the end of the first watch the lion came back, and was astonished\nto see lying asleep on the rushes a man as tall as an elephant, with a\nhorse standing near him. The lion said to himself, \"I must first tear\nthe horse, and then the rider will be mine whenever I please.\" So he\nleaped at Raksh; but the horse darted at him like a flash of fire, and\nstruck him on the head with his fore feet. Then he seized him by the\nback with his teeth, and battered him to pieces on the earth. When\nRustem awoke and saw the dead lion, which indeed was of a monstrous\nsize, he said to Raksh, \"Wise beast, who bade you fight with a lion?\nIf you had fallen under his claws, how should I have carried to\nMazanderan this cuirass and helmet, this lasso, my bow and my sword?\"\nThen he went to sleep again; but awaking at sunrise, saddled Raksh and\nwent on his way.\n\nHe had now to accomplish the most difficult part of his journey,\nacross a waterless desert, so hot that the very birds could not\nlive in it. Horse and rider were both dying of thirst, and Rustem,\ndismounting, could scarcely struggle along while he supported his\nsteps by his spear. When he had almost given up all hope, he saw\na well-nourished ram pass by. \"Where,\" said he to himself, \"is the\nreservoir from which this creature drinks?\" Accordingly he followed\nthe ram's footsteps, holding his horse's bridle in one hand and his\nsword in the other, and the ram led him to a spring. Then Rustem\nlifted up his eyes to heaven and thanked God for his mercies;\nafterwards he blessed the ram, saying, \"No harm come to thee forever!\nMay the grass of the valleys and the desert be always green for thee,\nand may the bow of him that would hunt thee be broken, for thou hast\nsaved Rustem; verily, without thee he would have been torn to pieces\nby the wild beasts of the desert.\"\n\nAfter this he caught another wild ass, and roasted him for his meal.\nThen having bathed in the spring, he lay down to sleep; but before\nhe lay down, he said to Raksh, his horse: \"Do not seek quarrel or\nfriendship with any. If an enemy come, run to me; and do not fight\neither with Genius or lion.\"\n\nAfter this he slept; and Raksh now grazed, and now galloped over the\nplain.\n\nNow it so happened that there was a great dragon that had its bed in\nthis part of the desert. So mighty a beast was it, that not even a\nGenius had dared to pass by that way. The dragon was astonished to see\na man asleep and a horse by his side, and began to make its way to\nthe horse. Raksh did as he had been bidden, and running towards his\nmaster, stamped with his feet upon the ground. Rustem awoke, and\nseeing nothing when he looked about him--for the dragon meanwhile had\ndisappeared--was not a little angry. He rebuked Raksh, and went to\nsleep again. Then the dragon came once more out of the darkness, and\nthe horse ran with all speed to his master, tearing up the ground and\nkicking. A second time the sleeper awoke, but as he saw nothing but\ndarkness round him, he was greatly enraged, and said to his faithful\nhorse:\n\n\"Why do you disturb me? If it wearies you to see me asleep, yet you\ncannot bring the night to an end. I said that if a lion came to attack\nyou, I would protect you; but I did not tell you to trouble me in this\nway. Verily, if you make such a noise again, I will cut off your head\nand go on foot, carrying all my arms and armor with me to Mazanderan.\"\n\nA third time Rustem slept, and a third time the dragon came. This\ntime Raksh, who did not venture to come near his master, fled over the\nplain; he was equally afraid of the dragon and of Rustem. Still his\nlove for his master did not suffer him to rest. He neighed and tore\nup the earth, till Rustem woke up again in a rage. But this time\nGod would not suffer the dragon to hide himself, and Rustem saw him\nthrough the darkness, and, drawing his sword, rushed at him.\n\nBut first he said, \"Tell me your name; my hand must not tear your soul\nfrom your body before I know your name.\"\n\nThe dragon said, \"No man can ever save himself from my claws; I have\ndwelt in this desert for ages, and the very eagles have not dared to\nfly across. Tell me then your name, bold man. Unhappy is the mother\nthat bore you.\"\n\n\"I am Rustem, son of Zal of the white hair,\" said the hero, \"and there\nis nothing on earth that I fear.\"\n\nThen the dragon threw itself upon Rustem. But the horse Raksh laid\nback his ears, and began to tear the dragon's back with his teeth,\njust as a lion might have torn it.\n\nThe hero stood astonished for a while; then, drawing his sword,\nsevered the monster's head from his body. Then, having first bathed,\nhe returned thanks to God, and mounting on Raksh, went his way.\n\nAll that day he traveled across the plain, and came at sunset to the\nland of the magicians. Just as the daylight was disappearing, he spied\na delightful spot for his night's encampment. There were trees and\ngrass, and a spring of water. And beside the spring there was a flagon\nof red wine, and a roast kid, with bread and salt and confectionery\nneatly arranged. Rustem dismounted, unsaddled his horse, and looked\nwith astonishment at the provisions thus prepared. It was the meal of\ncertain magicians, who had vanished when they saw him approach.\n\nOf this he knew nothing, but sitting down without question, filled a\ncup with wine, and taking a harp which he found lying by the side of\nthe flagon, sang:\n\n  \"The scourge of the wicked am I,\n  And my days still in battle go by;\n  Not for me is the red wine that glows\n  In the reveler's cup, nor the rose\n  That blooms in the land of delight;\n  But with monsters and demons to fight.\"\n\nThe music and the voice of the singer reached the ears of a witch that\nwas in those parts. Forthwith, by her art, she made her face as fair\nas spring, and, approaching Rustem, asked him how he fared, and sat\ndown by his side. The hero thanked Heaven that he had thus found in\nthe desert such good fare and excellent company; for he did not know\nthat the lovely visitor was a witch. He welcomed her, and handed her\na cup of wine; but, as he handed it, he named the name of God, and at\nthe sound her color changed, and she became as black as charcoal.\n\nWhen Rustem saw this, quick as the wind he threw his lasso over her\nhead.\n\n\"Confess who you are,\" he cried; \"show yourself in your true shape.\"\n\nThen the witch was changed into a decrepit, wrinkled old woman. Rustem\ncut her in halves with a blow of his sword.\n\nThe next day he continued his journey with all the speed that he could\nuse, and came to a place where it was utterly dark. Neither sun, nor\nmoon, nor stars could be seen; and all that the hero could do was to\nlet the reins fall on his horse's neck, and ride on as chance might\ndirect.\n\nIn time he came to a most delightful country, where the sun was\nshining brightly, and where the ground was covered with green. Rustem\ntook off his cuirass of leopard-skin, and his helmet, and let Raksh\nfind pasture where he could in the fertile fields, and lay down to\nsleep. When the keeper of the fields saw the horse straying among\nthem and feeding, he was filled with rage; and running up to the hero,\ndealt him with his stick a great blow upon the feet.\n\nRustem awoke.\n\n\"Son of Satan,\" said the keeper, \"why do you let your horse stray in\nthe cornfields?\"\n\nRustem leaped upon the man, and without uttering a word good or bad,\nwrenched his ears from his head.\n\nNow the owner of this fertile country was a young warrior of renown\nnamed Aulad. The keeper ran up to him with his ears in his hand, and\nsaid:\n\n\"There has come to this place a son of Satan, clad in a cuirass of\nleopard-skin, with an iron helmet. I was going to drive his horse out\nof the cornfields, when he leaped upon me, tore my ears from my head\nwithout saying a single word, and then lay down to sleep again.\"\n\nAulad was about to go hunting with his chiefs; but when he heard the\nkeeper's story he altered his plan, and set out to the place where\nhe heard that Rustem had been seen. Rustem, as soon as he saw him\napproach, and a great company with him, ran to Raksh, leaped on his\nback, and rode forward. Aulad said to him, \"Who are you? What are you\ndoing here? Why did you pluck off my keeper's ears and let your horse\nfeed in the cornfields?\"\n\n\"If you were to hear my name,\" said Rustem, \"it would freeze the blood\nin your heart.\"\n\nSo saying he drew his sword, and fastening his lasso to the bow of his\nsaddle, rushed as a lion rushes into the midst of a herd of oxen. With\nevery blow of his sword he cut off a warrior's head, till the whole\nof Aulad's company was either slain or scattered. Aulad himself he did\nnot kill, but throwing his lasso, caught him by the neck, dragged him\nfrom his horse, and bound his hands. \"Now,\" said he, \"if you will tell\nme the truth, and, without attempting to deceive, will show me where\nthe White Genius dwells, and will guide me to where King Kaoues is kept\nprisoner, then I will make you king of Mazanderan. But if you speak a\nword of falsehood you die.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" said Aulad; \"I will do what you desire. I will show\nyou where the King is imprisoned. It is four hundred miles from this\nplace; and four hundred miles farther, a difficult and dangerous way,\nis the dwelling of the White Genius. It is a cavern so deep that no\nman has ever sounded it, and it lies between two mountains. Twelve\nthousand Genii watch it during the night, for the White Genius is the\nchief and master of all his tribe. You will find him a terrible enemy,\nand, for all your strong arms and hands, your keen sword, your lance\nand your club, you will scarcely be able to conquer him; and when you\nhave conquered him, there will still be much to be done. In the city\nof the King of Mazanderan there are thousands of warriors, and not\na coward among them; and besides these, there are two hundred\nwar-elephants. Were you made of iron, could you venture to deal alone\nwith these sons of Satan?\"\n\nRustem smiled when he heard this, and said, \"Come with me, and you\nwill see what a single man, who puts his trust in God, can do. And now\nshow me first the way to the King's prison.\"\n\nRustem mounted on Raksh, and rode gaily forward, and Aulad ran in\nfront of him. For a whole day and night he ran, nor ever grew tired,\ntill they reached the foot of Mount Asprus, where King Kaoues had\nfallen into the power of the Genii. About midnight they heard a great\nbeating of drums, and saw many fires blaze up.\n\nRustem said to Aulad, \"What mean these fires that are blazing up to\nright and left of us?\"\n\nAulad answered, \"This is the way into Mazanderan. The great Genius\nArzeng must be there.\"\n\nThen Rustem went to sleep; and when he woke in the morning he took\nhis lasso and fastened Aulad to the trunk of a tree. Then hanging his\ngrandfather's club to his saddlebow, he rode on.\n\nHis conflict with Arzeng, the chief of the army of the Genii, was\nsoon finished. As he approached the camp he raised his battle-cry.\nHis shout was loud enough, one would have said, to split the very\nmountains; and Arzeng, when he heard it, rushed out of his tent.\nRustem set spurs to his horse, and galloping up to the Genius, caught\nhim by the head, tore it from the body, and threw it into the midst\nof the army. When the Genii saw it, and caught sight also of the great\nclub, they fled in the wildest confusion, fathers trampling upon their\nsons in their eagerness to escape. The hero put the whole herd of them\nto the sword, and then returned as fast as he could to the place where\nhe had left Aulad bound to the tree. He unloosed the knots of the\nlasso, and bidding him lead the way to the prison-house of the King,\nset spurs to Raksh, Aulad running in front as before.\n\nWhen they entered the town, Raksh neighed. His voice was as loud as\nthunder, and the King heard it, and in a moment understood all that\nhad happened. \"That is the voice of Raksh,\" he said to the Persians\nthat were with him; \"our evil days are over. This was the way in which\nhe neighed in King Kobad's time, when he made war on the Scythians.\"\n\nThe Persians said to themselves, \"Our poor King has lost his senses,\nor he is dreaming. There is no help for us.\" But they had hardly\nfinished speaking when the hero appeared, and did homage to the King.\nKaoues embraced him, and then said: \"If you are to help me, you must\ngo before the Genii know of your coming. So soon as the White Genius\nshall hear of the fall of Arzeng, he will assemble such an army of his\nfellows as shall make all your pains and labor lost. But you must know\nthat you have great difficulties to overcome. First, you must cross\nseven mountains, all of them occupied by troops of Genii; then you\nwill see before you a terrible cavern--more terrible, I have heard\nsay, than any other place in the world. The entrance to it is guarded\nby warrior Genii, and in it dwells the White Genius himself. He is\nboth the terror and the hope of his army. Conquer him, and all will be\nwell. A wise physician tells me that the only remedy for my blindness\nis to drop into my eyes three drops of the White Genius's blood. Go\nand conquer, if you would save your King.\"\n\nWithout any delay Rustem set forth, Raksh carrying him like the wind.\nWhen he reached the great cavern, he said to Aulad, who had guided him\non his way as before, \"The time of conflict is come. Show me the way.\"\n\nAulad answered, \"When the sun shall grow hot, the Genii will go to\nsleep. That will be your time to conquer them.\"\n\nRustem waited till the sun was at its highest, and then went forth to\nbattle. The Genii that were on guard fled at the sound of his voice,\nand he went on without finding any to resist him till he came to the\ngreat cavern of which the King had spoken. It was a terrible place\nto see, and he stood for a while with his sword in his hand, doubting\nwhat he should do. No one would choose such a spot for battle; and as\nfor escaping from it, that was beyond all hope. Long he looked into\nthe darkness, and at last he saw a monstrous shape, which seemed to\nreach across the whole breadth of the cave. It was the White Genius\nthat was lying asleep. Rustem did not attempt to surprise him in his\nsleep, but woke him by shouting his battle-cry. When the White Genius\nsaw him, he rushed at once to do battle with him. First he caught up\nfrom the ground a stone as big as a millstone and hurled it at him.\nFor the first time Rustem felt a thrill of fear, so terrible was his\nenemy. Nevertheless, gathering all his strength, he struck at him a\ngreat blow with his sword and cut off one of his feet. The monster,\nthough having but one foot, leaped upon him like a wild elephant, and\nseized him by the breast and arms, hoping to throw him to the ground,\nand tore from his body great pieces of flesh, so that the whole place\nwas covered with blood. Rustem said to himself, \"If I escape to-day\nI shall live forever;\" and the White Genius thought, \"Even if I\ndo deliver myself from the claws of this dragon, I shall never see\nMazanderan again.\" Still he did not lose courage, but continued to\nstruggle against the hero with all his might.\n\nSo the two fought together, the blood and sweat running from them in\ngreat streams. At last Rustem caught the Genius round the body, and,\nputting out all his strength, hurled him to the ground with such force\nthat his soul was driven out of his body. Then he plunged his poinard\ninto the creature's heart, and tore the liver out of his body. This\ndone he returned to Aulad, whom he had left bound with his lasso,\nloosed him, and set out for the place where he had left the King. But\nfirst Aulad said to him, \"I have the marks of your bonds upon me; my\nbody is bruised with the knots of your lasso; I beseech you to respect\nthe promise which you made me of a reward. A hero is bound to keep his\nword.\"\n\nRustem said: \"I promised that you should be King of Mazanderan, and\nKing you shall be. But I have much to do before my word can be kept. I\nhave a great battle to fight, in which I may be conquered, and I must\nrid this country of the magicians with whom it is encumbered. But be\nsure that, when all is done, I will not fail of the promises which I\nhave made.\"\n\nSo Rustem returned to King Kaoues, and, dropping the blood of the White\nGenius into his eyes, gave him back his sight. Seven days the King\nand his nobles feasted together, Rustem having the chief place. On the\neighth day they set out to clear the country of the accursed race of\nmagicians. When they had done this, the King said, \"The guilty have\nnow been punished. Let no others suffer. And now I will send a letter\nto the King of Mazanderan.\"\n\nSo the King wrote a letter in these words: \"You see how God has\npunished the wrong-doers--how he has brought to naught the Genii and\nthe magicians. Quit then your town, and come here to pay homage and\ntribute to me. If you will not, then your life shall be as the life of\nArzeng and the White Genius.\"\n\nThis letter was carried to the King by a certain chief named Ferbad.\nWhen the King had read it, he was greatly troubled. Three days he kept\nFerbad as his guest, and then sent back by him this answer: \"Shall the\nwater of the sea be equal to wine? Am I one to whom you can say, 'Come\ndown from your throne, and present yourself before me?' Make ready\nto do battle with me, for verily I will bring upon the land of Persia\nsuch destruction that no man shall be able to say what is high and\nwhat is low.\"\n\nFerbad hastened back to the King of Persia. \"The man,\" he said, \"is\nresolved not to yield.\" Then the King sent to Rustem. And Rustem said,\n\"Send me with a letter that shall be as keen as a sword and a message\nlike a thunder-cloud.\" So the King sent for a scribe, who, making\nthe point of his reed as fine as an arrowhead, wrote thus: \"These\nare foolish words, and do not become a man of sense. Put away your\narrogance, and be obedient to my words. If you refuse, I will bring\nsuch an army against you as shall cover your land from one sea to the\nother; and the ghost of the White Genius shall call the vultures to\nfeast on your brains.\"\n\nThe King set his seal to this letter, and Rustem departed with it,\nwith his club hanging to his saddlebow. When the King of Mazanderan\nheard of his coming, he sent some of his nobles to meet him. When\nRustem saw them, he caught a huge tree that was by the wayside in his\nhands, twisted it with all his might, and tore it up, roots and all.\nThen he poised it in his hand as if it were a javelin. One of the\nnobles, the strongest of them all, rode up to him, caught one of his\nhands, and pressed it with all his might. Rustem only smiled; but\nwhen in his turn he caught the noble's hand in his, he crushed all the\nveins and bones, so that the man fell fainting from his horse.\n\nWhen the King heard what had been done, he called one of his warriors,\nKalahour by name, the strongest man in his dominions, and said to him,\n\"Go and meet this messenger; show him your prowess, and cover his face\nwith shame.\" So Kalahour rode to meet Rustem, and, taking him by the\nhand, wrung it with all the strength of an elephant. The hand turned\nblue with the pain, but the hero did not flinch or give any sign of\npain. But when in his turn he wrung the hand of Kalahour, the nails\ndropped from it as the leaves drop from a tree. Kalahour rode back,\nhis hand hanging down, and said to the King, \"It will be better for\nyou to make peace than to fight with this lion, whose strength is such\nthat no man can stand against him. Pay this tribute, and we will make\nit good to you. Otherwise we are lost.\"\n\nAt this moment Rustem rode up. The King gave him a place at his right\nhand, and asked him of his welfare. Rustem, for answer, gave him\nthe letter of Kei-Kaoeus. When the King had read the letter, his face\nbecame black as thunder. Then he said, \"Carry back this answer to your\nmaster: 'You are lord of Persia, and I of Mazanderan. Be content; seek\nnot that which is not yours. Otherwise your pride will lead you to\nyour fall.'\"\n\nThe King would have given Rustem royal gifts, robes of honor, and\nhorses, and gold. But the hero would have none of them, but went away\nin anger. When he had returned to the King of Persia, he said to him,\n\"Fear nothing, but make ready for battle. As for the warriors of this\nland of Mazanderan, they are nothing; I count them no better than a\ngrain of dust.\"\n\nMeanwhile the king of the magicians prepared for war. He gathered an\narmy, horsemen and foot-soldiers and elephants, that covered the face\nof the earth, and approached the borders of Persia; and, on the other\nhand, King Kaoues marshaled his men of war and went out to encounter\nhim. The King himself took his place in the center of the line of\nbattle, and in front of all stood the great Rustem.\n\nOne of the nobles of Mazanderan came out of their line, with a great\nclub in his hands, and approaching the Persian army, cried in a loud\nvoice, \"Who is ready to fight with me? He should be one who is able to\nchange water into dust.\"\n\nNone of the Persian nobles answered him, and King Kaoues said, \"Why\nis it, ye men of war, that your faces are troubled, and your tongues\nsilent before this Genius?\"\n\nBut still the nobles made no answer. Then Rustem caught the rein of\nhis horse, and, putting the point of his lance over his shoulder, rode\nup to the King, and said, \"Will the King give me permission to fight\nwith this Genius?\"\n\nThe King said, \"The task is worthy of you, for none of the Persians\ndare to meet this warrior. Go and prosper!\"\n\nSo Rustem set spurs to Raksh, and rode against the warrior who had\nchallenged the Persians.\n\n\"Hear,\" he said, as soon as he came near, \"your name is blotted out of\nthe list of the living; for the moment is come when you shall suffer\nthe recompense of all your misdeeds.\"\n\nThe warrior answered, \"Boast not yourself so proudly. My sword makes\nmothers childless.\"\n\nWhen Rustem heard this, he cried with a voice of thunder, \"I am\nRustem!\" and the warrior, who had no desire to fight the champion\nof the world, turned his back and fled. But Rustem pursued him, and\nthrust at him with his lance where the belt joins the coat of mail,\nand pierced him through, for the armor could not turn the point of the\ngreat spear. Then he lifted him out of his saddle, and raised him up\nin the air, as if he were a bird which a man had run through with a\nspit. This done, he dashed him down dead upon the ground, and all the\nnobles of Mazanderan stood astonished at the sight.\n\nAfter this the two armies joined battle. The air grew dark, and the\nflashing of the swords and clubs flew like the lightning out of\na thunder-cloud, and the mountains trembled with the cries of the\ncombatants. Never had any living man seen so fierce a fight before.\n\nFor seven days the battle raged, and neither the one side nor the\nother could claim the victory. On the eighth day King Kaoues bowed\nhimself before God, taking his crown from his head, and prayed with\nhis face to the ground, saying, \"O Lord God, give me, I beseech thee,\nthe victory over the Genii who fear thee not.\"\n\nThen he set his helmet on his head, and put himself at the head of his\narmy. First of all Rustem began the attack, charging the center of the\nenemy's army. He directed his course straight to the place where the\nKing of Mazanderan stood, surrounded with his chiefs and a great\nhost of elephants. When the King saw the shine of his lance, he lost\ncourage, and would have fled. But Rustem, with a cry like a lion's\nroar, charged him, and struck him on the girdle with his spear. The\nspear pierced the steel, and would have slain the King, but that by\nhis magic art he changed himself, before the eyes of all the Persian\narmy, into a mass of rock. Rustem stood astonished to see such a\nmarvel.\n\nWhen King Kaoues came up with his warriors, he said to Rustem, \"What is\nit? What ails you that you tarry here, doing no thing?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" answered Rustem, \"I charged the King of Mazanderan, spear\nin hand; I struck him on the girdle, but when I thought to see him\nfall from his saddle, he changed himself into a rock before my eyes,\nand now he feels nothing that I can do.\"\n\nThen King Kaoues commanded that they should take up the rock and put\nit before his throne. But when the strongest men in the army came\nto handle the rock, or sought to draw it with cords, they could do\nnothing; it remained immovable. Rustem, however, without any one to\nhelp him, lifted it from the earth, and carrying it into the camp,\nthrew it down before the King's tent, and said, \"Give up these\ncowardly tricks and the art of magic, else I will break this rock into\npieces.\"\n\nWhen the King of Mazanderan heard this, he made himself visible, black\nas a thunder-cloud, with a helmet of steel upon his head and a coat of\nmail upon his breast. Rustem laughed, and caught him by the hand, and\nbrought him before the King.\n\n\"See,\" said he, \"this lump of rock, who, for fear of the hatchet has\ngiven himself up to me!\"\n\nWhen Kaoues looked at him and observed how savage of aspect he was,\nwith the neck and tusks of a wild boar, he saw that he was not worthy\nto sit upon a throne, and bade the executioner take him away and cut\nhim in pieces. This done, he sent to the enemies' camp, and commanded\nthat all the spoil, the King's throne, and his crown and girdle,\nthe horses and the armor, the swords and jewels, should be gathered\ntogether. Then he called up his army, and distributed to them rewards\nin proportion to what they had done and suffered. After this he spent\nseven days in prayer, humbling himself before God, and offering up\nthanksgiving. On the eighth day he seated himself on his throne, and\nopened his treasures, and gave to all that had need. Thus he spent\nanother seven days. On the fifteenth day, he called for wine and cups\nof amber and rubies, and sat for seven days on his throne, with the\nwine-cup in his hand.\n\nHe sent for Rustem, and said, \"It is of your doing, by your strength\nand courage, that I have recovered my throne.\"\n\nRustem answered, \"A man must do his duty. As for the honors that you\nwould give me, I owe them all to Aulad, who has always guided me on\nthe right way. He hopes to be made king of Mazanderan. Let the King,\ntherefore, if it please him, invest him with the crown.\"\n\nAnd this the King did.\n\nThe next day Kaoues and his army set out to return to the land of\nPersia. When he had reached his palace, he seated himself upon his\nthrone, and sending for Rustem, put him at his side.\n\nRustem said, \"My lord, permit me to go back to the old man Zal, my\nfather.\"\n\nThe King commanded that they should bring splendid presents for the\nhero. The presents were these: A throne of turquoise, adorned with\nrams' heads; a royal crown set about with jewels; a robe of brocade of\ngold, such as is worn by the King of kings; a bracelet and a chain of\ngold; a hundred maidens, with faces fair as the full moon, and girdles\nof gold; a hundred youths, whose hair was fragrant with musk; a\nhundred horses, harnessed with gold and silver; a hundred mules with\nblack hair, with loads of brocade that came from the land of Room and\nfrom Persia. After these they brought and laid at the hero's feet a\nhundred purses filled with gold pieces; a cup of rubies, filled with\npure musk; another cup of turquoise, filled with attar of roses; and,\nlast of all, a letter written on pages of silk, in ink made of wine\nand aloes and amber and the black of lamps. By this letter the King of\nkings gave anew to Rustem the kingdom of the south. Then Kaoues blessed\nhim, and said: \"May you live as long as men shall see the sun and the\nmoon in heaven! May the great of the earth join themselves to you! May\nyour own soul be full of modesty and tenderness!\"\n\nRustem prostrated himself on the earth, and kissed the throne; and so\ntook his departure.\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF BEST BOOKS OF MYTHS AND LEGENDS\n\nASHTON, T. _Romances of Chivalry_\n\nBALDWIN, J. _The Story of Siegfried_\n\nBALDWIN, J. _The Story of Roland_\n\nBARING-GOULD, S. _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_\n\nBROOKS, E. _The Story of the AEneid_\n\nBROOKS, E. _The Story of the Odyssey_\n\nBULFINCH, T. _The Age of Chivalry_\n\nBULFINCH, T. _Legends of Charlemagne_\n\nBURNS, J. _Popular Tales and Legends_\n\nCLODD, E. _The Birth and Growth of Myths_\n\nCLODD, E. _The Childhood of Religions_\n\nCOOKER, F.J. _Nature Myths and Stories_\n\nCOX, G.W. _Tales of Ancient Greece_\n\nCOX, G.W. _Popular Romances of the Middle Ages_\n\nCRANE, F.T. _Italian Popular Tales_\n\nCROMMELIN, MARY _Famous Legends_\n\nCURTIN, J. _Myths and Folk Tales of the Russians_\n\nDRAKE, S.A. _North-East Legends_\n\nDU MAURIER, GEORGE. _Legend of Camelot_\n\nEDWARDSON, E. _The Courteous Knight_\n\nEMMERSON, ELLEN RUSSELL _Indian Myths_\n\nFISK, JOHN. _Myths and Myth Makers_\n\nFRANCILLON, R.E. _Gods and Heroes_\n\nGAYLEY, F. _Classic Myths_\n\nGRINNEL, G.B. _Blackfoot Lodge Tales_\n\nGUERBER, H.A. _Myths of Northern Lands_\n\nGUERBER, H.A. _Myths of Greece and Rome_\n\nHALL, J. _Legends of the West_\n\nHAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL _Tanglewood Tales_\n\nHAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL _The Wonder Book_\n\nHEARN, LAFCADIO _Some Chinese Ghosts_\n\nHOLBROOK, F. _The Book of Nature's Myths_\n\nHULME, F.E. _Mythland_\n\nHUNT, R. _Popular Romances of the West of England_\n\nIRVING, WASHINGTON _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_\n\nJACOBS, JOSEPH _The Book of Wonder Voyages_\n\nKENNEDY, PATRICK _Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts_\n\nKINGSLEY, CHARLES. _Greek Heroes_\n\nKUPLER, GRACE H._Stories of Long Ago_\n\nLANG, ANDREW _Modern Mythology_\n\nLANIER, SYDNEY _The Boy's King Arthur_\n\nLANIER, SYDNEY _The Boy's Mabinogion_\n\nLANIER, SYDNEY _The Boy's Percy_\n\nLANIER, SYDNEY _The Boy's Froissart_\n\nLEITZ, A.F. _Legends and Stories_\n\nLOVER, SAMUEL _Legends and Stories of Ireland_\n\nMABIE, H.W. _Norse Tales_\n\nMABIE, H.W. (ED.) _Myths that Every Child should Know_\n\nMACAULAY, LORD _Lays of Ancient Rome_\n\nMACDONALD, GEORGE _The Light Princess_\n\nMAGNUSSON AND MORRIS _The Saga Library_\n\nMITCHELL, S.W. _Prince Little Boy_\n\nNUTT, ALFRED _Folk Lore_\n\nPRATT-CHADWICK, M.L. _Legends of the Red Children_\n\nPYLE, HOWARD. _Story of King Arthur_\n\nRALSTON, W.R.S._Russian Folk Tales_\n\nSAINTINE, X.B. _Myths of the Rhine_\n\nSCHRAMMEM, J. _Legends of German Heroes of the Middle Ages_\n\nSCUDDER, H.E. _The Book of Legends_\n\nSCUDDER, H.E. _The Children's Book_\n\nSCUDDER, H.E. _The Book of Folk Stories_\n\nSKINNER, C.M. _Myths and Legends_\n\nSOUTHEY, R. _Chronicles of the Cid_\n\nTANNER, D. _Legends from the Red Man's Forest_\n\nTAPPAN, E.M. _Robin Hood: His Book_\n\nWILDE, LADY _Ancient Legends_","title":"Young Folks' Treasury, Volume 2 (of 12): Myths and Legendary Heroes","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":190673}