sun-speckled shadows over it, and hills fencing it in from the rough
weather. At no great distance, they beheld a river gleaming in the
sunshine. A home feeling stole into the heart of poor Cadmus. He was
very glad to know that here he might awake in the morning, without the
necessity of pulling on his dusty sandals to travel farther and farther.
The days and the years would pass over him, and find him still in this
pleasant spot. If he could have had his brothers with him, and his
friend Thasus, and could have seen his dear mother under a roof of his
own, he might here have been happy, after all their disappointments.
Some day or other, too, his sister Europa might have come quietly to the
door of his home, and smiled round upon the familiar faces. But, indeed,
since there was no hope of regaining the friends of his boyhood, or
ever seeing his dear sister again, Cadmus resolved to make himself happy
with these new companions, who had grown so fond of him while following
the cow.
"Yes, my friends," said he to them, "this is to be our home. Here we
will build our habitations. The brindled cow, which has led us hither,
will supply us with milk. We will cultivate the neighboring soil, and
lead an innocent and happy life."
His companions joyfully assented to this plan; and, in the first place,
being very hungry and thirsty, they looked about them for the means of
providing a comfortable meal. Not far off, they saw a tuft of trees,
which appeared as if there might be a spring of water beneath them. They
went thither to fetch some, leaving Cadmus stretched on the ground along
with the brindled cow; for, now that he had found a place of rest, it
seemed as if all the weariness of his pilgrimage, ever since he left
King Agenor's palace, had fallen upon him at once. But his new friends
had not long been gone, when he was suddenly startled by cries, shouts,
and screams, and the noise of a terrible struggle, and in the midst of
it all, a most awful hissing, which went right through his ears like a
rough saw.
Running towards the tuft of trees, he beheld the head and fiery eyes of
an immense serpent or dragon, with the widest jaws that ever a dragon
had, and a vast many rows of horribly sharp teeth. Before Cadmus could
reach the spot, this pitiless reptile had killed his poor companions,
and was busily devouring them, making but a mouthful of each man.
It appears that the fountain of water was enchanted, and that the dragon
had been set to guard it, so that no mortal might ever quench his thirst
there. As the neighboring inhabitants carefully avoided the spot, it was
now a long time (not less than a hundred years, or thereabouts) since
the monster had broken his fast; and, as was natural enough, his
appetite had grown to be enormous, and was not half satisfied by the
poor people whom he had just eaten up. When he caught sight of Cadmus,
therefore, he set up another abominable hiss, and flung back his immense
jaws, until his mouth looked like a great red cavern, at the farther end
of which were seen the legs of his last victim, whom he had hardly had
time to swallow.
But Cadmus was so enraged at the destruction of his friends, that he
cared neither for the size of the dragon's jaws nor for his hundreds of
sharp teeth. Drawing his sword, he rushed at the monster, and flung
himself right into his cavernous mouth. This bold method of attacking
him took the dragon by surprise; for, in fact, Cadmus had leaped so far
down into his throat, that the rows of terrible teeth could not close
upon him, nor do him the least harm in the world. Thus, though the
struggle was a tremendous one, and though the dragon shattered the tuft
of trees into small splinters by the lashing of his tail, yet, as Cadmus
was all the while slashing and stabbing at his very vitals, it was not
long before the scaly wretch bethought himself of slipping away. He had
not gone his length, however, when the brave Cadmus gave him a
sword-thrust that finished the battle; and, creeping out of the gateway
of the creature's jaws, there he beheld him still wriggling his vast
bulk, although there was no longer life enough in him to harm a little
child.
But do not you suppose that it made Cadmus sorrowful to think of the
melancholy fate which had befallen those poor, friendly people, who had
followed the cow along with him? It seemed as if he were doomed to lose
everybody whom he loved, or to see them perish in one way or another.
And here he was, after all his toils and troubles, in a solitary place,
with not a single human being to help him build a hut.
"What shall I do?" cried he aloud. "It were better for me to have been
devoured by the dragon, as my poor companions were."
"Cadmus," said a voice,--but whether it came from above or below him,
or whether it spoke within his own breast, the young man could not
tell,--"Cadmus, pluck out the dragon's teeth, and plant them in the
earth."
This was a strange thing to do; nor was it very easy, I should imagine,
to dig out all those deep-rooted fangs from the dead dragon's jaws. But
Cadmus toiled and tugged, and after pounding the monstrous head almost
to pieces with a great stone, he at last collected as many teeth as
might have filled a bushel or two. The next thing was to plant them.
This, likewise, was a tedious piece of work, especially as Cadmus was
already exhausted with killing the dragon and knocking his head to
pieces, and had nothing to dig the earth with, that I know of, unless it
were his sword-blade. Finally, however, a sufficiently large tract of
ground was turned up, and sown with this new kind of seed; although half
of the dragon's teeth still remained to be planted some other day.
Cadmus, quite out of breath, stood leaning upon his sword, and wondering
what was to happen next. He had waited but a few moments, when he began
to see a sight, which was as great a marvel as the most marvellous thing
I ever told you about.
The sun was shining slantwise over the field, and showed all the moist,
dark soil just like any other newly planted piece of ground. All at
once, Cadmus fancied he saw something glisten very brightly, first at
one spot, then at another, and then at a hundred and a thousand spots
together. Soon he perceived them to be the steel heads of spears,
sprouting up everywhere like so many stalks of grain, and continually
growing taller and taller. Next appeared a vast number of bright
sword-blades, thrusting themselves up in the same way. A moment
afterwards, the whole surface of the ground was broken up by a multitude
of polished brass helmets, coming up like a crop of enormous beans. So
rapidly did they grow, that Cadmus now discerned the fierce countenance
of a man beneath every one. In short, before he had time to think what a
wonderful affair it was, he beheld an abundant harvest of what looked
like human beings, armed with helmets and breastplates, shields, swords
and spears; and before they were well out of the earth, they brandished
their weapons, and clashed them one against another, seeming to think,
little while as they had yet lived, that they had wasted too much of
life without a battle. Every tooth of the dragon had produced one of
these sons of deadly mischief.
Up sprouted, also, a great many trumpeters; and with the first breath
that they drew, they put their brazen trumpets to their lips, and
sounded a tremendous and ear-shattering blast; so that the whole space,
just now so quiet and solitary, reverberated with the clash and clang of
arms, the bray of warlike music, and the shouts of angry men. So enraged
did they all look, that Cadmus fully expected them to put the whole
world to the sword. How fortunate would it be for a great conqueror, if
he could get a bushel of the dragon's teeth to sow!
"Cadmus," said the same voice which he had before heard, "throw a stone
into the midst of the armed men."
So Cadmus seized a large stone, and, flinging it into the middle of the
earth army, saw it strike the breastplate of a gigantic and
fierce-looking warrior. Immediately on feeling the blow, he seemed to
take it for granted that somebody had struck him; and, uplifting his
weapon, he smote his next neighbor a blow that cleft his helmet asunder,
and stretched him on the ground. In an instant, those nearest the fallen
warrior began to strike at one another with their swords and stab with
their spears. The confusion spread wider and wider. Each man smote down
his brother, and was himself smitten down before he had time to exult in
his victory. The trumpeters, all the while, blew their blasts shriller
and shriller; each soldier shouted a battle-cry and often fell with it
on his lips. It was the strangest spectacle of causeless wrath, and of
mischief for no good end, that had ever been witnessed; but, after all,
it was neither more foolish nor more wicked than a thousand battles
that have since been fought, in which men have slain their brothers with
just as little reason as these children of the dragon's teeth. It ought
to be considered, too, that the dragon people were made for nothing
else; whereas other mortals were born to love and help one another.
Well, this memorable battle continued to rage until the ground was
strewn with helmeted heads that had been cut off. Of all the thousands
that began the fight, there were only five left standing. These now
rushed from different parts of the field, and, meeting in the middle of
it, clashed their swords, and struck at each other's hearts as fiercely
as ever.
"Cadmus," said the voice again, "bid those five warriors sheathe their
swords. They will help you to build the city."
Without hesitating an instant, Cadmus stepped forward, with the aspect
of a king and a leader, and extending his drawn sword amongst them,
spoke to the warriors in a stern and commanding voice.
"Sheathe your weapons!" said he.
And forthwith, feeling themselves bound to obey him, the five remaining
sons of the dragon's teeth made him a military salute with their swords,
returned them to the scabbards, and stood before Cadmus in a rank,
eyeing him as soldiers eye their captain, while awaiting the word of
command.
These five men had probably sprung from the biggest of the dragon's
teeth, and were the boldest and strongest of the whole army. They were
almost giants, indeed, and had good need to be so, else they never could
have lived through so terrible a fight. They still had a very furious
look, and, if Cadmus happened to glance aside, would glare at one
another, with fire flashing out of their eyes. It was strange, too, to
observe how the earth, out of which they had so lately grown, was
incrusted, here and there, on their bright breastplates, and even
begrimed their faces, just as you may have seen it clinging to beets
and carrots when pulled out of their native soil. Cadmus hardly knew
whether to consider them as men, or some odd kind of vegetable;
although, on the whole, he concluded that there was human nature in
them, because they were so fond of trumpets and weapons, and so ready to
shed blood.
They looked him earnestly in the face, waiting for his next order, and
evidently desiring no other employment than to follow him from one
battle-field to another, all over the wide world. But Cadmus was wiser
than these earth-born creatures, with the dragon's fierceness in them,
and knew better how to use their strength and hardihood.
"Come!" said he. "You are sturdy fellows. Make yourselves useful! Quarry
some stones with those great swords of yours, and help me to build a
city."
The five soldiers grumbled a little, and muttered that it was their
business to overthrow cities, not to build them up. But Cadmus looked at
them with a stern eye, and spoke to them in a tone of authority, so that
they knew him for their master, and never again thought of disobeying
his commands. They set to work in good earnest, and toiled so
diligently, that, in a very short time, a city began to make its
appearance. At first, to be sure, the workmen showed a quarrelsome
disposition. Like savage beasts, they would doubtless have done one
another a mischief, if Cadmus had not kept watch over them and quelled
the fierce old serpent that lurked in their hearts, when he saw it
gleaming out of their wild eyes. But, in course of time, they got
accustomed to honest labor, and had sense enough to feel that there was
more true enjoyment in living in peace, and doing good to one's
neighbor, than in striking at him with a two-edged sword. It may not be
too much to hope that the rest of mankind will by and by grow as wise
and peaceable as these five earth-begrimed warriors, who sprang from the
dragon's teeth.
And now the city was built, and there was a home in it for each of the
workmen. But the palace of Cadmus was not yet erected, because they had
left it till the last, meaning to introduce all the new improvements of
architecture, and make it very commodious, as well as stately and
beautiful. After finishing the rest of their labors, they all went to
bed betimes, in order to rise in the gray of the morning, and get at
least the foundation of the edifice laid before nightfall. But, when
Cadmus arose, and took his way toward the site where the palace was to
be built, followed by his five sturdy workmen marching all in a row,
what do you think he saw?
What should it be but the most magnificent palace that had ever been
seen in the world? It was built of marble and other beautiful kinds of
stone, and rose high into the air, with a splendid dome and portico
along the front, and carved pillars, and everything else that befitted
the habitation of a mighty king. It had grown up out of the earth in
almost as short a time as it had taken the armed host to spring from the
dragon's teeth; and what made the matter more strange, no seed of this
stately edifice had ever been planted.
When the five workmen beheld the dome, with the morning sunshine making
it look golden and glorious, they gave a great shout.
"Long live King Cadmus," they cried, "in his beautiful palace."
And the new king, with his five faithful followers at his heels,
shouldering their pickaxes and marching in a rank (for they still had a
soldier-like sort of behavior, as their nature was), ascended the palace
steps. Halting at the entrance, they gazed through a long vista of lofty
pillars that were ranged from end to end of a great hall. At the farther
extremity of this hall, approaching slowly towards him, Cadmus beheld a
female figure, wonderfully beautiful, and adorned with a royal robe, and
a crown of diamonds over her golden ringlets, and the richest necklace
that ever a queen wore. His heart thrilled with delight. He fancied it
his long-lost sister Europa, now grown to womanhood, coming to make him
happy, and to repay him, with her sweet sisterly affection, for all
those weary wanderings in quest of her since he left King Agenor's
palace,--for the tears that he had shed, on parting with Phoenix, and
Cilix, and Thasus,--for the heart-breakings that had made the whole
world seem dismal to him over his dear mother's grave.
But, as Cadmus advanced to meet the beautiful stranger, he saw that her
features were unknown to him, although, in the little time that it
required to tread along the hall, he had already felt a sympathy twixt
himself and her.
"No, Cadmus," said the same voice that had spoken to him in the field of
the armed men, "this is not that dear sister Europa whom you have sought
so faithfully all over the wide world. This is Harmonia, a daughter of
the sky, who is given you instead of sister, and brothers, and friend,
and mother. You will find all those dear ones in her alone."
So King Cadmus dwelt in the palace, with his new friend Harmonia, and
found a great deal of comfort in his magnificent abode, but would
doubtless have found as much, if not more, in the humblest cottage by
the wayside. Before many years went by, there was a group of rosy little
children (but how they came thither has always been a mystery to me)
sporting in the great hall, and on the marble steps of the palace, and
running joyfully to meet King Cadmus when affairs of state left him at
leisure to play with them. They called him father, and Queen Harmonia
mother. The five old soldiers of the dragon's teeth grew very fond of
these small urchins, and were never weary of showing them how to
shoulder sticks, flourish wooden swords, and march in military order,
blowing a penny trumpet, or beating an abominable rub-a-dub upon a
little drum.
But King Cadmus, lest there should be too much of the dragon's tooth in
his children's disposition, used to find time from his kingly duties to
teach them their A B C,--which he invented for their benefit, and for
which many little people, I am afraid, are not half so grateful to him
as they ought to be.
Circe's Palace
Some of you have heard, no doubt, of the wise King Ulysses, and how he
went to the siege of Troy, and how, after that famous city was taken and
burned, he spent ten long years in trying to get back again to his own
little kingdom of Ithaca. At one time in the course of this weary
voyage, he arrived at an island that looked very green and pleasant, but
the name of which was unknown to him. For, only a little while before he
came thither, he had met with a terrible hurricane, or rather a great
many hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of vessels into a strange
part of the sea, where neither himself nor any of his mariners had ever
sailed. This misfortune was entirely owing to the foolish curiosity of
his shipmates, who, while Ulysses lay asleep, had untied some very bulky
leathern bags, in which they supposed a valuable treasure to be
concealed. But in each of these stout bags, King AEolus, the ruler of the
winds, had tied up a tempest, and had given it to Ulysses to keep, in
order that he might be sure of a favorable passage homeward to Ithaca;
and when the strings were loosened, forth rushed the whistling blasts,
like air out of a blown bladder, whitening the sea with foam, and
scattering the vessels nobody could tell whither.
Immediately after escaping from this peril, a still greater one had
befallen him. Scudding before the hurricane, he reached a place, which,
as he afterwards found, was called Laestrygonia, where some monstrous
giants had eaten up many of his companions, and had sunk every one of
his vessels, except that in which he himself sailed, by flinging great
masses of rock at them, from the cliffs along the shore. After going
through such troubles as these, you cannot wonder that King Ulysses was
glad to moor his tempest-beaten bark in a quiet cove of the green
island, which I began with telling you about. But he had encountered so
many dangers from giants, and one-eyed Cyclopes, and monsters of the sea
and land, that he could not help dreading some mischief, even in this
pleasant and seemingly solitary spot. For two days, therefore, the poor
weather-worn voyagers kept quiet, and either stayed on board of their
vessel, or merely crept along under cliffs that bordered the shore; and
to keep themselves alive, they dug shell-fish out of the sand, and
sought for any little rill of fresh water that might be running towards
the sea.
Before the two days were spent, they grew very weary of this kind of
life; for the followers of King Ulysses, as you will find it important
to remember, were terrible gormandizers, and pretty sure to grumble if
they missed their regular meals, and their irregular ones besides. Their
stock of provisions was quite exhausted, and even the shell-fish began
to get scarce, so that they had now to choose between starving to death
or venturing into the interior of the island, where, perhaps, some huge
three-headed dragon, or other horrible monster, had his den. Such
misshapen creatures were very numerous in those days; and nobody ever
expected to make a voyage, or take a journey, without running more or
less risk of being devoured by them.
But King Ulysses was a bold man as well as a prudent one; and on the
third morning he determined to discover what sort of a place the island
was, and whether it were possible to obtain a supply of food for the
hungry mouths of his companions. So, taking a spear in his hand, he
clambered to the summit of a cliff, and gazed round about him. At a
distance, towards the centre of the island, he beheld the stately towers
of what seemed to be a palace, built of snow-white marble, and rising in
the midst of a grove of lofty trees. The thick branches of these trees
stretched across the front of the edifice, and more than half concealed
it, although, from the portion which he saw, Ulysses judged it to be
spacious and exceedingly beautiful, and probably the residence of some
great nobleman or prince. A blue smoke went curling up from the chimney,
and was almost the pleasantest part of the spectacle to Ulysses. For,
from the abundance of this smoke, it was reasonable to conclude that
there was a good fire in the kitchen, and that, at dinner-time, a
plentiful banquet would be served up to the inhabitants of the palace,
and to whatever guests might happen to drop in.
[Illustration: CIRCE'S PALACE]
With so agreeable a prospect before him, Ulysses fancied that he could
not do better than to go straight to the palace gate, and tell the
master of it that there was a crew of poor shipwrecked mariners, not far
off, who had eaten nothing for a day or two save a few clams and
oysters, and would therefore be thankful for a little food. And the
prince or nobleman must be a very stingy curmudgeon, to be sure, if, at
least, when his own dinner was over, he would not bid them welcome to
the broken victuals from the table.
Pleasing himself with this idea, King Ulysses had made a few steps in
the direction of the palace, when there was a great twittering and
chirping from the branch of a neighboring tree. A moment afterwards, a
bird came flying towards him, and hovered in the air, so as almost to
brush his face with its wings. It was a very pretty little bird, with
purple wings and body, and yellow legs, and a circle of golden feathers
round his neck, and on its head a golden tuft, which looked like a
king's crown in miniature. Ulysses tried to catch the bird. But it
fluttered nimbly out of his reach, still chirping in a piteous tone, as
if it could have told a lamentable story, had it only been gifted with
human language. And when he attempted to drive it away, the bird flew no
farther than the bough of the next tree, and again came fluttering about
his head, with its doleful chirp, as soon as he showed a purpose of
going forward.
"Have you anything to tell me, little bird?" asked Ulysses.
And he was ready to listen attentively to whatever the bird might
communicate; for at the siege of Troy, and elsewhere, he had known such
odd things to happen, that he would not have considered it much out of
the common run had this little feathered creature talked as plainly as
himself.
"Peep!" said the bird, "peep, peep, pe--weep!" And nothing else would it
say, but only, "Peep, peep, pe--weep!" in a melancholy cadence, over and
over and over again. As often as Ulysses moved forward, however, the
bird showed the greatest alarm, and did its best to drive him back, with
the anxious flutter of its purple wings. Its unaccountable behavior made
him conclude, at last, that the bird knew of some danger that awaited
him, and which must needs be very terrible, beyond all question, since
it moved even a little fowl to feel compassion for a human being. So he
resolved, for the present, to return to the vessel, and tell his
companions what he had seen.
This appeared to satisfy the bird. As soon as Ulysses turned back, it
ran up the trunk of a tree, and began to pick insects out of the bark
with its long, sharp bill; for it was a kind of wood-pecker, you must
know, and had to get its living in the same manner as other birds of
that species. But every little while, as it pecked at the bark of the
tree, the purple bird bethought itself of some secret sorrow, and
repeated its plaintive note of "Peep, peep, pe--weep!"