Half A Hundred Hero Tales Part 30

And the wind carried the news to the reeds on the thatched sheds of the farm, so that they were soon quivering to tell their tale--when the farmer came in to supper, his goodwife called to him: "Such a funny saying has been running in my head all day--where it comes from is a mystery: 'Midas has a.s.s's ears.'"

The flowers told it to the trees, and the trees told it to the birds.

Men and women learnt it they knew not how, but all who heard it found themselves forced by some mysterious impulse to repeat it to their neighbors, till all through the land of Phrygia rang the strange tidings: "Midas has a.s.s's ears!"

The hunger for gold may be cured, if taken in time; but not even a G.o.d can cure one who has a.s.s's ears and lets the secret out.

PERSEUS AND ANDROMEDA

BY V. C. TURNBULL

On the sh.o.r.es of the Great Sea there dwelt in ancient times a simple folk of shepherds and tillers of the ground, who called themselves the Blameless aethiops. They were a pious race, and wors.h.i.+ped in particular Atergatis, Queen of the Fishes. Year by year they dwelt in peace among their flocks and herds, their fields of barley and flax, and their vines that bore purple grapes on the sunny hillsides.

But a great trouble fell upon this happy folk. For the earth heaved and yawned, and the dwellings of the people fell, and the sea poured in on the land, flooding and laying waste the golden harvest fields.

Then a greater terror followed, for out of the sea rose a monster huge and terrible, such as never man had seen. Riding on the flood he came, bearing down upon the terrified people, and into his maw he swept their fattest sheep and kine, and also, alas! their fairest sons and daughters. And thus he came night after night, till the people's hearts failed them, and in their utter misery they sought counsel of their king. And King Cepheus spoke unto them, and said: "Surely, my people, ye have sinned, and offended our great sea-G.o.d. Let us go to his temple and offer gifts, and inquire of his priests, and learn which of you has sinned."

So they went with their King Cepheus to consult the priests of the sea-G.o.ds whom they wors.h.i.+ped. And when many sacrifices had been offered, the priests cast lots to find who it was who had angered the G.o.ds and caused them to plague the land. And the lot fell upon Ca.s.siopoeia, the queen.

Then Ca.s.siopoeia stood up before all the people, her ebon hair falling to her feet and her eyes s.h.i.+ning with tears, as she cried, and said: "O my friends, I have sinned in my pride, and brought this evil on your homes. For not many days since my heart was lifted up and I boasted myself fairer than all the Nereids. And they, hearing, have risen in their wrath to avenge the insult. Pardon me, O my friends, for thus have I drawn desolation upon our land."

And all the people were silent, but the priests made answer: "Truly hast thou spoken, O Queen, and a.s.suredly has thy boasting been our curse. Now, therefore, take thy daughter Andromeda and bind her to a rock on the seash.o.r.e, so that when the monster cometh again he shall see that we have given him our best, even our king's daughter.

Perchance he will have mercy and spare her when he sees our repentance, but anywise he will depart whence he came and trouble us no more."

Then King Cepheus and Queen Ca.s.siopoeia rose up and went down to their palace in grief too great for tears. And they took Andromeda, their only child, the fairest maiden in the land, and withal the tenderest and truest, and carried her down to the sea-sh.o.r.e. And all the people followed, weeping bitterly, for to many of them Andromeda had spoken kind words, and to not a few had she done gracious deeds. Yet when they thought on their own desolate homes, where no children played, they told themselves that the young princess must die for the people.

So they led Andromeda to the base of a sea-washed crag, and riveted her white arms with chains of bra.s.s to the black rock. And Ca.s.siopoeia, kissing her, cried: "O child, forgive thy wretched mother!"

And Andromeda answered: "It is not thou, mother, but the sea-G.o.d who hath done me to death."

And the queen kissed her yet again, and departed weeping. All the people followed, and night fell, and she was left alone. Out of the sky looked down the white moon behind the cloud rack, and not more fair was she than this maiden standing on the black rock like a white statue, half hid by the streaming locks that rippled to her knee.

So all night she stood and waited for her doom, most time mute with terror, but at whiles lamenting, and calling on the G.o.ds for pity. But no answer came save the thunder of the sea upon the rocks and the scream of the sea-birds wheeling between earth and sky.

Morning came, flinging roses from her car and scattering gold across the waters, and as those in bitterest pain of heart take strange note of pa.s.sing things, Andromeda's eyes, dull and despairing, watched the sea-birds at their play. Among them came one flying swifter and greater than osprey or sea-eagle, and the gulls all dived at his approach. As the winged form drew nigh Andromeda was aware that this was no sea-bird; and soon she perceived a youth, G.o.dlike and strong, whose plumed sandals carried him over the deep as lightly as if he had been indeed a bird. Blue as the sea were his eyes, and his hair shone in the morning sun like spun gold. From his shoulder floated a goat-skin, on his arm he carried a brazen s.h.i.+eld, and on his thigh hung a sword that flashed like diamonds in the sun. Straight to Andromeda he flew, and putting back the hair that covered her face he gazed into her eyes with love and pity, as he cried: "O maiden, beautiful and pitiful, what cruelty hath brought thee to this pa.s.s?"

But Andromeda, wan and weak after the terrors of the night, could only hang her head and weep. So Perseus drew his diamond sword and smote through her chains, and gathered her, set free, to his breast. But when she had wept there a little s.p.a.ce Andromeda thrust him away with a sharp cry.

"Oh, leave me!" she wailed, "for I am the accursed one, the victim offered to the angry G.o.ds. Come not between me and my doom, for I suffer in the people's place."

"Never will I leave thee," answered Perseus, "and never shalt thou suffer while I have strength to draw sword in thy defense."

But Andromeda only wept the more and begged him again to be gone, and he, thinking to calm her, again entreated to hear the story of her sad plight. So Andromeda told him why she was being offered up to the monster, and as she finished speaking, her eyes, wandering seaward, widened with horror, and she shrieked aloud: "It comes! it comes! Oh, kind and G.o.dlike youth, fly ere it is too late! Leave me; let not thine eyes behold my shameful end!"

But Perseus, kissing the tears from her face, laughed aloud and made a mock of the great fish-beast which even now, like a leviathan of the deep, could be seen plowing its way towards them across the sea.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PERSEUS AND ANDROMEDA]

"Shall I flee from a beast of the deep?" he asked. "Maiden, my father was Jupiter, king of the G.o.ds, and the great G.o.ddess Minerva hath me under her protection. From her I received this s.h.i.+eld, and from Mercury, swiftest of the G.o.ds, a cap of darkness, these sandals, and this sword. Then, at Minerva's bidding, I sped northward through regions where man nor beast hath trodden. There found I the Gray Sisters, and s.n.a.t.c.hed from them their one eye, keeping it till they told me the way to the garden of the Hesperides. And from the maidens in that garden I learned the secret dwelling-place of the gorgon Medusa, the very sight of whose face turns all men to stone. Her, at the bidding of Minerva, I slew, using the s.h.i.+eld as a mirror and looking not on the gorgon's face as I sh.o.r.e off her viper-crowned head. Seven years have these adventures filled; very far have I traveled and many perils known. And shall I now turn back from a beast of the sea?"

And he laughed again, and his laughter rang so joyously through the morning air that some comfort stole even into the sad heart of Andromeda; but still she besought him to go.

"Many hath the sea-beast slain," she pleaded; "and why should he slay thee? Shall two perish instead of one? Strong-limbed art thou and brave; but what mortal shall stand against that strength? Never have I known fairer or gentler man than thou, and why should'st thou die?

Seven years hath thy mother awaited thy homecoming, and shall her eyes see thee nevermore?"

And when she had said this, Andromeda hid her face in her hair, sobbing very bitterly as she added: "Surely some maiden longeth for thee afar; and shall she go longing to her grave?"

But ere Perseus could answer there came a roar from the sea, and looking down they saw that the monster was at hand. His great snout, pouring forth fountains of sea-water, lay already on the rocks, his vast scaly body, sh.e.l.ls clinging to its scales and seaweeds dripping down its sides, rolled like some water-logged hulk; his tail, curling, coil upon coil, to the horizon, lashed the waters till they were white with foam, and the sea-birds screamed as before him the fishes fled leaping.

Then Perseus, pausing not an instant, drew forth from under his goat-skin the fatal head of Medusa, the sight of which is death, and gripping it by its viper locks, he swooped like a hawk upon the monster as it rose to clamber up the beach. And the monster's great eyes rolled upward, blinking and wicked; but when they saw the Medusa they became fixed in a ghastly stare. And a great spasm ran through the sea-beast from snout to tail--a s.h.i.+ver, and then no motion or breath or sign of life, for that which had been a monster was now nothing but a long black rock.

Then Perseus went back to Andromeda and showed her that her enemy was indeed dead, and Andromeda, after all her sorrows, was now the happiest maiden in the land. And all the people, hearing what had happened, came down to the sh.o.r.e with laughter and dancing and singing, and carried Andromeda and Perseus to the palace of the king and queen, who sat sorrowing for their daughter, deeming her already dead. And they, when they heard the glad tidings, rose up and embraced their daughter who had come back to them, as it were, from the grave, and gave her to Perseus to wife, begging him to stay with them for a while before he carried home his bride.

So Perseus stayed with Cepheus and Ca.s.siopoeia and their dark-haired aethiopians for the s.p.a.ce of a year, teaching them many things; and after that he built himself a s.h.i.+p of cedar-wood, and in it he sailed with Andromeda to Seriphos among the Isles of Greece, where his mother had waited for him seven years. And after a little while Perseus became King of Argos in the place of his grandfather Acrisius. Long and glorious was his reign, and fair Andromeda bore him four sons and three daughters. And when after many days Perseus died, the G.o.ds took him up into the sky. Who has not seen on a starlight night Ca.s.siopoeia seated on her golden throne? There, too, is Perseus, still holding the Medusa's head, and beside him is Andromeda, still stretching out her starry arms to embrace her enstarred deliverer.

MELEAGER AND ATALANTA

BY H. P. MASKELL

When Meleager, son of Oeneus, King of Calydon, was born, his mother Althaea dreamed that she had brought forth a burning brand. The three Fates were present at the moment of his birth, and foretold his future greatness. Clotho promised that he should have bravery and courage, Lachesis uncommon strength, and Atropos that he should live as long as the fire-brand on the hearth remained whole and unburnt. Althaea no sooner heard this than she s.n.a.t.c.hed the brand from the fire and quenched it with water. Ever after she kept the brand in a safe place with jealous care, knowing that on this depended the life of her dear son.

Grown to manhood, Meleager soon became famous for his knightly prowess. He sailed with Jason in search of the Golden Fleece, and when rebellious tribes made war against his father, he fought against their army and scattered it.

A year came, long after famous as the harvest year. Never within the memory of man had there been such plenteous crops in the land of Calydon, and Oeneus the king made grateful offerings of first-fruits to the G.o.ds: corn to Ceres, wine to Bacchus, and olive oil to Minerva.

All the G.o.ds received their tribute except Diana. Diana was forgotten, and the G.o.ddess was filled with jealousy. She resented the insult to her altars, and in revenge for the neglect sent a wild boar to ravage the kingdom. This boar was huge as a full-grown ox, his eyes were flaming and bloodshot, and the bristles stood up on his neck and flanks like long spikes. It was terrible to see his foaming jaws and large tusks--like an elephant's; when he roared his breath seemed to burn up the very herbage. Wherever he went he destroyed the farmer's hopes, trampling down the young shoots, devouring the corn in the ear, breaking the vines, and stripping the olive trees. Neither dogs nor shepherds could protect the sheep from being gored by his cruel tusks.

The country folk had to fly for their lives into the walled cities.

So Meleager invited a choice band of heroes to join him and help to destroy the monster. Nearly all those who had joined in the quest for the Golden Fleece came and brought others with them. But the foremost in Meleager's eyes was the fair huntress Atalanta, daughter of Iasius.

Her robe flowed loose to the knee, held up over her left shoulder by one golden brooch, and her hair was gathered into a single knot. At her side hung an ivory quiver. It had been hard to tell whether she were youth or maid, so strong and stalwart were her limbs and so smooth her face. Meleager saw her, and loved her at first sight.

"Here," he cried, "is the one maid for me!" But this was no time or place for love-making. The mighty hunt was about to begin.

The monster had been tracked to a dense jungle, and the heroes got ready their nets and slipped the dogs. At length the pack gave tongue, and the hunters raised a shout as the boar came cras.h.i.+ng through the wood, scattering the dogs right and left, some barking, some bleeding from ugly wounds. Echion's spear only grazed a maple tree. Jason was next to throw his swift lance, but it overshot the mark. The aim of Alastus was more true, but the iron head snapped off as it hit one of the mighty tusks, and the shaft failed to wound the brute.

Like a stone from a catapult the furious boar rushed madly on among the youths; lightnings flashed from his eyes, and his breath was like a furnace; two of the huntsmen were laid low, and a third received a deadly wound; Nestor saved his life by catching in the nick of time the branch of an oak tree. Having whetted his tusks on the trunk the monster advanced once more, and gored another hero in the thigh.

Castor and Pollux, on their white horses, rushed with lances poised to despatch him; they were too late, for the boar had found safe cover in the jungle, where neither horse nor weapon could reach him.

Telamon, in his hot pursuit, was tripped up by a root. While Pelus was helping him to rise, Atalanta fitted an arrow to her bow and let fly.

Diana, who loved the maiden, guided her aim. The shaft grazed the ear of the beast, leaving the bristles streaked with red; and Meleager was just as pleased as she herself at her success in drawing the first blood. Pointing it out to his companions, he exclaimed, "The maid is peerless in archery as in beauty! She puts us men to shame!"

Stung to action by the taunt the heroes bestirred themselves, and shouted to encourage each other, but their very number confused their aim. Ancaeus, swinging his battle-ax, rushed madly to his fate, crying, "Make way for me, and I will show you how much better a man's weapon is than a girl's arrow. Though he bear a charmed life, my right hand shall finish the brute!" As he stood boasting the boar seized him and gored him through and through and through, so that the earth around was soaked with his red life-blood. Theseus stayed his dear friend, Pirithous, son of Ixion, who was making straight for the enemy just as rashly. Warning him that it was better to be valiant at a distance, he hurled his heavy lance of cornel-wood pointed with bra.s.s. It was well poised, but caught in a beech tree. Jason, too, hurled his javelin again, but by an ill-chance struck an innocent hound and pinned him to the earth.

Meleager's turn had now come, and he used his opportunity to good effect. Of two spears the first only grazed the boar's flank, the second transfixed the beast in the middle of the back. While it was writhing in agony, twisting about, covered with foam and blood, the conqueror lost no time. In a trice he had buried his gleaming blade behind the shoulder. His comrades crowded around him with shouts of joy. They marveled at the huge size of the boar as the carca.s.s lay at full length, scarcely believing it safe even yet to touch, but each dipped his weapon in the blood. Meleager himself, placing his foot on the monster's head, exclaimed, "Receive, Arcadian nymph, the spoil that is thy right, for thou didst draw first blood! Only let me share thy glory!" So saying, he laid at her feet the skin, thick with stiffened bristles, and the head and monstrous tusks. The maiden was graciously pleased to accept the offering, and the smile that she bestowed on the giver more than repaid him for all his pains and perils.