gives an amusing account of the story in the words of Hephæstus and
Zeus.
_Hephæstus._--"What must I do, O Zeus? For I have come with my ax, the
sharpest one, if it should be necessary to cleave stones at one blow."
_Zeus._--"That is good, O Hephæstus, but bring it down and cleave my
head in twain."
_Heph._--"Are you trying me or are you insane? Tell me truly what you
wish of me."
_Zeus._--"This very thing, to cleave my head. If you disobey, not now
for the first time will you make trial of my anger. You must strike
with your whole heart and not delay for I am tortured by the pains
which confuse my brain."
_Heph._--"See to it, O Zeus, lest we do some harm, for the ax is sharp
and not without bloodshed."
_Zeus._--"Only strike quickly, Hephæstus, for I know the consequences."
_Heph._--"I am unwilling, but still I shall strike, for what must I
do when you bid? What is this? A maiden clad in armor! A great evil,
O Zeus, did you have in your head! Naturally were you quick to anger,
keeping such a maiden beneath the covering of your brain and armed
too. I suppose it has escaped our notice that you had a camp and
not a head. She leaps and dances, shakes her shield, brandishes her
spear, and is in an ecstasy. And the greatest marvel, she is fair and
vigorous--already in this short time. Quick-glancing eyes has she, and
a helmet, too, adorns her. Therefore, oh Zeus, as my wages, promise her
to me."
_Zeus._--"You ask what is impossible, Hephæstus, for a maiden always it
is her wish to remain. I, as far as I am concerned, do not gainsay it."
_Heph._--"I wanted this. I'll manage it and I'll snatch her away."
_Zeus._--"If it is easy for you, do it. Still I know that you ask what
is impossible."
A certain Philostratus gives descriptions of paintings which he
pretended belonged to a gallery in Naples, and this is one of them:
"The Birth of Athena."
"Those astonished ones are the gods and goddesses to whom the order
has been given that even the nymphs are not to be absent from heaven,
but are to be present with the rivers from which they are sprung. They
shudder at Athena, but just now sprung in her arms from the head of
Zeus, by the arts of Hephæstus, as the ax shows. No one could imagine
the material of her panoply, for as many as are the colors of the
rainbow as it changes into different lights, so many colors flash from
her arms. And Hephæstus seems in doubt by what gift he should win the
favor of the goddess for his bait is spent since her arms have grown
with her.
Zeus gasps with pleasure, as those enduring great pain for great gain,
and inquires for his child, proud that he bore her, and Hera is not
angry, but rejoices as if she had borne the maiden herself. Now two
peoples sacrifice to Athena on two citadels, the Athenians and the
Rhodians, land and sea; of the one indeed the sacrifices are without
fire and incomplete. Among the Athenians fire is painted and the savor
of sacrifices and smoke, as if fragrant and ascending with the savor;
therefore, as to the wiser and those sacrificing well, the goddess
comes to them. It is said that gold was poured down from heaven for the
Rhodians and filled their houses and streets since Zeus poured out a
cloud upon them because they, too, revered Athena; and the god Wealth
stood upon their acropolis, winged, as if from the clouds and golden
from the material in which he appears, and he is painted as having
eyes, for from foresight he came to them."
Now that practically all the evidence has been brought it is time to
investigate the theories propounded by these modern scholars and the
various interpretations which they put upon this strange birth of a
deity.
Preller looks upon Athena as the goddess of the clear sky. In the
cloudy sky, in the midst of the storm and lightning the clear bright
heaven appeared, and this was the birth of Athena. The sky is of the
greatest beauty in Greece, especially in Attica, so Athena was most
honored in this land.
To another German scholar, Welcker, she is the æther and also the
spirit, presenting both sides of the nature of her father, being æther,
the daughter of Zeus dwelling in the æther and spirit, the daughter
of Zeus the most high spirit. He lays a great deal of stress upon
etymologies in his method of proof, deriving the name Athena from
æther, but as every author has a different derivation for this name
equally plausible, it is impossible to have full confidence in this
gentleman's theory.
Ploix regards Athena as the twilight, and Max Müller brings forward
his inevitable "Dawn" as the true solution of the question, but the
view which is presented in Roscher's Lexicon is perhaps the most
sensible of all on this side. Originally Athena was the storm-cloud,
and her birth from the head of Zeus shows this, Roscher maintains. This
interpretation is evident all through the myth. The clouds appear in
different forms, sometimes as the head of Zeus the god of the weather,
at other times as the ægis. The lightning is the bright hatchet or
glittering lance with which the blow is dealt. The thunder is the
terrible war cry. That she was born in the west adds to this evidence,
as storms came to the Greeks from that direction.
Farnell contends valiantly in support of his theory that Athena
represents no physical force in nature, but wisdom. In antiquity he
acknowledges that some philosophers did regard Athena in the other
light. Aristotle looked upon her as the moon. The stoic Diogenes
Babylonius gave a physical explanation of her birth. He recalls also
a comment of a scholiast to Pindar, which tells that Aristocles said
that the goddess was concealed in a cloud, and that Zeus, striking the
cloud, made the goddess appear. He remarks that philosophers then,
in their vagaries, were no better than modern scholars, but that the
conceptions which the Greek people and poets had are important for us
in reaching a true conclusion; so he endeavors to prove that neither in
the accounts of the poets nor in the minds of the Greeks was there any
physical conception of the goddess.
In the hymn quoted above he reminds us that there is no thunder which
could not be left out if this were the description of a storm. He
says also that there is nothing physical in the picture which Pindar
gives us, unless the terrible cry of a deity must be taken to mean
thunder. Lucian tells of no storm, and Philostratus, who is so fond
of finding remote allusions does not seem to find any indication of a
clash of the elements. The only physical feature in his description
is the comparison of the panoply of Athena to a rainbow. So Farnell
says: "It may be admitted, then, that these poetical descriptions do
not consciously express the physical fact. To make them serve the other
theories we must regard their highly wrought phrases as mere survivals
of an ancient poetical symbolic diction which did more clearly express
this." If this were true, would not the earlier accounts preserve
this diction for us? But they do not, for this symbolic language is
not found in either Homer or Hesiod. He says: "Is it not more natural
to say that as imagination dwelt upon her birth the poets tended to
embellish it with the richest phraseology, to represent it as a great
cosmic incident in which the powers of heaven and earth were concerned?"
His opponents seem to base all their interpretations upon the later
accounts, beginning with the Homeric hymn, for this story which Hesiod
gives is in the way as there is no phenomenon in the world of nature
corresponding to the swallowing of Metis. Metis is Thought or Counsel
and is a personification of this abstract idea as Hesiod shows by
calling her the most knowing of gods and men. Preller objects to
this, and affirms that this primitive language does not deal with
abstractions, and that the adjective thus applied to her by Hesiod
simply connects her with the water, as there is a sea nymph of that
name. But in all the myths which mention Metis, she appears as Thought
or Counsel, and it is absurd in a language which personifies grace,
righteous indignation, and law not to allow Metis (Thought) to be a
similar personification.
Of course the worship of Athena had been long in vogue before a
story of her birth arose. So Farnell reasons out the origin of the
story thus: In her worship Athena appeared to have abundant thought
and counsel, therefore she naturally became the daughter of Thought
or Counsel, the daughter of Metis; she had all the powers of Zeus,
therefore she became the daughter of Zeus, and as she had no feminine
weakness and inclined to father more than mother, she could not have
been born in the ordinary way, and this might have been so if Zeus had
followed a fashion common in myth and had swallowed her mother, Metis.
The prophecy given in Hesiod as the reason for the swallowing probably
arose after the story, as the fulfillment of the prophecy could have
been hindered in easier ways, and it is likely that this reason was
borrowed from other myths, as, for example, the Cronos story.
The above explanation, Farnell says, is, of course, only a hypothesis,
but it has the advantage over the others of being suggested by the
most ancient form of the legend and the most ancient ideas concerning
the goddess. He adds that the appearance of Prometheus and Hephæstus
in later accounts would only strengthen his interpretation, the
association of these divine artists with the goddess of wisdom and of
the arts of life.
This was a favorite subject with the artists from the earliest times
as old vase paintings bear witness. But the famous representation was
that in the east pediment of the Parthenon, the work of Phidias. Only
fragments of this remain to-day. The central group is entirely lost
except for the torso of one god, supposed by some to be Hephæstus, but
more probably it is that of Prometheus. So the fragments are of the
side groups and not so helpful in recalling the original, but still
conjectures and reproductions have been innumerable.
In Madrid a Roman puteal has been found which is believed to present
the central group of the east pediment. Upon this Zeus is seated,
before him Athena flees away, Victory flies after her to place a crown
upon her head and behind Zeus Prometheus with the ax in his hand draws
back in fright and turns away. This group of Phidias was, of course,
the culmination of this story in art. The later representations are few
and supposed to be merely copies of this.
[Illustration: FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
WHIPPOORWILL.
3/4 Life-size.
COPYRIGHT 1899, NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]
THE WHIPPOORWILL.
What farm boy has not heard this birdless voice echoing from the
ghostly shades of the thicket close at hand, or scarcely audible in the
distance? Perhaps you have heard it as you have passed between the wood
and the hill over there, coming clear from the wood but reëchoing from
the hill only the shrill last syllable. Farther away on the distant
hill-top you may have taken this last syllable for the piping of the
salamander. The "whippoorwill" song belongs with the early May moonlit
balmy nights, before the blossoms have lost their best perfume and
before farm work has become a mere drudgery.
It vividly recalls the merry May-basketing frolics, apparently so
necessary to existence on the farm; the fresh green fields and woodland
blossoms; the planting season with all its hidden promises. There is,
in the warble of the bluebird, glad promise of returning spring; and in
the animated whistle of the phoebe reiteration of the earlier promise;
but the whippoorwill tells of that delightful season realized. His is
not a complaint groaned forth, but a glad announcement of joy fully
come.
My early home nestled in one of those gems of woodland that dot the
rolling Iowa prairies. One of my earliest memories of this old home is
the twilight choruses of the whippoorwills in the door-yard. They often
ventured upon the door-step and sang for minutes at a time, apparently
oblivious of the members of the family seated just inside the open
door. On more than one occasion more than one bird occupied the
door-step at the same time, all the while apparently trying to drown
each others' voices in a continuous flow of song. At such times the
delightful mellowness which one hears, with the birds in the distance,
gives place to an almost painful, penetrating shrillness. The more
deliberately uttered song is invariably preceded by a strongly guttural
sound not unlike that produced by striking an inflated rubber bag. The
near-by song, to my ear, sounds like "_qui ko wee_," the first syllable
with a strong "q" sound. I have never heard them sing later than 11
o'clock in the evening nor earlier than 3 in the morning.
It is well-nigh impossible to creep upon a singing bird in the woods,
even if it could be seen in the dim light, but it was not unusual, at
my old home, for the birds to playfully fly round and round anyone who
might be standing out in the yard at twilight. The birds often came so
close that the wings seemed to brush the face. The flight is so utterly
noiseless that the object of their sport is aware of the presence
before he can fully realize what it is.
The whippoorwill inhabits the eastern portion of the United States,
west to eastern North and South Dakota and Nebraska, western Kansas,
Indian Territory and Texas; north to southern Canada, into Nova Scotia
and Manitoba; and south in winter into eastern Mexico and Guatemala. It
breeds in the northern and central parts of its range, and rarely to
Florida.
The nest is made late in May or early in June, in the Northern states.
The eggs are two in number, light gray or white, with brown and lilac
markings often arranged in scratchings and pencilings besides the spots
and blotches. There is usually scarcely more of a nest than the leaves
lying on the ground; rarely nothing but the bare ground.
THE EAGLE.
(_Continued from page 25._)
Eagles are sometimes caught by placing a large cage on edge so it will
fall when a string is pulled. A live hen and her chickens are tied to
the cage so they may run under when the eagle comes at them. As they
run into the cage to escape the eagle, he follows them, the string is
pulled, and the eagle finds himself alone in the trap, for the hen
and her chickens easily get out between the bars which are too close
together to allow him to do the same.
An eagle once attacked a weasel. This little animal is very fierce,
and will not give up its life easily. Finding itself in the grasp of
the bird, the weasel turned and fastened its teeth in the throat of
the eagle. It was lucky for the eagle that the weasel did not cut his
throat, but the little animal never let go. Its teeth were locked into
the flesh of the eagle so they could not be torn open. Years afterwards
the eagle was shot, and it had on its neck a queer locket, the skull
of the weasel hanging there by the teeth. Sometimes the weasel cuts a
vital part in the bird that picks it up, and then the weasel enjoys the
life-blood of his enemy.
We have a gold coin that is named after the eagle. It is worth ten
dollars. In fact it is ten dollars in gold. The first one was made in
1792. Half-eagles, quarter-eagles, and double-eagles have also been
made of gold at our nation's mints.
In some countries besides America it has been the national bird. When
the army of Rome first tried to land in England the men feared the
fierce English soldiers. One soldier had an Eagle with him in the
boat. He jumped into the sea with his eagle and called to his friends
to follow him. They soon put the enemy to flight, and the eagle was
praised for helping them win.
The eagle is fond of capturing such birds as the swan. When he finds a
swan flying so high that it cannot get to the water and dive out of his
reach the eagle flies against the swan from below with such force that
the breath is knocked out of the swan in an instant. As the swan falls
lifeless to the ground the eagle invites his mate to meet him at the
spot and they have a great feast.
The eagle flies swifter than a railway train, but one was once
caught by a train before it could rise and get out of the way. The
"cannon-ball" train on the Georgia Railway was late. In making up time
it swung round a curve in a cut at full speed. A bald eagle was seen on
the track by the fireman, who was looking out of the window. The pilot
of the engine was upon the bird before he could rise. It struck him,
tumbled him upon the frame, and fastened one of his claws into a wooden
beam.
Before the eagle had time to get back his senses the fireman climbed
along the foot-rail to the pilot. He caught the great bird, and a
fierce struggle followed. The bird fought for freedom and the fireman
fought for a prize.
The train was going at the rate of forty-five miles an hour. It was
hard for the man to keep himself on the engine with one hand on the
rail and the other holding the eagle, which tore at him wildly as the
engine swung to and fro upon the rails.
The man's clothing was torn to shreds and his hands were bleeding. But
he worked his way back to the cab where the engineer assisted him in
tying the eagle so he could not get away. But the tying was not easy
for two men, for the bird made good use of his great beak and claws.
When spread out on the car floor he measured seven feet from tip to
tip of his wings. He was not injured, and is now kept as a splendid
prisoner, the king of American birds.
MIGRATORY BIRDS.
In the New World the birds of the temperate zone are rather perplexing
in their migratory habits. Many of those which go north to Canada
and Alaska in the summer pass the winter in Mexico, Panama, and even
South Columbia; while others, as well as a number of migrants from the
United States, go over to the West Indies. One of the most wonderful
instances of migration is that of the tiny flame-breasted humming-bird
(_Selasphorus rufus_), which breeds on the west coast of America as far
north as Alaska and Bering Island, and winters in Lower California and
Mexico. Thus, with unerring instinct, this diminutive bird, scarcely
two inches long, flies twice a year the astounding distance of over
3,000 miles. The birds which belong to the second class--those which
breed in the Arctic regions--comprise the swans, many of the waders,
and a considerable number of ducks and geese. In Europe these birds
spend the winter in all the countries from England south to the
Mediterranean and Black seas, some even going as far south as the
upper reaches of the Nile. In Asia most of the waders, such as snipe,
woodcock, sandpipers, and plovers, as well as the ducks and the geese,
spend the winter in India and South China. In America the Arctic birds
migrate to the Southern United States and Mexico.
The partial migrants, which form the third class, are rather more
puzzling in their movements, for among them we find birds whose motives
for wandering are very diverse. Some are unwilling slaves--_i. e._,
they get mixed up in the big flights of true migratory birds, and are
irresistibly hurried along with them; such are the rooks, starlings,
robins, etc., which are so frequently seen in Heligoland in the midst
of a flock of swallows, warblers, and other genuine migrants. Another
lot of these partial migrants are those which, perhaps, most justly
deserve this name; viz., such birds as larks, pipits, titmice, etc.,
which, although resident with us all the year round, at times greatly
diminish in numbers, owing to more than half the individuals changing
their abode. For instance, those which breed in Scotland and England
wander in the winter over to France, but, unlike the true migrant,
always leave some of their number behind.--_Walter Rothschild, The
Nineteenth Century._
HOW BIRDS CARRY SEEDS.
Dr. Howard, the new secretary of the American Association for the
Advancement of Science, writing of the manner in which seeds are
carried to a great distance by birds, recited an experiment of
Darwin, which had a curious result. Adhering to the leg of a wounded
partridge, Darwin found a ball of earth weighing six and a half ounces.
From the seeds contained in this ball he raised thirty-two plants
belonging to five distinct species.
THE SHIP OF THE DESERT.
The pack camel travels very slowly, and until you are sufficiently
reconciled to the motion to be able to doze on its back, you are
constantly tempted to get off and walk. If you want speed, you must
buy a racing camel. This seems to belong to a different creation. It
is much taller, more alert and more intelligent. It can accomplish 150
miles in sixteen hours without undue effort, and, in the matter of
price, compares with the pack camel as the thoroughbred does with the
cab horse.
THE SNAPPING-TURTLE.
By reason of the ferocity of disposition of this curious animal, the
snapping-turtle (_Chelydra serpentina_) is rather formidable, not only
to the smaller creatures which inhabit the same localities, but also to
man, its bite causing very severe wounds. It is found in America from
Canada to Ecuador, and there are few localities where it is not met
with frequently. Swimmers in small lakes are sometimes attacked by it,
the habits of the animal both in the water and on land being the same.
It is bold as well as fierce, often suffering itself to be lifted from
the ground by the object which it has grasped rather than to let go its
hold. If attacked, the reptile's long reach and strong jaws enable it
to defeat any ordinary foe. The elongated tail of the snapping-turtle
has given rise to the popular name, alligator turtle and, being
appended to the small, comparatively thin shell, giving an elongated
appearance to the body, the specific name _serpentina_ resulted.
When the snapper elevates itself for the attack, with half-open mouth
and sullen eyes, there is said to be something fiery and defiant in
its attitude, though it is so slow and awkward in recovering itself
after missing its point of attack that it presents a most ludicrous
appearance. These turtles are remarkably strong. The elder Agassiz
states that he observed one bite off a piece of plank more than an inch
thick. They also attain considerable size, being the largest inland
representative of the order, specimens not infrequently exceeding
three feet in length. It is carnivorous in its habits, and is very
destructive of fish, small quadrupeds, birds, and reptiles. Many have
been the water-fowl which have ventured too close to their voracious
enemy. Its appetite is said to be so great that it will even catch
young alligators, and devour them in spite of their teeth and struggles.
The flesh of the snapping-turtle is delicate, tender, and of rich
flavor. Every fisherman knows that it will take almost any kind of
bait, provided it be of animal substance. It, however, prefers fish,
and cannot resist a hook so baited.
In the northern United States, from the tenth to the twentieth of June,
it has been observed, the female, at early morning, leaves the water
and crawls to a sandbank, digs a small cavity with its hind leg, into
which the small, round eggs are deposited to the number of twenty-five
or thirty, when the sand is drawn over them, the surface smoothed
down, and the animal is soon back in the water, the entire operation
not lasting over twenty minutes. This method is different from that of
our other land turtles. Nothing but sand will suit the purpose of the
snapping-turtle. In order to find a suitable spot for the burial of her
eggs, the female is often forced to traverse a considerable distance.
The sand must be quite dry and exposed to the full rays of the sun. The
little ones are hatched in July. The young run by instinct into the
water.
Remarkable stories are told of the longevity of the turtle and of
its tenacity of life. That they live to near a century is well
authenticated. After the head is severed from the body the head will
open and shut the mouth and roll the eyes. In one case a stick was held
between the open jaws, which closed upon it with violence, and kept
hold of it. Meanwhile the headless body was crawling on the ground.
An allied form (_Macrochelys lacertina_) inhabits the tributaries of
the Mexican Gulf, extending northward in the Mississippi as far as
Missouri.
[Illustration: FROM COL. F. M. WOODRUFF.
SNAPPING TURTLE.
1/4 Life-size.
COPYRIGHT 1899, NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]
THE STORY OF LITTLE BILLEE.
CAROLINE CROWNINSHIELD BASCOM.