A ROYAL COUNCIL AND A ROYAL HUNT
It was the day after the funeral of Cyrus. Cambyses, the Great King,
was in a black humor. The fatigue incident to the funeral services
and the reaction from intoxication caused by too much drink, indulged
in afterward, had darkened his vision and sharpened his acerbity.
When he awoke and sat up on his silk-covered couch, he felt the need
of immediate refreshment. He jerked a cord hanging conveniently at
hand, and a bell jangled in an adjoining hall. Instantly two servants
appeared, slipping in between the heavy folds of a curtain at the
doorway, and prostrated themselves before him.
“Rise up, dogs! Bring me soma!” he roared.
Swiftly and noiselessly as fleeting shadows they arose and disappeared.
In a moment the King’s cup-bearer appeared with a golden goblet in
hand, followed by the servants bearing a vessel of milky, fiery liquid.
The cup-bearer bowed low, the servants set down the jar and were about
to prostrate themselves again, when Cambyses cried impatiently, “Omit
salutations and pour!”
The potent fluid sparkled as it flowed into the goblet from the vessel.
Twice was the goblet filled and twice did he drain it. “Begone!” he
then commanded. “Send the bath hither!”
Cup-bearer and servants withdrew, walking backward. A moment later
the servants came in again, bearing a large tub of water. With their
assistance the King proceeded to bathe. Unfortunately for one, he
dropped a towel and received a buffet from the King’s fist that caused
him to reel.
“Have care!” roared Cambyses. “To the guard-house you go to-day and
thence to the kitchen as scullion!”
The man prostrated himself and prayed for pardon. Royalty made no sign
and he withdrew. Another came to take his place. After the bath, the
King’s hair was combed, curled, and perfumed. The royal barber trimmed
his whiskers deftly and carefully waxed them. Then he was arrayed in
fine linen and purple. His breakfast was brought into the room, and he
sat down to eat. He then sent a page to summon Prexaspes. The latter,
elegantly dressed and well groomed as usual, soon appeared and, bending
till his hands touched the floor, saluted.
“May the King live forever!”
In obedience to a wave of the King’s hand, the servants disappeared.
“See that none stand near the door! Let the guard move away to the
outer room!” commanded the King.
Prexaspes saw that the orders were obeyed. Then, resuming his
deferential attitude before his royal master, with bowed head, eyes to
the floor, and hands crossed before him, he awaited the royal pleasure.
The King, having eaten in silence some minutes, pushed away the
remainder of the food.
“Prexaspes,” he said truculently, “I know you! I know you are faithful
to me because you hope to win power and not because you love me. So be
it! Royal place you cannot have owing to the accident of birth, but
royal power you may win if you will. Are you ready to carry out all my
wishes or must I seek another?”
He paused. Prexaspes raised his eyes and noted his master’s expression.
“Royal master,” he said quietly, “you read men with the eye of God! It
is true I love power and riches and I know that both may be given me by
you and none other. I am your slave to command.”
“Well said! I, who am descended from Jemshid and Kaiomurs, from
Achæmenius and Cyrus, am able to make you great. Just as there may
be one God in heaven, so I am the one God on earth. There is but one
family fitted to rule the earth and that is mine. Is it not so?”
“It is so.”
“Since it is so, is not the will of the Great King of the Persians and
Medes and of the whole world above the laws of this empire?”
“The King’s word is law.”
“If, then, the Great King command you to do an act, that act, even if
it be the taking of life contrary to Persian law, becomes lawful. Is it
not so?”
For an instant Prexaspes clasped his fingers together nervously.
“It might be lawful, O King,” he answered slowly. “But though your
power is great, there are in this land of Persia great nobles who claim
great rights and powers, and who would maintain that Persian law must
not be broken even by the Great King. I know the great wisdom and the
courage of the King; but if I may be permitted to speak, I would give
the advice of one who has studied these matters deeply.”
“I know!” exclaimed the King, impatiently. “I saw the dour faces of
the nobles and the hostility of the people. My father unreasonably
inflicted punishments upon me and my friends, and knowledge thereof has
soured the minds of all toward me. That cursed Bardya, who supplanted
me in my father’s love, yet lives! I would sooner trust Darius
Hystaspis than those nobles; and he loves me not!”
“It is true the Prince of Iran loves you not. But he is loyal. My only
fear is that if Bardya should--should be slain by your order, the
nobles would attack even you, and by their vast power among the Persian
people they might overthrow you and place the King of Iran on the
throne.”
The King arose from the table and paced back and forth, grinding his
teeth in wrath. He realized the truth of Prexaspes’ words.
“There can be but one King on earth!” he exclaimed. “That King must be
Cambyses. Bardya must die! As for Darius Hystaspis, I would order him
to death, did I not believe his father would head a revolt in Iran such
as I care not to meet. But I hate him! What then do you advise?”
“As to Bardya, I advise that he be put away secretly, if he must die.
Let it be reported that he has returned to Bactra or that the King has
given him a secluded residence in Medea, where he chose to retire for
meditation. A stout person might--”
“No!” roared the King. “I have said he shall die! But let it be
secretly done. Do it yourself and I will make you chief counselor of
state forever, second only to myself!”
Prexaspes drew in his breath sharply.
“The King hath spoken!” he answered slowly. “I myself will slay the
young man. Let the King’s word stand and not be withdrawn.”
“It shall stand!” the King assured him, taking a seal ring from his
finger. “Take this in token of the King’s word.”
Prexaspes bowed low and took the glittering band.
“Now as to this Prince of Iran and his seditious Guard, what of them?”
demanded the King.
Prexaspes hesitated a moment before he answered. “The Prince may be
dealt with in two ways. Possibly the King may not have heard that
he has dared to raise his eyes to Athura, the King’s most beautiful
sister; and it is reported that she regards him with great favor. And
your father promised her to him. Now it might be that if she be given
him in marriage at once, it would bind him more firmly to support your
rule, and--”
“Never!” cried the King, smiting his hands together. “Let them marry?
Why, that would indeed be showing him favor! That would be placing him
on the throne! For I have no children; and if Bardya die, who remains?
Athura would be queen, and he would be King. Never! I hate him as
bitterly as I do Bardya. I hate Athura, the haughty favorite of my
father, ever preaching good deeds and well-doing to me!”
“Then I advise that he be given a command in a distant province. It
is rumored that the Lydians are restless and that the tribes on the
northern borders thereof are making forays. Send him and the old Guard
thither. Mayhap a dart shall find him. At least he will be far from
these Persians. His oath will keep him faithful. Let a decree be made
praising him for faithful service and elevating him to the honor of a
satrapy where war will keep him busy.”
The King laughed, a cruel, mirthless laugh, as he assented. “The advice
is good! So be it. Bardya shall disappear to meditate--beyond the
stars! Darius and Athura shall love each other, verily, but separated
by two hundred parasangs! See to it! Prepare proper decrees. And
Prexaspes--it is in my mind to occupy these warlike peoples in a war
of conquest, even as did my father. We will prove that we too know
how to conquer! There is Egypt still independent and very rich and
powerful. We must have tribute to live in state as becomes the ruler
of the world. Amasis claims to be equal to Cambyses--he shall bite the
dust! After him, the Hellenes shall feel my power beyond the sea. Go,
Prexaspes! It shall be yours to estimate the necessary revenues and to
prepare the means to feed an army of five hundred thousand men who will
march with me to Egypt. But, first, see to it that no brother remains
behind to rouse up rebellion!”
“It shall be as you order. The King is very wise. War with Egypt will
occupy the minds of the Persian nobles and will enable us to levy taxes
on all the nations for the King’s treasury.”
“Be not in too great haste with this war,” continued Cambyses. “There
is much to do; and life is very enjoyable in fall at Susa, in winter at
Babylon, and in spring at Hamadan.”
Prexaspes bowed low and withdrew.
Later that day, the King sat in state on the throne in the great
central hall of the palace and received the nobles of Persia and
Medea and the officers of his court. Prexaspes stood at his right
hand. Embassies from distant realms, visitors from foreign lands, and
deputations from divers cities came to wait upon the Great King before
returning to their various places. All petitioners, in accordance
with the new etiquette, prostrated themselves before the King and so
remained until bidden to arise. But the nobles of Iran, though they
bowed low before him with hands on their breasts, did not bend the knee
or prostrate themselves. The King greeted them coldly, resolving within
himself that he would some day humble them till they also should
prostrate themselves at his feet and feel his foot on their necks.
The Prince of Iran, tall, stately, richly but plainly appareled,
came also. He was cordial in his greeting of the King, as became a
blood-relative, but beneath the folds of his Medean cloak a light chain
armor guarded his body from dagger-thrusts, even as his cordial manner
concealed the distrust he felt towards Cambyses. To him Prexaspes made
low obeisance. The nobles of Persia also bowed low before him with
profound respect. The King became very gracious and smiled upon him as
he approached. He arose from his throne and gave the Prince his royal
hand.
“Cousin Darius,” he said, “it pleases me very greatly to have you here!
I have disturbing news from the satrapy of our old friend Crœsus.
It is said that discontent and revolt arise there and that bands of
Scythians trouble its northern borders. I have been considering deeply
what reward would be sufficient for one who brought the body of the
Great King, my father, to its tomb. I have determined to appoint you
satrap of all our empire beyond the Euphrates. In order that you may
be well supported, I have prepared a decree that you may take with you
the old Imperial Guard of my father to become the nucleus of the army
which shall, under your command, uphold our empire there. I contemplate
no less a conquest than that of Egypt at some convenient time; and it
shall be your duty to levy additional soldiers among the people of your
provinces for that war. When I march by Damascus and Tyre, you shall
join me there with a well-disciplined army and you shall have chief
command under me.”
The Prince listened in amazement. Except Babylon, the western provinces
were the richest and most important of the conquered provinces in
the empire. Knowing the King’s ancient hatred towards him, he was at
a loss to understand why this great honor was given him. From the
keen, beadlike stare of the King’s dark eyes he turned inquiringly to
Prexaspes, who averted his face. He was silent a moment, seeking to
penetrate the King’s design. It must be that, as King, Cambyses was not
following the footsteps of Cambyses, the Prince.
“The Great King’s commands will be obeyed,” he answered presently. “I
thank you for the honor so little deserved. But I had somewhat in my
heart to ask the King, should I be permitted to speak.”
“Say on!” said the King, the expression of his face denoting
apprehension.
“When your sire, the ever victorious Cyrus, was about to die, he gave
me his consent and promise that I should marry the Princess Athura if
she were willing. This was a special mark of his favor. I now ask of
you, Great King, that which he promised and which you, as the head
of your father’s family, may grant--the hand of the King’s sister in
marriage.”
Cambyses was astonished at the boldness of the Prince. His face
instantly flushed with wrath. He was about to exclaim violently,
when he observed the gaze of Prexaspes turned upon him warningly and
remembered that it was his part to dissemble. He resumed his seat on
the throne. Constraining his anger, he said, speaking rapidly and in
some confusion:
“This is a matter to which thought must be given. The time is not
right. The matters demanding attention in your satrapy are urgent.
I wish you to make ready and depart within ten days. I must have a
Prince of the Empire in that part of my dominions. Your subjects are a
warlike people who need a firm hand. As to my sister, I will talk with
her. It would not be meet that the marriage take place before you go or
until the days of mourning for her father elapse. The urgency of the
case will not admit at this time of any delay, lest those Lydians and
Scythians rise in open rebellion. I see no obstacle in the way of such
marriage; but later I will consider it. Some months’ active campaigning
may be your lot when no thoughts could be given to marriage. Prepare to
march without delay and to put down the King’s enemies with a strong
hand. If the hand of my sister in marriage be a prize to be sought
after by you, faithful service to my interests may be thus rewarded.
Here is my decree appointing you to your office. Rest assured that if
my sister wills to be your wife, she shall be given by me to no other
man.”
Prexaspes drew from his belt a roll of papyrus and presented it to
the King, who handed it to the Prince. The latter took it, bowed low,
and, turning on his heel, departed without further word. After he had
disappeared the King turned to Prexaspes.
“What think you?” he asked. “Does it please him? And what will he do?”
“It pleases him not, but he will obey.”
The Prince of Iran passed out of the King’s presence deeply troubled.
Was the King seeking to honor him and beginning to reign in a truly
kinglike manner? Or was he seeking to be rid of him and his favorite
troops? Mounting a horse at the gate of the palace park, where his
faithful groom, Orobates, awaited him, he rode directly to the old
palace where Bardya and his sisters were residing. There he dismounted
and was quickly ushered into the presence of Princess Athura. He found
her sitting upon a divan in the inner court, playing on a harp and
softly singing to its accompaniment. Several young women companions had
left the room when the servants announced the coming of the Prince.
“Greeting and welcome!” she said smilingly, as the young man bowed low
before her. She put aside the harp and arose. “Be seated, illustrious
Prince, at my right hand!” He kissed the hands extended to him, and
both sat down on the divan.
At once noting the serious expression of his countenance, the Princess
asked, “What so serious as to cause frowns and wrinkles?”
“I have stood before the King as I said I would and asked that he
consent to our marriage,” he answered. “Instead of consenting, he does
me the honor to appoint me governor of Lydia and command me to depart
forthwith, saying there is urgent need and that I must take with me the
Guard.”
“What? Another war? And must you go?”
“It is the King’s command! It is not an honor that he is giving me. It
is his desire to place me among those who know me not! Foolish King! He
will find none less likely to rebel than I. It is not in his mind to
consent to our marriage. He made no promise. He said he would think of
it and speak with you.”
“But he shall consent!” exclaimed Athura, warmly. “If not, then will I
go with you and marry you without his consent. He shall never control
me or send me where I do not choose to go!”
“My soul rejoices to hear you say this!” said the Prince, drawing
her close to him with encircling arm. “But we must have patience. He
is King. He is the head of your family. Should we marry without his
consent, he might deem it such insult to his majesty as to lead him to
immediate violence. I fear that I may some day be compelled to forget
my sacred oath to his father. Let us exercise patience, light of mine
eyes, hope of my soul!”
Her regal head rested on his strong shoulder. She touched lightly with
her fingers the dark locks of hair that graced his brow. Presently, as
she remained silent, he continued:
“He may consent that you come to me. What happiness would be mine! But
you--it would mean a foreign land, and possibly dwelling in the midst
of war.”
“Am I not my father’s daughter? Am I afraid of war? It would be joy to
go with you, to see new lands, new peoples, to be a queen where you
would be virtually king, to ride a horse in battle! I will wait for you
to come or to send for me. No other man, be he King or noble, shall I
ever marry. If not you, none other!”
“Nor shall I have any other queen than you, beloved of my soul! Let
us not despair. I will speak to the Persian nobles if he does not
presently consent. Their influence and my father’s may force his
consent. If danger threaten you, fly to my mother. She will protect you
even against Cambyses.”
Further converse was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching
from the outer hallway and the immediate appearance of Prince Bardya
at the door. He had evidently just come from a ride, as his clothes
and whip indicated. His handsome, flushed countenance indicated rapid
riding through the wind. He smiled, as his sister and the Prince arose
in embarrassed silence.
“Pardon my intrusion, beloved sister and brother!” he begged. “I have
had a wonderful gallop over the hills towards Lake Baktigan, and some
rough climbing. Have you seen the other King this day?”
The Prince of Iran briefly related his visit to the King and its
result. Bardya nervously slapped the riding whip against his boots and
a frown gathered on his brow as he listened.
“His object is plain!” he exclaimed, as the Prince ceased speaking.
“He sends you to a distant place that you may not be near me, a very
shrewd trick! He will never allow you to marry Athura because he hates
you both. But let us defy him! My sister shall go with me. Then you may
come, Prince, and marry her! We shall defy him. We shall acknowledge
him as overlord, according to my father’s will; but not a foot shall he
set on our lands--neither he nor any servants of his!”
The Prince of Iran was disturbed at Bardya’s words. It was evident that
the latter intended to declare his independence as soon as possible and
that war would ensue. What would be his own duty then? His oath would
align him with Cambyses; his heart would drive him to Bardya.
“Great Prince,” he answered, “I know you love me as a friend and so
I make bold to speak a warning. Do not utter such thoughts aloud any
more. Ears may hear and tongues may carry to the King’s ears. Then
he would surely have you arrested and slain. I counsel prudence and
extreme watchfulness. Return as soon as possible to Bactra. I long to
go with you. But I must obey his decree or be placed in the position
of rebelling. I go as ordered. After the war is finished (if I find it
necessary to make war), I will demand Athura. If he refuse consent, I
will leave his service and enter yours, but never as against him. But I
do not think he will dare deny my suit. Am I not an Achæmenian, and is
there any of higher birth?”
“I will heed your advice,” replied Bardya. “You were ever wise and
far-seeing. I will be silent and watchful. The guards you gave me ride
with me always. One sleeps at my bedroom door, and the others guard
the palace doors and grounds. But if you march hence in ten days, it
behooves me to seek others.”
“I will furnish them from the faithful retainers on my father’s estate.
But I advise immediate return to Bactra, even if it must be by flight
in the night. I am greatly troubled for your safety.”
Bardya laughed. “You are needlessly alarmed,” he asserted. “But on the
morrow I will announce to the King my purpose of returning forthwith.”
At this moment there came a knock at the door and a servant appeared.
“A messenger stands at the door,” he announced.
“Admit him!” commanded Bardya.
A man in the King’s livery entered, and bowing almost to the floor
before royalty, presented a folded bit of papyrus to Bardya. The latter
took it, unfolded it, and read. He then ordered the messenger to
retire, and after he had disappeared he read aloud:
“‘Cambyses, the King of Kings, King of the World, to his Brother,
Bardya, and to his Sisters, Athura and Artistone, greeting:
“‘Know that I propose to remain here two weeks longer and will then
return to Hamadan. It is my will that you make ready to accompany me
to that city in order that my court may be graced by your presence
and that the people may know that we are of good-will towards you.
Later my brother may depart thence to his provinces. Farewell.
“‘CAMBYSES.’”
“My brother is beginning to rule us very soon!” exclaimed Athura,
indignantly.
“He shall not order me!” exclaimed Bardya, fiercely.
“He is King!” warned the Prince of Iran. “Hamadan is many parasangs
nearer Bactra than this city. It is also nearer Lydia. I counsel
obedience. It will be easier to escape from Hamadan than from
Pasargadæ, if escape you must; and a week’s journey will then bring you
into your own realm. Besides, it may be, the King is earnestly desirous
of showing good-will.”
“Good-will!” rejoined Bardya. “The King speaks of my ‘provinces,’ as if
I were a mere satrap! It seems to me that I should be first consulted
in such matters. It is in my mind to return to him a message that I
choose to remain here for a time and then to return direct to Bactra.”
Bardya strode back and forth across the room wrathfully. He threw the
King’s message on the floor and trampled upon it. The Prince of Iran
watched him in gloomy silence. Athura went to her brother and placing
her hand on his shoulders made him halt and look down into her clear,
steady eyes. More than once she had calmed the anger of her impetuous
younger brother thus.
“Brother, listen to me!” she said imploringly. “Listen to the Prince of
Iran, if not to me! We are older than you, and you have never found us
unfaithful to your interests. Cambyses is King of Kings, King of the
World, by right of birth and by your father’s last decree. He speaks
fairly to you. It is right that we visit him at his court in Hamadan
and render him the honor due to him. You are here in his power. You
should never have come hither at all. Wisdom dictates that you go
to Hamadan, in all brotherly kindness. Then should he show an evil
disposition, it will be much easier to escape to Bactra. At all events,
brother, be not first to bring on war. Only in a just cause will the
Aryans follow you.”
Bardya was impressed. He kissed her forehead. “I will do as you
advise,” he replied. “I am crippled by that oath our father exacted of
the King of Iran and of our Prince here. Without their aid, it would be
wild, foolish, and impossible to begin war. I feel that should I begin
the war, even they would oppose me with the armies of Iran. I am no
better than a caged tiger.”
The Prince of Iran looked upon his young friend sorrowfully. “My father
and I have sworn!” he said. “How can our words return to us? We are
bound to support Cambyses as King of Kings. No less are we bound to aid
you if oppressed by him. We will not fail you. Should he seek to detain
you, we shall demand your release, even at the head of an army. What
can you ask more? That we be oath-breakers?”
“No, I ask it not! I will be guided by your advice.”
Having thus decided, the three composed a message from Bardya to the
King, notifying him that it would please Bardya to visit Hamadan on
his way to Bactra and be his guest for some days. The Prince of Iran
then took his departure and went to the camp of the Imperial Guard.
After detailing a strong company to guard the palace wherein slept his
beloved, he called a council of all his chief captains and read to them
the King’s decree directing him and the Guard to march into Western
Asia. The captains were delighted. The common soldiers, when they
heard the news next day, broke forth in a pandemonium of jubilation.
To march into the rich country of rich old Crœsus with their beloved
Prince, to gain renown and wealth, though by hard knocks, under such a
leader--what more could a stout warrior ask? So they all rejoiced and
one and all agreed that King Cambyses was a wise King. But their Prince
and Commander was silent and sorrowful.
Cambyses announced, two days later, that it pleased him to accept the
invitation of the Prince of Iran to hunt royal game on his estates in
the jungles surrounding Lake Baktigan. This lake is a brackish body
of water lying in the bottom of a long, narrow valley between low
mountains, a day’s journey south of Persepolis. It is shallow in summer
and fall, but in spring, after the winter rains, fed by the floods
of the Araxes and several mountain torrents, it rises to respectable
dimensions, and is then about sixty miles long by five wide. Reeds,
grass, shrubs, and stunted trees cover its shores. On the hills near
is some heavy timber. Little known to the modern traveler, yet, in the
ancient days, it was a resort of royal hunters who dared to seek the
lion and the tiger in their lairs. It was a part of the estates of
the King of Iran. The Prince, as was the custom, had invited the King
of Kings to make free use of all his father’s property. But he was
surprised when Cambyses indicated that he would hunt. Prexaspes had
advised his royal master to accept because it would please the Persian
nobility. Cambyses also desired to show himself a mighty hunter, as had
all his ancestry, and this influenced him to dissemble his true feeling
towards the Prince and to accept his invitation. Prince Bardya and the
great lords of Persia were invited to attend. It fell upon the Prince
of Iran as host to provide transportation, victuals, equipage, and
beaters; and right royally did he provide.
It was an imposing expedition that marched down the swift Araxes to the
jungles of Lake Baktigan. First, on a big horse, rode a magnificently
attired master of the hunt, glittering in gold and silver and gorgeous
in crimson uniform. Then followed several hundred skilled hunters,
wardens of the estate whose duty it was to furnish the table of King
Hystaspis with game and to guard his preserves against common robbers
and poachers. They were arrayed in distinctive uniform and were
mounted on wiry animals used to hill-climbing and hunting. With them
was a pack of hounds. Then rode King Cambyses, on a beautiful white
stallion, and looking right royal in his close-fitting tunic, his
leather riding-breeches, red shoes, and round felt cap in which were
stuck several black eagle feathers. A stout armor-bearer rode next
with the King’s short sword, a buckler, a stout bow, and a quiver full
of arrows. Another servant carried javelins and a heavy spear. At the
King’s left and half a horse behind rode Prexaspes similarly arrayed.
Behind them rode the Prince of Iran, Prince Bardya, and a hundred
or more notables. Many pack-animals and servants followed with the
impedimenta.
They camped in a dense forest at the northern end of the lake, where
the Araxes poured in its flood of fresh water. Next day the hunt began.
The chief huntsman built a low platform in the branches of a live-oak
which stood at the crossing of several jungle paths about a mile below
the camp. The King and his armor-bearers took station on this, while
the nobles and retainers formed in line at some distance to the rear
in order to turn the game should it pass him. Cambyses was a great
archer. It was his daily custom to practice shooting with the heavy
Persian bow. He boasted that no man in Iran could excel him. None ever
did excel in his presence, it being convenient to miss and stand lower
in the scores than his Royal Highness. It is related that the King
was accustomed to shoot apples from the heads or hands of boys, an
example possibly followed by William Tell of later fame. The King later
attempted this feat with the son of Prexaspes and slew the son.
The huntsmen went to a point several miles down the lake, and, having
formed a long line with one end resting on the shore and the other far
out on the hills, marched with shouts, horn-blowing, and drum-beating
northward and drove the savage denizens of the wilderness towards the
King. The latter acquitted himself very well. Deer and antelope fell
before his arrows. Jackals, snapping at the shafts which pierced their
vitals, tumbled about and died. The King roared with savage laughter as
the stricken animals leaped to their death. A wild boar was smitten,
but, gnashing his teeth in rage and pain, he turned upon the beaters
desperately and gashed one severely with his tusks. Animals which
escaped the King ran the gantlet of weapons in the hands of the nobles.
The slaughter was great. Two lions were aroused, but they broke through
the line of beaters and escaped. That night all feasted on the King’s
meat and praised his skill.
On the next day Cambyses decided to hunt on foot, following the hunters
with hounds through the jungle paths. His nobles followed to witness
his feats of arms. Hunters and beaters formed a long semicircular line
with the wings thrust forward, one along the margin of the lake, and
the other along a ridge running parallel thereto. The King was at the
middle of the line with the chief hunter. The Prince of Iran, Prince
Bardya, and several of the nobles followed closely after him.
Several smaller animals soon fell before the King’s archery, but
he fretted because no lion or tiger appeared. He ordered the hounds
unloosed. They sprang away into the jungle, and almost immediately
terrific roars announced the presence of lions. A female and a young
lion appeared, dashing towards the hills, the mother turning now and
again to leap at the snarling pack baying at her heels. The King loosed
an arrow at her, but it fell short. He was about to pursue, when a
more thunderous roar close by warned him of the proximity of another
royal beast. An instant later, a black-maned male lion appeared in an
open space twenty paces distant, lashing his tail and emitting breathy
coughs of rage. The animal paused but an instant, crouching low, then
leaped towards the King with gigantic bounds. The King drew an arrow
to its head and launched it. It smote the lion in the shoulder, but
missed a vital point. Cries of terror arose from the attendants, and
the armor-bearer of the King sought to interpose his buckler between
the beast and his master. But master and man went down in a heap under
the impact of the lion’s heavy body. Then the Persian nobles gallantly
hastened to the rescue. The Prince of Iran dashed forward with a heavy
spear and thrust the sharp blade into the red mouth of the lion as it
sprang to meet him. It reared up on hind legs, battling with the heavy
spear. Prince Bardya then shot an arrow into the beast’s side with such
force that the barb passed through its body. Its heart was transfixed;
the great beast gasped, fell over, and died.
Cambyses was not severely injured, but was much chagrined. He had
missed a fair shot, been ignobly thrown down, and saved by those he
hated. He gave short thanks to his saviors and berated his armor-bearer
for not interposing more effectually. He hunted no more after that
on foot in the jungle, but he succeeded in slaying two lions from the
safety of a platform erected in a tree.
The hunt thus having proved a success, the King returned to Pasargadæ.