ground, he stepped boldly into the raging and foamy current, and began
to stagger away from the shore. As for the peacock, it alighted on the
old dame's shoulder. Jason's two spears, one in each hand, kept him from
stumbling, and enabled him to feel his way among the hidden rocks;
although, every instant, he expected that his companion and himself
would go down the stream, together with the drift-wood of shattered
trees, and the carcasses of the sheep and cow. Down came the cold, snowy
torrent from the steep side of Olympus, raging and thundering as if it
had a real spite against Jason, or, at all events, were determined to
snatch off his living burden from his shoulders. When he was half-way
across, the uprooted tree (which I have already told you about) broke
loose from among the rocks, and bore down upon him, with all its
splintered branches sticking out like the hundred arms of the giant
Briareus. It rushed past, however, without touching him. But the next
moment, his foot was caught in a crevice between two rocks, and stuck
there so fast, that, in the effort to get free, he lost one of his
golden-stringed sandals.
At this accident Jason could not help uttering a cry of vexation.
"What is the matter, Jason?" asked the old woman.
"Matter enough," said the young man. "I have lost a sandal here among
the rocks. And what sort of a figure shall I cut at the court of King
Pelias, with a golden-stringed sandal on one foot, and the other foot
bare!"
"Do not take it to heart," answered his companion, cheerily. "You never
met with better fortune than in losing that sandal. It satisfies me that
you are the very person whom the Speaking Oak has been talking about."
There was no time, just then, to inquire what the Speaking Oak had said.
But the briskness of her tone encouraged the young man; and besides, he
had never in his life felt so vigorous and mighty as since taking this
old woman on his back. Instead of being exhausted, he gathered strength
as he went on; and, struggling up against the torrent, he at last gained
the opposite shore, clambered up the bank, and set down the old dame and
her peacock safely on the grass. As soon as this was done, however, he
could not help looking rather despondently at his bare foot, with only a
remnant of the golden string of the sandal clinging round his ankle.
"You will get a handsomer pair of sandals by and by," said the old
woman, with a kindly look out of her beautiful brown eyes. "Only let
King Pelias get a glimpse of that bare foot, and you shall see him turn
as pale as ashes, I promise you. There is your path. Go along, my good
Jason, and my blessing go with you. And when you sit on your throne,
remember the old woman whom you helped over the river."
With these words, she hobbled away, giving him a smile over her shoulder
as she departed. Whether the light of her beautiful brown eyes threw a
glory round about her, or whatever the cause might be, Jason fancied
that there was something very noble and majestic in her figure, after
all, and that, though her gait seemed to be a rheumatic hobble, yet she
moved with as much grace and dignity as any queen on earth. Her peacock,
which had now fluttered down from her shoulder, strutted behind her in
prodigious pomp, and spread out its magnificent tail on purpose for
Jason to admire it.
When the old dame and her peacock were out of sight, Jason set forward
on his journey. After travelling a pretty long distance, he came to a
town situated at the foot of a mountain, and not a great way from the
shore of the sea. On the outside of the town there was an immense crowd
of people, not only men and women, but children, too, all in their best
clothes, and evidently enjoying a holiday. The crowd was thickest
towards the sea-shore; and in that direction, over the people's heads,
Jason saw a wreath of smoke curling upward to the blue sky. He inquired
of one of the multitude what town it was, near by, and why so many
persons were here assembled together.
"This is the kingdom of Iolchos," answered the man, "and we are the
subjects of King Pelias. Our monarch has summoned us together, that we
may see him sacrifice a black bull to Neptune, who, they say, is his
Majesty's father. Yonder is the king, where you see the smoke going up
from the altar."
While the man spoke he eyed Jason with great curiosity; for his garb was
quite unlike that of the Iolchians, and it looked very odd to see a
youth with a leopard's skin over his shoulders, and each hand grasping a
spear. Jason perceived, too, that the man stared particularly at his
feet, one of which, you remember, was bare, while the other was
decorated with his father's golden-stringed sandal.
"Look at him! only look at him!" said the man to his next neighbor. "Do
you see? He wears but one sandal!"
Upon this, first one person, and then another, began to stare at Jason,
and everybody seemed to be greatly struck with something in his aspect;
though they turned their eyes much oftener towards his feet than to any
other part of his figure. Besides, he could hear them whispering to one
another.
"One sandal! One sandal!" they kept saying. "The man with one sandal!
Here he is at last! Whence has he come? What does he mean to do? What
will the king say to the one-sandalled man?"
Poor Jason was greatly abashed, and made up his mind that the people of
Iolchos were exceedingly ill bred, to take such public notice of an
accidental deficiency in his dress. Meanwhile, whether it were that they
hustled him forward, or that Jason, of his own accord, thrust a passage
through the crowd, it so happened that he soon found himself close to
the smoking altar, where King Pelias was sacrificing the black bull. The
murmur and hum of the multitude, in their surprise at the spectacle of
Jason with his one bare foot, grew so loud that it disturbed the
ceremonies; and the king, holding the great knife with which he was just
going to cut the bull's throat, turned angrily about, and fixed his eyes
on Jason. The people had now withdrawn from around him, so that the
youth stood in an open space near the smoking altar, front to front with
the angry King Pelias.
"Who are you?" cried the king, with a terrible frown. "And how dare you
make this disturbance, while I am sacrificing a black bull to my father
Neptune?"
"It is no fault of mine," answered Jason. "Your Majesty must blame the
rudeness of your subjects, who have raised all this tumult because one
of my feet happens to be bare."
When Jason said this, the king gave a quick, startled glance down at his
feet.
"Ha!" muttered he, "here is the one-sandalled fellow, sure enough! What
can I do with him?"
And he clutched more closely the great knife in his hand, as if he were
half a mind to slay Jason instead of the black bull. The people round
about caught up the king's words indistinctly as they were uttered; and
first there was a murmur among them, and then a loud shout.
"The one-sandalled man has come! The prophecy must be fulfilled!"
For you are to know that, many years before, King Pelias had been told
by the Speaking Oak of Dodona, that a man with one sandal should cast
him down from his throne. On this account, he had given strict orders
that nobody should ever come into his presence, unless both sandals were
securely tied upon his feet; and he kept an officer in his palace, whose
sole business it was to examine people's sandals, and to supply them
with a new pair, at the expense of the royal treasury, as soon as the
old ones began to wear out. In the whole course of the king's reign, he
had never been thrown into such a fright and agitation as by the
spectacle of poor Jason's bare foot. But, as he was naturally a bold and
hard-hearted man, he soon took courage, and began to consider in what
way he might rid himself of this terrible one-sandalled stranger.
"My good young man," said King Pelias, taking the softest tone
imaginable, in order to throw Jason off his guard, "you are excessively
welcome to my kingdom. Judging by your dress, you must have travelled a
long distance; for it is not the fashion to wear leopard-skins in this
part of the world. Pray, what may I call your name? and where did you
receive your education?"
"My name is Jason," answered the young stranger. "Ever since my infancy,
I have dwelt in the cave of Chiron the Centaur. He was my instructor,
and taught me music, and horsemanship, and how to cure wounds, and
likewise how to inflict wounds with my weapons!"
"I have heard of Chiron the schoolmaster," replied King Pelias, "and how
that there is an immense deal of learning and wisdom in his head,
although it happens to be set on a horse's body. It gives me great
delight to see one of his scholars at my court. But, to test how much
you have profited under so excellent a teacher, will you allow me to ask
you a single question?"
"I do not pretend to be very wise," said Jason. "But ask me what you
please, and I will answer to the best of my ability."
Now King Pelias meant cunningly to entrap the young man, and to make him
say something that should be the cause of mischief and destruction to
himself. So with a crafty and evil smile upon his face, he spoke as
follows:--
"What would you do, brave Jason," asked he, "if there were a man in the
world, by whom, as you had reason to believe, you were doomed to be
ruined and slain,--what would you do, I say, if that man stood before
you, and in your power?"
When Jason saw the malice and wickedness which King Pelias could not
prevent from gleaming out of his eyes, he probably guessed that the king
had discovered what he came for, and that he intended to turn his own
words against himself. Still he scorned to tell a falsehood. Like an
upright and honorable prince, as he was, he determined to speak out the
real truth. Since the king had chosen to ask him the question, and since
Jason had promised him an answer, there was no right way, save to tell
him precisely what would be the most prudent thing to do, if he had his
worst enemy in his power.
Therefore, after a moment's consideration, he spoke up, with a firm and
manly voice.
"I would send such a man," said he, "in quest of the Golden Fleece!"
This enterprise, you will understand, was, of all others, the most
difficult and dangerous in the world. In the first place, it would be
necessary to make a long voyage through unknown seas. There was hardly a
hope, or a possibility, that any young man who should undertake this
voyage would either succeed in obtaining the Golden Fleece, or would
survive to return home, and tell of the perils he had run. The eyes of
King Pelias sparkled with joy, therefore, when he heard Jason's reply.
"Well said, wise man with the one sandal!" cried he. "Go, then, and, at
the peril of your life, bring me back the Golden Fleece."
"I go," answered Jason, composedly. "If I fail, you need not fear that I
will ever come back to trouble you again. But if I return to Iolchos
with the prize, then, King Pelias, you must hasten down from your lofty
throne, and give me your crown and sceptre."
"That I will," said the king, with a sneer. "Meantime, I will keep them
very safely for you."
The first thing that Jason thought of doing, after he left the king's
presence, was to go to Dodona, and inquire of the Talking Oak what
course it was best to pursue. This wonderful tree stood in the centre of
an ancient wood. Its stately trunk rose up a hundred feet into the air,
and threw a broad and dense shadow over more than an acre of ground.
Standing beneath it, Jason looked up among the knotted branches and
green leaves, and into the mysterious heart of the old tree, and spoke
aloud, as if he were addressing some person who was hidden in the depths
of the foliage.
"What shall I do," said he, "in order to win the Golden Fleece?"
At first there was a deep silence, not only within the shadow of the
Talking Oak, but all through the solitary wood. In a moment or two,
however, the leaves of the oak began to stir and rustle, as if a gentle
breeze were wandering amongst them, although the other trees of the wood
were perfectly still. The sound grew louder, and became like the roar of
a high wind. By and by, Jason imagined that he could distinguish words,
but very confusedly, because each separate leaf of the tree seemed to be
a tongue, and the whole myriad of tongues were babbling at once. But the
noise waxed broader and deeper, until it resembled a tornado sweeping
through the oak, and making one great utterance out of the thousand and
thousand of little murmurs which each leafy tongue had caused by its
rustling. And now, though it still had the tone of mighty wind roaring
among the branches, it was also like a deep bass voice, speaking, as
distinctly as a tree could be expected to speak, the following words:--
"Go to Argus, the ship-builder, and bid him build a galley with fifty
oars."
Then the voice melted again into the indistinct murmur of the rustling
leaves, and died gradually away. When it was quite gone, Jason felt
inclined to doubt whether he had actually heard the words, or whether
his fancy had not shaped them out of the ordinary sound made by a
breeze, while passing through the thick foliage of the tree.
But on inquiry among the people of Iolchos, he found that there was
really a man in the city, by the name of Argus, who was a very skilful
builder of vessels. This showed some intelligence in the oak; else how
should it have known that any such person existed? At Jason's request,
Argus readily consented to build him a galley so big that it should
require fifty strong men to row it; although no vessel of such a size
and burden had heretofore been seen in the world. So the head carpenter,
and all his journeymen and apprentices, began their work; and for a good
while afterwards, there they were, busily employed, hewing out the
timbers, and making a great clatter with their hammers; until the new
ship, which was called the Argo, seemed to be quite ready for sea. And,
as the Talking Oak had already given him such good advice, Jason thought
that it would not be amiss to ask for a little more. He visited it
again, therefore, and standing beside its huge, rough trunk, inquired
what he should do next.
This time, there was no such universal quivering of the leaves,
throughout the whole tree, as there had been before. But after a while,
Jason observed that the foliage of a great branch which stretched above
his head had begun to rustle, as if the wind were stirring that one
bough, while all the other boughs of the oak were at rest.
"Cut me off!" said the branch, as soon as it could speak
distinctly,--"cut me off! cut me off! and carve me into a figure-head
for your galley."
Accordingly, Jason took the branch at its word, and lopped it off the
tree. A carver in the neighborhood engaged to make the figure-head. He
was a tolerably good workman, and had already carved several
figure-heads, in what he intended for feminine shapes, and looking
pretty much like those which we see nowadays stuck up under a vessel's
bowsprit, with great staring eyes, that never wink at the dash of the
spray. But (what was very strange) the carver found that his hand was
guided by some unseen power, and by a skill beyond his own, and that his
tools shaped out an image which he had never dreamed of. When the work
was finished, it turned out to be the figure of a beautiful woman with a
helmet on her head, from beneath which the long ringlets fell down upon
her shoulders. On the left arm was a shield, and in its centre appeared
a lifelike representation of the head of Medusa with the snaky locks.
The right arm was extended, as if pointing onward. The face of this
wonderful statue, though not angry or forbidding, was so grave and
majestic, that perhaps you might call it severe; and as for the mouth,
it seemed just ready to unclose its lips, and utter words of the deepest
wisdom.
Jason was delighted with the oaken image, and gave the carver no rest
until it was completed, and set up where a figure-head has always stood,
from that time to this, in the vessel's prow.
"And now," cried he, as he stood gazing at the calm, majestic face of
the statue, "I must go to the Talking Oak, and inquire what next to do."
"There is no need of that, Jason," said a voice which, though it was far
lower, reminded him of the mighty tones of the great oak. "When you
desire good advice, you can seek it of me."
Jason had been looking straight into the face of the image when these
words were spoken. But he could hardly believe either his ears or his
eyes. The truth was, however, that the oaken lips had moved, and, to all
appearance, the voice had proceeded from the statue's mouth. Recovering
a little from his surprise, Jason bethought himself that the image had
been carved out of the wood of the Talking Oak, and that, therefore, it
was really no great wonder, but on the contrary, the most natural thing
in the world, that it should possess the faculty of speech. It would
have been very odd, indeed, if it had not. But certainly it was a great
piece of good fortune that he should be able to carry so wise a block of
wood along with him in his perilous voyage.
"Tell me, wondrous image," exclaimed Jason,--"since you inherit the
wisdom of the Speaking Oak of Dodona, whose daughter you are,--tell me,
where shall I find fifty bold youths, who will take each of them an oar
of my galley? They must have sturdy arms to row, and brave hearts to
encounter perils, or we shall never win the Golden Fleece."
"Go," replied the oaken image,--"go, summon all the heroes of Greece."
And, in fact, considering what a great deed was to be done, could any
advice be wiser than this which Jason received from the figure-head of
his vessel? He lost no time in sending messengers to all the cities, and
making known to the whole people of Greece, that Prince Jason, the son
of King AEson, was going in quest of the Fleece of Gold, and that he
desired the help of forty-nine of the bravest and strongest young men
alive, to row his vessel and share his dangers. And Jason himself would
be the fiftieth.
At this news, the adventurous youths, all over the country, began to
bestir themselves. Some of them had already fought with giants, and
slain dragons; and the younger ones, who had not yet met with such good
fortune, thought it a shame to have lived so long without getting
astride of a flying serpent, or sticking their spears into a Chimaera,
or, at least, thrusting their right arms down a monstrous lion's throat.
There was a fair prospect that they would meet with plenty of such
adventures before finding the Golden Fleece. As soon as they could
furbish up their helmets and shields, therefore, and gird on their
trusty swords, they came thronging to Iolchos, and clambered on board
the new galley. Shaking hands with Jason, they assured him that they did
not care a pin for their lives, but would help row the vessel to the
remotest edge of the world, and as much farther as he might think it
best to go.
Many of these brave fellows had been educated by Chiron, the four-footed
pedagogue, and were therefore old schoolmates of Jason, and knew him to
be a lad of spirit. The mighty Hercules, whose shoulders afterwards held
up the sky, was one of them. And there were Castor and Pollux, the twin
brothers, who were never accused of being chicken-hearted, although they
had been hatched out of an egg; and Theseus, who was so renowned for
killing the Minotaur; and Lynceus, with his wonderfully sharp eyes,
which could see through a millstone, or look right down into the depths
of the earth, and discover the treasures that were there; and Orpheus,
the very best of harpers, who sang and played upon his lyre so sweetly,
that the brute beasts stood upon their hind legs, and capered merrily to
the music. Yes, and at some of his more moving tunes, the rocks
bestirred their moss-grown bulk out of the ground, and a grove of
forest trees uprooted themselves, and, nodding their tops to one
another, performed a country dance.
One of the rowers was a beautiful young woman, named Atalanta, who had
been nursed among the mountains by a bear. So light of foot was this
fair damsel that she could step from one foamy crest of a wave to the
foamy crest of another, without wetting more than the sole of her
sandal. She had grown up in a very wild way, and talked much about the
rights of women, and loved hunting and war far better than her needle.
But, in my opinion, the most remarkable of this famous company were two
sons of the North Wind (airy youngsters, and of rather a blustering
disposition), who had wings on their shoulders, and, in case of a calm,
could puff out their cheeks, and blow almost as fresh a breeze as their
father. I ought not to forget the prophets and conjurers, of whom there
were several in the crew, and who could foretell what would happen
to-morrow, or the next day, or a hundred years hence, but were generally
quite unconscious of what was passing at the moment.
Jason appointed Tiphys to be helmsman, because he was a star-gazer, and
knew the points of the compass. Lynceus, on account of his sharp sight,
was stationed as a lookout in the prow, where he saw a whole day's sail
ahead, but was rather apt to overlook things that lay directly under his
nose. If the sea only happened to be deep enough, however, Lynceus could
tell you exactly what kind of rocks or sands were at the bottom of it;
and he often cried out to his companions, that they were sailing over
heaps of sunken treasure, which yet he was none the richer for
beholding. To confess the truth, few people believed him when he said
it.
Well! But when the Argonauts, as these fifty brave adventurers were
called, had prepared everything for the voyage, an unforeseen difficulty
threatened to end it before it was begun. The vessel, you must
understand, was so long, and broad, and ponderous, that the united force
of all the fifty was insufficient to shove her into the water. Hercules,
I suppose, had not grown to his full strength, else he might have set
her afloat as easily as a little boy launches his boat upon a puddle.
But here were these fifty heroes pushing, and straining, and growing red
in the face, without making the Argo start an inch. At last, quite
wearied out, they sat themselves down on the shore, exceedingly
disconsolate, and thinking that the vessel must be left to rot and fall
in pieces, and that they must either swim across the sea or lose the
Golden Fleece.
All at once, Jason bethought himself of the galley's miraculous
figure-head.
"O daughter of the Talking Oak," cried he, "how shall we set to work to
get our vessel into the water?"
"Seat yourselves," answered the image (for it had known what ought to be
done from the very first, and was only waiting for the question to be
put),--"seat yourselves, and handle your oars, and let Orpheus play upon
his harp."
Immediately the fifty heroes got on board, and seizing their oars, held
them perpendicularly in the air, while Orpheus (who liked such a task
far better than rowing) swept his fingers across the harp. At the first
ringing note of the music, they felt the vessel stir. Orpheus thrummed
away briskly, and the galley slid at once into the sea, dipping her prow
so deeply that the figure-head drank the wave with its marvellous lips,
and rose again as buoyant as a swan. The rowers plied their fifty oars;
the white foam boiled up before the prow; the water gurgled and bubbled
in their wake; while Orpheus continued to play so lively a strain of
music, that the vessel seemed to dance over the billows by way of
keeping time to it. Thus triumphantly did the Argo sail out of the
harbor, amidst the huzzas and good wishes of everybody except the wicked
old Pelias, who stood on a promontory, scowling at her, and wishing that
he could blow out of his lungs the tempest of wrath that was in his
heart, and so sink the galley with all on board. When they had sailed
above fifty miles over the sea, Lynceus happened to cast his sharp eyes
behind, and said that there was this bad-hearted king, still perched
upon the promontory, and scowling so gloomily that it looked like a
black thunder-cloud in that quarter of the horizon.