shepherds nor sheep in Hellas, and not even the gods knew where the
centre of the earth had been put. Some said that it was at Mount
Olympus, where Zeus sits in his great house with all the deathless ones
around him. Others said that it was in Achaia; and others still, in
Arcadia, now the land of shepherds; and some, who, it seems to me, had
lost their wits, said that it was not in Hellas at all, but in a strange
land beyond the western sea. In order that he might know the truth,
great Zeus one day took two eagles, both of the same strength and
swiftness, and said, 'These birds shall tell us what even the gods do
not know.' Then he carried one of the eagles to the far east, where the
Dawn rises out of Ocean's bed; and he carried the other to the far west
where Helios and his sun-car sink into the waves; and he clapped his
hands together, and the thunder rolled, and the swift birds flew at the
same moment to meet each other; and right above the spot where Delphi
stands, they came together, beak to beak, and both fell dead to the
ground. 'Behold! there is the centre of the earth,' said Zeus. And all
the gods agreed that he was right."
"Do you know the best and shortest road to Delphi?" asked Phemius.
"No one knows it better than I," was the answer. "When I was a boy I fed
my sheep at the foot of Parnassus; and my father and grandfather lived
there, long before the town of Delphi was built, or there was any temple
there for Apollo. Shall I tell you how men came to build a temple at
that spot?"
"Yes, tell us," said Odysseus. "I am anxious to know all about it."
"You must not repeat my story to the priests at Delphi," said the
shepherd, speaking now in a lower tone. "For they have quite a
different way of telling it, and they would say that I have spoken
lightly of sacred things. There was a time when only shepherds lived on
the mountain slopes, and there were neither priests nor warriors nor
robbers in all this land. My grandfather was one of those happy
shepherds; and he often pastured his flocks on the broad terrace where
the town of Delphi now stands, and where the two eagles, which I have
told you about, fell to the ground. One day, a strange thing happened
to him. A goat which was nibbling the grass from the sides of a little
crevice in the rock, fell into a fit, and lay bleating and helpless upon
the ground. My grandfather ran to help the beast; but as he stooped
down, he too fell into a fit, and he saw strange visions, and spoke
prophetic words. Some other shepherds who were passing by saw his
plight, and lifted him up; and as soon as he breathed the fresh air, he
was himself again.
"Often after this, the same thing happened to my grandfather's goats;
and when he had looked carefully into the matter, he found that a warm,
stifling vapor issued at times from the crevice, and that it was the
breathing of this vapor which had caused his goats and even himself to
lose their senses. Then other men came; and they learned that by
sitting close to the crevice, and inhaling its vapor, they gained the
power to foresee things, and the gift of prophecy came to them. And so
they set a tripod over the crevice for a seat, and they built a
temple--small at first--over the tripod; and they sent for the wisest
maidens in the land to come and sit upon the tripod and breathe the
strange vapor, so that they could tell what was otherwise hidden from
human knowledge. Some say that the vapor is the breath of a python, or
great serpent; and they call the priestess who sits upon the tripod
Pythia. But I know nothing about that."
"Are you sure," asked Phemius, "that it was your grandfather who first
found that crevice in the rock?"
"I am not quite sure," said the shepherd. "But I heard the story when I
was a little child, and I know that it was either my grandfather or my
grandfather's grandfather. At any rate, it all happened many, many
years ago."
By this time they had finished their meal; and after they had given
thanks to the powers who had thus far kindly prospered them, they
hastened to renew their journey. Two of the oarsmen, who were landsmen
as well as seamen, were to go with them to carry their luggage and the
little presents which Laertes had sent to the priests at Delphi. The
shepherd was to be their guide; and a second shepherd was to keep them
company, so as to help them in case of need.
The sun was high over their heads when they were ready to begin their
long and toilsome walk. The road at first was smooth and easy, winding
through meadows and orchards and shady pastures. But very soon the way
became steep and uneven, and the olive trees gave place to pines, and
the meadows to barren rocks. The little company toiled bravely onward,
however, the two shepherds leading the way and cheering them with
pleasant melodies on their flutes, while the two sailors with their
heavy loads followed in the rear.
It was quite late in the day when they reached the sacred town of
Delphi, nestling in the very bosom of Parnassus. The mighty mountain
wall now rose straight up before them, seeming to reach even to the
clouds. The priests who kept the temple met them on the outskirts of the
town, and kindly welcomed them for the sake of King Laertes, whom they
knew and had seen; and they besought the wayfarers to abide for some
time in Delphi. Nor, indeed, would Phemius have thought of going
farther until he had prayed to bright Apollo, and offered rich gifts at
his shrine, and questioned the Pythian priestess about the unknown
future.
And so Odysseus and his tutor became the honored guests of the Delphian
folk; and they felt that surely they were now at the very centre of the
world. Their hosts dealt so kindly with them, that a whole month
passed, and still they were in Delphi. And as they talked with the
priests in the temple, or listened to the music of the mountain nymphs,
or drank sweet draughts of wisdom from the Castalian spring, they every
day found it harder and harder to tear themselves away from the
delightful place.
_*ADVENTURE IV.*_
*THE SILVER-BOWED APOLLO.*
One morning Odysseus sat in the shadow of Parnassus with one of the
priests of Apollo, and they talked of many wonderful things; and the boy
began to think to himself that there was more wisdom in the words of his
companion than in all the waters of the Castalian spring. He could see,
from where he sat, the stream of that far-famed fountain, flowing out of
the rocks between two cliffs, and falling in sparkling cascades down the
steep slopes.
"Men think that they gain wisdom by drinking from that spring," said he
to the priest; "but I think that they gain it in quite another way.
They drink of its waters every day; but while they drink, they listen to
the wonderful words which fall from your lips, and they become wise by
hearing, and not by drinking."
The old priest smiled at the shrewdness of the boy. "Let them think as
they please," said he. "In any case, their wisdom would come hard, and
be of little use, if it were not for the silver-bowed Apollo."
"Tell me about Apollo," said Odysseus.
The priest could not have been better pleased. He moved his seat, so
that he could look the boy full in the face, and at the same time have
the temple before him, and then he began:--
"A very long time ago, Apollo was born in distant Delos. And when the
glad news of his birth was told, Earth smiled, and decked herself with
flowers; the nymphs of Delos sang songs of joy that were heard to the
utmost bounds of Hellas; and choirs of white swans flew seven times
around the island, piping notes of praise to the pure being who had come
to dwell among men. Then Zeus looked down from high Olympus, and
crowned the babe with a golden head-band, and put into his hands a
silver bow and a sweet-toned lyre such as no man had ever seen; and he
gave him a team of white swans to drive, and bade him go forth to teach
men the things which are right and good, and to make light that which is
hidden and in darkness.
"And so Apollo arose, beautiful as the morning sun, and journeyed
through many lands, seeking a dwelling-place. He stopped for a time at
the foot of Mount Olympus, and played so sweetly upon his lyre that Zeus
and all his court were entranced. Then he went into Pieria and Iolcos,
and he wandered up and down through the whole length of the Thessalian
land; but nowhere could he find a spot in which he was willing to dwell.
Then he climbed into his car, and bade his swan-team fly with him to the
country of the Hyperboreans beyond the far-off northern mountains.
Forthwith they obeyed; and through the pure regions of the upper air
they bore him, winging their way ever northward. They carried him over
the desert flats where the shepherd folk of Scythia dwell in houses of
wicker-work perched on well-wheeled wagons, and daily drive their flocks
and herds to fresher pastures. They carried him over that unknown land
where the Arimaspian host of one-eyed horsemen dwell beside a river
running bright with gold; and on the seventh day they came to the great
Rhipaean Mountains where the griffins, with lion bodies and eagle wings,
guard the golden treasures of the North. In these mountains, the North
Wind has his home; and from his deep caves he now and then comes forth,
chilling with his cold and angry breath the orchards and the fair fields
of Hellas, and bringing death and dire disasters in his train. But
northward this blustering Boreas cannot blow, for the heaven-towering
mountains stand like a wall against him, and drive him back; and hence
it is that beyond these mountains the storms of winter never come, but
one happy springtime runs through all the year. There the flowers
bloom, and the grain ripens, and the fruits drop mellowing to the earth,
and the red wine is pressed from the luscious grape, every day the same.
And the Hyperboreans who dwell in that favored land know neither pain
nor sickness, nor wearying labor nor eating care; but their youth is as
unfading as the springtime, and old age with its wrinkles and its
sorrows is evermore a stranger to them. For the spirit of evil, which
leads all men to err, has never found entrance among them, and they are
free from vile passions and unworthy thoughts; and among them there is
neither war, nor wicked deeds, nor fear of the avenging Furies, for
their hearts are pure and clean, and never burdened with the love of
self.
"When the swan-team of silver-bowed Apollo had carried him over the
Rhipaean Mountains, they alighted in the Hyperborean land. And the
people welcomed Apollo with shouts of joy and songs of triumph, as one
for whom they had long been waiting. And he took up his abode there,
and dwelt with them one whole year, delighting them with his presence,
and ruling over them as their king. But when twelve moons had passed,
he bethought him that the toiling, suffering men of Hellas needed most
his aid and care. Therefore he bade the Hyperboreans farewell, and
again went up into his sun-bright car; and his winged team carried him
back to the land of his birth.
"Long time Apollo sought a place where he might build a temple to which
men might come to learn of him and to seek his help in time of need. At
length he came to the plain of fair Tilphussa, by the shore of Lake
Copais; and there he began to build a house, for the land was a pleasant
one, well-watered, and rich in grain and fruit. But the nymph Tilphussa
liked not to have Apollo dwell so near her, lest men seeing and loving
him should forget to honor her; and one day garmented with mosses and
crowned with lilies, she came and stood before him in the sunlight.
"'Apollo of the silver bow,' said she, 'have you not made a mistake in
choosing this place for a dwelling? These rich plains around us will not
always be as peaceful as now; for their very richness will tempt the
spoiler, and the song of the cicada will then give place to the din of
battle. Even in times of peace, you would hardly have a quiet hour
here: for great herds of cattle come crowding down every day to my lake
for water; and the noisy ploughman, driving his team afield, disturbs
the morning hour with his boorish shouts; and boys and dogs keep up a
constant din, and make life in this place a burden.'
"'Fair Tilphussa,' said Apollo, 'I had hoped to dwell here in thy happy
vale, a neighbor and friend to thee. Yet, since this place is not what
it seems to be, whither shall I go, and where shall I build my house?"
"'Go to the cleft in Parnassus where the swift eagles of Zeus met above
the earth's centre,' answered the nymph. 'There thou canst dwell in
peace, and men will come from all parts of the world to do thee honor.'
"And so Apollo came down towards Crissa, and here in the cleft of the
mountain he laid the foundations of his shrine. Then he called the
master-architects of the world, Trophonius and Agamedes, and gave to
them the building of the high walls and the massive roof. And when they
had finished their work, he said, 'Say now what reward you most desire
for your labor, and I will give it you.'
"'Give us,' said the brothers, 'that which is the best for men.'
"'It is well,' answered Apollo. 'When the full moon is seen above the
mountain-tops, you shall have your wish."
"But when the moon rose full and clear above the heights, the two
brothers were dead.
[Illustration: APOLLO SLAYING THE PYTHON.]
"And Apollo was pleased with the place which he had chosen for a home;
for here were peace and quiet, and neither the hum of labor nor the din
of battle would be likely ever to enter. Yet there was one thing to be
done before he could have perfect rest. There lived near the foot of
the mountain a huge serpent called Python, which was the terror of all
the land. Oftentimes, coming out of his den, this monster attacked the
flocks and herds, and sometimes even their keepers; and he had been
known to carry little children and helpless women to his den, and there
devour them.
"The men of Delphi came one day to Apollo, and prayed him to drive out
or destroy their terrible enemy. So, taking in hand his silver bow, he
sallied out at break of day to meet the monster when he should issue
from his slimy cave. The vile creature shrank back when he saw the
radiant god before him, and would fain have hidden himself in the deep
gorges of the mountain. But Apollo quickly launched a swift arrow at
him, crying, 'Thou bane of man, lie thou upon the earth, and enrich it
with thy dead body!' And the never-erring arrow sped to the mark; and
the great beast died, wallowing in his gore. And the people in their
joy came out to meet the archer, singing paeans in his praise; and they
crowned him with wild flowers and wreaths of olives, and hailed him as
the Pythian king; and the nightingales sang to him in the groves, and
the swallows and cicadas twittered and tuned their melodies in harmony
with his lyre.[1]
[1] See Note 2 at the end of this volume.
"But as yet there were no priests in Apollo's temple; and he pondered,
long doubting, as to whom he should choose. One day he stood upon the
mountain's top-most peak, whence he could see all Hellas and the seas
around it. Far away in the south, he spied a little ship sailing from
Crete to sandy Pylos; and the men who were on board were Cretan
merchants.
"'These men shall serve in my temple!' he cried.
"Upward he sprang, and high he soared above the sea; then swiftly
descending like a fiery star, he plunged into the waves. There he
changed himself into the form of a dolphin, and swam with speed to
overtake the vessel. Long before the ship had reached Pylos, the mighty
fish came up with it, and struck its stern. The crew were dumb with
terror, and sat still in their places; their oars were motionless; the
sail hung limp and useless from the mast. Yet the vessel sped through
the waves with the speed of the wind, for the dolphin was driving it
forward by the force of his fins. Past many a headland, past Pylos and
many pleasant harbors, they hastened. Vainly did the pilot try to land
at Cyparissa and at Cyllene: the ship would not obey her helm. They
rounded the headland of Araxus, and came into the long bay of Crissa;
and there the dolphin left off guiding the vessel, and swam playfully
around it, while a brisk west wind filled the sail, and bore the
voyagers safely into port.
"Then the dolphin changed into the form of a glowing star, which,
shooting high into the heavens, lit up the whole world with its glory;
and as the awe-stricken crew stood gazing at the wonder, it fell with
the quickness of light upon Parnassus. Into his temple Apollo hastened,
and there he kindled an undying fire. Then, in the form of a handsome
youth, with golden hair falling in waves upon his shoulders, he hastened
to the beach to welcome the Cretan strangers.
"'Hail, seamen!' he cried. 'Who are you, and from whence do you come?
Shall I greet you as friends and guests, or shall I know you as robbers
bringing death and distress to many a fair home?'
"Then answered the Cretan captain, 'Fair stranger, the gods have brought
us hither; for by no wish of our own have we come. We are Cretan
merchants, and we were on our way to sandy Pylos with stores of
merchandise, to barter with the tradesmen of that city. But some unknown
being, whose might is greater than the might of men, has carried us far
beyond our wished-for port, even to this unknown shore. Tell us now, we
pray thee, what land is this? And who art thou who lookest so like a
god?'
"'Friends and guests, for such indeed you must be,' answered the radiant
youth, 'think never again of sailing upon the wine-faced sea, but draw
now your vessel high up on the beach. And when you have brought out all
your goods, and built an altar upon the shore, take of your white barley
which you have with you, and offer it reverently to Phoebus Apollo. For
I am he; and it was I who brought you hither, so that you might keep my
temple, and make known my wishes unto men. And since it was in the form
of a dolphin that you first saw me, let the town which stands around my
temple be known as Delphi, and let men worship me there as Apollo
Delphinius.'
"Then the Cretans did as he had bidden them: they drew their vessel high
up on the white beach, and when they had unladen it of their goods, they
built an altar on the shore, and offered white barley to Phoebus Apollo,
and gave thanks to the ever-living powers who had saved them from the
terrors of the deep. And after they had feasted, and rested from their
long voyage, they turned their faces toward Parnassus; and Apollo,
playing sweeter music than men had ever heard, led the way; and the folk
of Delphi, with choirs of boys and maidens, came to meet them, and they
sang a paean and songs of victory as they helped the Cretans up the
steep pathway to the cleft of Parnassus.
"'I leave you now to have sole care of my temple,' said Apollo. 'I
charge you to keep it well; deal righteously with all men; let no
unclean thing pass your lips; forget self; guard well your thoughts, and
keep your hearts free from guile. If you do these things, you shall be
blessed with length of days and all that makes life glad. But if you
forget my words, and deal treacherously with men, and cause any to
wander from the path of right, then shall you be driven forth homeless
and accursed, and others shall take your places in the service of my
house.'
"And then the bright youth left them and hastened away into Thessaly and
to Mount Olympus. But every year he comes again, and looks into his
house, and speaks words of warning and of hope to his servants; and
often men have seen him on Parnassus, playing his lyre to the listening
Muses, or with his sister, arrow-loving Artemis, chasing the mountain
deer."
Such was the story which the old priest related to Odysseus, sitting in
the shadow of the mountain; and the boy listened with eyes wide open and
full of wonder, half expecting to see the golden-haired Apollo standing
by his side.
_*ADVENTURE V.*_
*THE KING OF CATTLE THIEVES.*
Odysseus and his tutor tarried, as I have told you, a whole month at
Delphi; for Phemius would not venture farther on their journey until the
Pythian oracle should tell him how it would end. In the mean while many
strangers were daily coming from all parts of Hellas, bringing rich
gifts for Apollo's temple, and seeking advice from the Pythia. From
these strangers Odysseus learned many things concerning lands and places
of which he never before had heard; and nothing pleased him better than
to listen to the marvellous tales which each man told about his own home
and people.
One day as he was walking towards the spring of Castalia, an old man,
who had come from Corinth to ask questions of the Pythia, met him, and
stopped to talk with him.
"Young prince," said the old man, "what business can bring one so young
as you to this place sacred to Apollo?"
"I am on my way to visit my grandfather," said Odysseus, "and I have
stopped here for a few days while my tutor consults the oracle."
"Your grandfather! And who is your grandfather?" asked the old man.
"The great chief Autolycus, whose halls are on the other side of
Parnassus," answered Odysseus.
The old man drew a long breath, and after a moment's silence said,
"Perhaps, then, you are going to help your grandfather take care of his
neighbors' cattle."
"I do not know what you mean," answered Odysseus, startled by the tone
in which the stranger spoke these words.
"I mean that your grandfather, who is the most cunning of men, will
expect to teach you his trade," said the man, with a strange twinkle in
his eye.
"My grandfather is a chieftain and a hero," said the boy. "What trade
has he?"
"You pretend not to know that he is a cattle-dealer," answered the old
man, shrugging his shoulders. "Why, all Hellas has known him these
hundred years as the King of Cattle Thieves! But he is very old now,
and the herdsmen and shepherds have little to fear from him any more.
Yet, mind my words, young prince: it does not require the wisdom of the
Pythian oracle to foretell that you, his grandson, will become the
craftiest of men. With Autolycus for your grandfather and Hermes for
your great-grandfather, it would be hard indeed for you to be
otherwise."
At this moment the bard Phemius came up, and the old man walked quickly
away.
"What does he mean?" asked Odysseus, turning to his tutor. "What does
he mean by saying that my grandfather is the king of cattle thieves, and
by speaking of Hermes as my great-grandfather?"
"They tell strange tales about Autolycus, the mountain chief," Phemius
answered; "but whether their stories be true or false, I cannot say.
The old man who was talking to you is from Corinth, where once reigned
Sisyphus, a most cruel and crafty king. From Corinth, Sisyphus sent
ships and traders to all the world; and the wealth of Hellas might have
been his, had he but loved the truth and dealt justly with his
fellow-men. But there was no honor in his soul; he betrayed his dearest
friends for gold; and he crushed under a huge block of stone the
strangers who came to Corinth to barter their merchandise. It is said,
that, once upon a time, Autolycus went down to Corinth in the night, and
carried away all the cattle of Sisyphus, driving them to his great
pastures beyond Parnassus. Not long afterward, Sisyphus went boldly to
your grandfather's halls, and said,--
"'I have come, Autolycus, to get again my cattle which you have been so
kindly pasturing.'
"'It is well,' said Autolycus. 'Go now among my herds, and if you find
any cattle bearing your mark upon them, they are yours: drive them back
to your own pastures. This is the offer which I make to every man who
comes claiming that I have stolen his cattle.'
"Then Sisyphus, to your grandfather's great surprise, went among the
herds, and chose his own without making a single error.
"'See you not my initial, [sigma symbol], under the hoof of each of
these beasts?' asked Sisyphus.
"Autolycus saw at once that he had been outwitted, and he fain would
have made friends with one who was more crafty than himself. But
Sisyphus dealt treacherously with him, as he did with every one who
trusted him. Yet men say, that, now he is dead, he has his reward in
Hades; for there he is doomed to the never-ending toil of heaving a
heavy stone to the top of a hill, only to see it roll back again to the
plain.[1] It was from him that men learned to call your grandfather the
King of Cattle Thieves; with how much justice, you may judge for
yourself."
[1] See Note 3 at the end of this volume.
"You have explained a part of what I asked you," said Odysseus
thoughtfully, "but you have not answered my question about Hermes."
"I will answer that at another time," said Phemius; "for to-morrow we
must renew our journey, and I must go now and put every thing in
readiness."[2]
[2] See Note 4 at the end of this volume.
"But has the oracle spoken?" asked Odysseus in surprise.
"The Pythia has answered my question," said the bard. "I asked what
fortune should attend you on this journey, and the oracle made this
reply:--
'To home and kindred he shall safe return e'er long,
With scars well-won, and greeted with triumphal song.'"
"What does it mean?" asked Odysseus.
"Just what it says," answered the bard. "All that is now needed is that
we should do our part, and fortune will surely smile upon us."