JASON CLAIMS HIS THRONE
More than a hundred miles northwest of Athens is Thessaly, the most
northern country of Greece. The greater part of it consists of
mountains, the highest and steepest of all Greece. Among these the
loftiest is Mount Olympos, whose summit, with its three snowy peaks
standing out like glittering marble against the blue sky, rises high
above the surrounding ridges. So glorious and so pure and so high did
it appear to the ancient Greeks, that they imagined it to be the
dwelling-place of the gods. It seemed the very end of the world as it
rose up and shut off this horizon; and they believed the throne of
Zeus, himself, to be on its summit.
When the shining crest was obscured by clouds, pious people from many
countries around turned to it in awe and said that the Lord of Heaven
had hid his face, and waited for him to hurl his lightnings and speak
in thunder. And the people of Thessaly loved to walk in the Vale of
Tempe, where the wild fig-tree and wild grape, the willow, and ivy
clung with tough roots to the rugged rocks at the foot of the
mountain.
The most mountainous portion of Thessaly was, of course, wild and
inhospitable. The Centaurs were said to dwell in its gorges and caves,
and it was claimed that they were wiser and gentler than the Centaurs
of Arcadia. They were said to have gathered much lore of herbs and
forest things, and to have been excellent surgeons. The same was told
by fame of the Thessalian mountain-women, who, while as rugged and
fierce as the men, were said to be extremely handsome and great
mistresses in the art of making ointments and magic waters and juices
for the casting of spells; in short, they were famous all over Greece
as the most knowing and dangerous witches.
The land changed wonderfully where it sloped down to the sea. The
narrow valleys spread out into broad plains. The moisture, gathered
and treasured by the forests and protected by their shade, filtered
through the soil, keeping the grass green for the large herds which at
that time were the greatest wealth, both of farmer and king; while the
thousand rivulets and streamlets that hurried down the mountain-side
in brooks and torrents ran together and formed handsome rivers which
scarcely ever became dry or even shallow, as did the small and stony
streams of Attica. Many of the rivers of Attica are so small that they
never reach the sea at all, but run into the sand and waste
themselves, while the Thessalian rivers all carry their waters to the
sea.
The largest of them, that which flows through the richest and most
fertile country, is the Peneus, famed in song and story. In this
beautiful land of Thessaly lived a king, Pelias. He really had no
right to the throne, for he had an older brother. But that brother,
being of a peaceful nature, allowed Pelias to take the crown from him,
while he himself retired to some land he had in the mountains. His
son, Jason, a handsome youth of great promise, he sent for his
education to the wise Centaur, Chiron, who made his home in the
deepest mountain-caves.
When Jason was twenty years old and his education in manly sports and
in the art of war, in song and in music, was such as to do honor to
his master, Chiron, he was directed by an Oracle to go straight to his
uncle Pelias and boldly claim his father's kingdom. This was an
undertaking after his own heart. Shortly after this Pelias celebrated
the yearly festival of Poseidon, the God of the Sea, by solemn
sacrifices offered on the shore. This was a grand national occasion,
so he invited everyone around and did not dare to leave Jason out.
Jason accepted the invitation. He donned the skin of a panther which
he had killed himself, and taking two long spears, started on his way.
Now Pelias had learned from an Oracle that he should lose his kingdom,
and he was always in fear. The Oracle had said that a descendant of
Œolus would take his crown and throne from him, and that this person
would come to him with only one sandal on. Pelias, therefore, was
always on the lookout for the man with one sandal.
As Jason came along he saw an old woman sitting on the bank of a river
which he had to cross. She begged him to take her over. The young
Greeks were taught that their first duty was to be helpful and
respectful to old people. Jason willingly took the old woman in his
arms and carried her over as if she had been a child. She thanked him
and wished him good luck.
The current of the river was strong and rapid and it swept away one of
Jason's sandals. He set the old woman down on the shore after crossing
and then stood in doubt as to whether he had better go back to look
for his sandal. The old woman, however, advised him to proceed on his
way. Then she disappeared. This meeting turned out to be of much
greater importance to the young man than he could have imagined, for
it was the goddess Hera, the Queen of Heaven, herself, who had taken
the shape of an old woman to test his kindness and good-breeding.
Being pleased with both, she remained his friend and protector.
The public square was full of people when Jason arrived. His face was
comely, his figure heroic, and his long hair hung down to the
panther's skin on his shoulders. He carried two long spears and walked
like a king. Everybody turned in wonder to gaze at him, and some of
them said to one another, "This stranger is no mortal man--he must be
Apollo in disguise." Others said, "No, it is the God of War. Look at
his powerful, athletic frame."
Just at this moment Pelias came driving by on his chariot drawn by
two fleet-footed mules. His eyes were also attracted by the beauty of
the youthful stranger, but when he noticed that he wore only one
sandal he trembled with fear. Pelias, being old and crafty, concealed
his anxiety and received his young kinsman with cordial friendliness
seemingly. Jason at once announced his right to the king's throne, and
Pelias admitted his claim.
But Pelias told him that he was too young to take such a responsible
place, and suggested that so stalwart a youth ought to do some valiant
deed to win the respect and admiration of his people before coming
into power. "The people would not care for thee," he said, "if thou
shouldst take the crown as a birthright and not because of thy
prowess."
Then King Pelias proposed, as a suitable and honorable test of Jason's
qualities as hero and leader, that he should cross the Black Sea and
bring from Kolchis the golden fleece of Phrixos' ram. The wily old man
had judged Jason at a glance and knew that no words or offer of his
could appeal more powerfully to the young hero's generous instincts;
he also knew that the danger of such an undertaking would be
attractive to his youthful imagination. But he smiled wickedly under
his beard when Jason delightedly agreed to his proposal. Pelias
thought to himself, "No sane man would ever go on such an expedition,
and not the bravest man could return alive. He will never come back,
and I shall remain the King of Iolkos."