Now the Hydra was more formidable than the lion--nobody in his senses
would dream of attacking it with the least hope of succeeding. It was
a huge water-snake which lived in Lake Lerna, whence it used to issue
to seek for human food. It had a hundred heads, and from each of its
hundred mouths darted a forked tongue of flame, dripping with deadly
poison.
I said that nobody in his senses would attack the Hydra. But I was not
quite right. There was just one sense which would lead a man to attack
any evil, even without hope--of course I mean the sense of Duty. And
it was in that sense that Hercules set forth for Lake Lerna. But he
did not go to work without ample forethought, and taking all the
precautions he could think of. He remembered the thickness and
toughness of the Nemean lion's skin; so he had it made into a sort of
cloak, which served him for armor better than brass or steel. He also
made the young oak-tree into a regular club, which thenceforth became
his favorite weapon. And instead of going alone, he took with him his
friend and kinsman Iolas, to act as his squire. You may always know
Hercules in pictures and statues by his knotted club and his
lion-skin.
* * * * *
It was easy enough to find the Hydra--only too easy. It had its nest
in a foul stagnant swamp, the air of which its breath turned to
poison. Giving Iolas his other arms to hold, Hercules attacked the
Hydra with his club alone, trusting to his lion-skin to receive the
strokes of the creature's fangs. With a tremendous blow he crushed one
of the Hydra's hundred heads, leaving ninety-nine more to destroy if
he could hold out so long. That was bad enough to think of--but, to
his dismay, out of the crushed head sprang two new living heads: and
out of each of these, when he beat them to pieces, sprang forth two
more. And so it was with every head the Hydra had: so that, in truth,
the more Hercules destroyed it, the stronger it grew--its hundred
heads were rapidly becoming a thousand; and the thousand would become
ten thousand; and so on, forever.
Just as Hercules realized the hopelessness of the labor, and was
finding it work enough to ward off the innumerable fangs, a wretched
crab crawled out of the ooze and seized him by the foot, so that he
almost fainted with the sudden pain. It was too cruel, in the midst
of such a battle as that, to feel himself at the mercy of the
miserable vermin of the slime.
However, he crushed the crab under his heel, and, ceasing to multiply
his enemies by killing them, contented himself with defense, while he
thought what could possibly be done.
"No doubt those first hundred heads must all have come from some one
head," thought he. "They could not grow like that without a root; so
that if I could only destroy the root they would cease to grow. This
is my mistake: I am fighting only with what I see, instead of going to
the root of things, and attacking the evil there."
So he called out to Iolas to heat a piece of iron red-hot; and when
this was ready, to stand by, and to scorch with it the place of every
head which the club shattered. The plan answered wonderfully. Hercules
crushed head after head; Iolas applied the red-hot iron; and so root
after root was burned up and perished. And at last they came to the
root of all the heads; and when this was reached and burned, the
monster sputtered and died, just when Hercules felt that he, strong as
he was, could scarce have struck another blow.
Hercules cut open the Hydra, and dipped his arrows in its gall, so
that they should give deadly wounds. Wearily he returned to Mycenæ,
hoping for a little rest. But Eurystheus had hidden himself in his
brazen pot again, whence he cried out:--
"Be off at once; and catch the stag of Œnoe alive!"