With a brave heart Theseus walked on, keeping the sea always upon his
right. Soon the old city of Troezen was left far behind, and he came to
the great marshes, where the ground sank under him at every step, and
green pools of stagnant water lay on both sides of the narrow pathway.
But no fiery dragon came out of the reeds to meet him; and so he walked
on and on till he came to the rugged mountain land which bordered the
western shore of the sea. Then he climbed one slope after another, until
at last he stood on the summit of a gray peak from which he could see
the whole country spread out around him. Then downward and onward he
went again, but his way led him through dark mountain glens, and along
the edges of mighty precipices, and underneath many a frowning cliff,
until he came to a dreary wood where the trees grew tall and close
together and the light of the sun was seldom seen.
In that forest there dwelt a robber giant, called Club-carrier, who was
the terror of all the country. For oftentimes he would go down into the
valleys where the shepherds fed their flocks, and would carry off not
only sheep and lambs, but sometimes children and the men themselves. It
was his custom to hide in the thickets of underbrush, close to a
pathway, and, when a traveler passed that way, leap out upon him and
beat him to death. When he saw Theseus coming through the woods, he
thought that he would have a rich prize, for he knew from the youth's
dress and manner that he must be a prince. He lay on the ground, where
leaves of ivy and tall grass screened him from view, and held his great
iron club ready to strike.
But Theseus had sharp eyes and quick ears, and neither beast nor robber
giant could have taken him by surprise. When Club-carrier leaped out of
his hiding place to strike him down, the young man dodged aside so
quickly that the heavy club struck the ground behind him; and then,
before the robber giant could raise it for a second stroke, Theseus
seized the fellow's legs and tripped him up.
Club-carrier roared loudly, and tried to strike again; but Theseus
wrenched the club out of his hands, and then dealt him such a blow on
the head that he never again harmed travelers passing through the
forest. Then the youth went on his way, carrying the huge club on his
shoulder, and singing a song of victory, and looking sharply around him
for any other foes that might be lurking among the trees.
Just over the ridge of the next mountain he met an old man who warned
him not to go any farther. He said that close by a grove of pine trees,
which he would soon pass on his way down the slope, there dwelt a robber
named Sinis, who was very cruel to strangers.
"He is called Pine-bender," said the old man; "for when he has caught a
traveler, he bends two tall, lithe pine trees to the ground and binds
his captive to them--a hand and a foot to the top of one, and a hand and
a foot to the top of the other. Then he lets the trees fly up, and he
roars with laughter when he sees the traveler's body torn in sunder."
"It seems to me," said Theseus, "that it is full time to rid the world
of such a monster;" and he thanked the kind man who had warned him, and
hastened onward, whistling merrily as he went down towards the grove of
pines.
Soon he came in sight of the robber's house, built near the foot of a
jutting cliff. Behind it was a rocky gorge and a roaring mountain
stream; and in front of it was a garden wherein grew all kinds of rare
plants and beautiful flowers. But the tops of the pine trees below it
were laden with the bones of unlucky travelers, which hung bleaching
white in the sun and wind.
On a stone by the roadside sat Sinis himself; and when he saw Theseus
coming, he ran to meet him, twirling a long rope in his hands and crying
out:
"Welcome, welcome, dear prince! Welcome to our inn--the true Traveler's
Rest!"
"What kind of entertainment have you?" asked Theseus. "Have you a pine
tree bent down to the ground and ready for me?"
"Ay; two of them!" said the robber. "I knew that you were coming, and I
bent two of them for you."
As he spoke he threw his rope towards Theseus and tried to entangle him
in its coils. But the young man leaped aside, and when the robber rushed
upon him, he dodged beneath his hands and seized his legs, as he had
seized Club-carrier's, and threw him heavily to the ground. Then the two
wrestled together among the trees, but not long, for Sinis was no match
for his lithe young foe; and Theseus knelt upon the robber's back as he
lay prone among the leaves, and tied him with his own cord to the two
pine trees which were already bent down. "As you would have done unto
me, so will I do unto you," he said.
Then Pine-bender wept and prayed and made many a fair promise; but
Theseus would not hear him. He turned away, the trees sprang up, and the
robber's body was left dangling from their branches.
Now this old Pine-bender had a daughter named Perigune, who was no more
like him than a fair and tender violet is like the gnarled old oak at
whose feet it nestles; and it was she who cared for the flowers and the
rare plants which grew in the garden by the robber's house. When she saw
how Theseus had dealt with her father, she was afraid and ran to hide
herself from him.
"Oh, save me, dear plants!" she cried, for she often talked to the
flowers as though they could understand her. "Dear plants, save me; and
I will never pluck your leaves nor harm you in any way so long as I
live."
There was one of the plants which up to that time had had no leaves, but
came up out of the ground looking like a mere club or stick. This plant
took pity on the maiden. It began at once to send out long feathery
branches with delicate green leaves, which grew so fast that Perigune
was soon hidden from sight beneath them. Theseus knew that she must be
somewhere in the garden, but he could not find her, so well did the
feathery branches conceal her. So he called to her:
"Perigune," he said, "you need not fear me; for I know that you are
gentle and good, and it is only against things dark and cruel that I
lift up my hand."
The maiden peeped from her hiding-place, and when she saw the fair face
of the youth and heard his kind voice, she came out, trembling, and
talked with him. And Theseus rested that evening in her house, and she
picked some of her choicest flowers for him and gave him food. But when
in the morning the dawn began to appear in the east, and the stars grew
dim above the mountain peaks, he bade her farewell and journeyed onward
over the hills. And Perigune tended her plants and watched her flowers
in the lone garden in the midst of the piny grove; but she never plucked
the stalks of asparagus nor used them for food, and when she afterwards
became the wife of a hero and had children and grandchildren and
great-grandchildren, she taught them all to spare the plant which had
taken pity upon her in her need.
The road which Theseus followed now led him closer to the shore, and by
and by he came to a place where the mountains seemed to rise sheer out
of the sea, and there was only a, narrow path high up along the side of
the cliff. Far down beneath his feet he could hear the waves dashing
evermore against the rocky wall, while above him the mountain eagles
circled and screamed, and gray crags and barren peaks glistened in the
sunlight.
But Theseus went on fearlessly and came at last to a place where a
spring of clear water bubbled out from a cleft in the rock; and there
the path was narrower still, and the low doorway of a cavern opened out
upon it. Close by the spring sat a red-faced giant, with a huge club
across his knees, guarding the road so that no one could pass; and in
the sea at the foot of the cliff basked a huge turtle, its leaden eyes
looking always upward for its food. Theseus knew--for Perigune had told
him--that this was the dwelling-place of a robber named Sciron, who was
the terror of all the coast, and whose custom it was to make strangers
wash his feet, so that while they were doing so, he might kick them over
the cliff to be eaten, by his pet turtle below.
When Theseus came up, the robber raised his club, and said fiercely: "No
man can pass here until he has washed my feet! Come, set to work!"
Then Theseus smiled, and said: "Is your turtle hungry to-day? and do you
want me to feed him?" The robber's eyes flashed fire, and he said, "You
shall feed him, but you shall wash my feet first;" and with that he
brandished his club in the air and rushed forward to strike.
But Theseus was ready for him. With the iron club which he had taken
from Club-carrier in the forest he met the blow midway, and the robber's
weapon was knocked out of his hands and sent spinning away over the edge
of the cliff. Then Sciron, black with rage, tried to grapple with him;
but Theseus was too quick for that. He dropped his club and seized
Sciron by the throat; he pushed him back against the ledge on which he
had been sitting; he threw him sprawling upon the sharp rocks, and held
him there, hanging half way over the cliff.
"Enough! enough!" cried the robber. "Let me up, and you may pass on your
way."
"It is not enough," said Theseus; and he drew his sword and sat down by
the side of the spring. "You must wash my feet now. Come, set to work!"
Then Sciron, white with fear, washed his feet.
"And now," said Theseus, when the task was ended, "as you have done unto
others, so will I do unto you."
There was a scream in mid air which the mountain eagles answered from
above; there was a great splashing in the water below, and the turtle
fled in terror from its lurking place. Then the sea cried out: "I will
have naught to do with so vile a wretch!" and a great wave cast the body
of Sciron out upon the shore. But it had no sooner touched the ground
than the land cried out: "I will have naught to do with so vile a
wretch!" and there was a sudden earthquake, and the body of Sciron was
thrown back into the sea. Then the sea waxed furious, a raging storm
arose, the waters were lashed into foam, and the waves with one mighty
effort threw the detested body high into the air; and there it would
have hung unto this day had not the air itself disdained to give it
lodging and changed it into a huge black rock. And this rock, which men
say is the body of Sciron, may still be seen, grim, ugly, and desolate;
and one third of it lies in the sea, one third is embedded in the sandy
shore, and one third is exposed to the air.