[Illustration]
Did you ever hear of the golden apples, that grew in the garden of the
Hesperides? Ah, those were such apples as would bring a great price,
by the bushel, if any of them could be found growing in the orchards
of nowadays! But there is not, I suppose, a graft of that wonderful
fruit on a single tree in the wide world. Not so much as a seed of
those apples exists any longer.
And, even in the old, old, half-forgotten times, before the garden of
the Hesperides was overrun with weeds, a great many people doubted
whether there could be real trees that bore apples of solid gold upon
their branches. All had heard of them, but nobody remembered to have
seen any. Children, nevertheless, used to listen, open-mouthed, to
stories of the golden apple-tree, and resolved to discover it, when
they should be big enough. Adventurous young men, who desired to do a
braver thing than any of their fellows, set out in quest of this
fruit. Many of them returned no more; none of them brought back the
apples. No wonder that they found it impossible to gather them! It is
said that there was a dragon beneath the tree, with a hundred terrible
heads, fifty of which were always on the watch, while the other fifty
slept.
In my opinion it was hardly worth running so much risk for the sake of
a solid golden apple. Had the apples been sweet, mellow, and juicy,
indeed that would be another matter. There might then have been some
sense in trying to get at them, in spite of the hundred-headed dragon.
But, as I have already told you, it was quite a common thing with
young persons, when tired of too much peace and rest, to go in search
of the garden of the Hesperides. And once the adventure was undertaken
by a hero who had enjoyed very little peace or rest since he came into
the world. At the time of which I am going to speak, he was wandering
through the pleasant land of Italy, with a mighty club in his hand,
and a bow and quiver slung across his shoulders. He was wrapt in the
skin of the biggest and fiercest lion that ever had been seen, and
which he himself had killed; and though, on the whole, he was kind,
and generous, and noble, there was a good deal of the lion's
fierceness in his heart. As he went on his way, he continually
inquired whether that were the right road to the famous garden. But
none of the country people knew anything about the matter, and many
looked as if they would have laughed at the question, if the stranger
had not carried so very big a club.
So he journeyed on and on, still making the same inquiry, until, at
last, he came to the brink of a river where some beautiful young women
sat twining wreaths of flowers.
"Can you tell me, pretty maidens," asked the stranger, "whether this
is the right way to the garden of the Hesperides?"
The young women had been having a fine time together, weaving the
flowers into wreaths, and crowning one another's heads. And there
seemed to be a kind of magic in the touch of their fingers, that made
the flowers more fresh and dewy, and of brighter hues, and sweeter
fragrance, while they played with them, than even when they had been
growing on their native stems. But, on hearing the stranger's
question, they dropped all their flowers on the grass, and gazed at
him with astonishment.
"The garden of the Hesperides!" cried one. "We thought mortals had
been weary of seeking it, after so many disappointments. And pray,
adventurous traveler, what do you want there?"
"A certain king, who is my cousin," replied he, "has ordered me to get
him three of the golden apples."
"Most of the young men who go in quest of these apples," observed
another of the damsels, "desire to obtain them for themselves, or to
present them to some fair maiden whom they love. Do you, then, love
this king, your cousin, so very much?"
"Perhaps not," replied the stranger, sighing. "He has often been
severe and cruel to me. But it is my destiny to obey him."
"And do you know," asked the damsel who had first spoken, "that a
terrible dragon, with a hundred heads, keeps watch under the golden
apple-tree?"
"I know it well," answered the stranger, calmly. "But, from my cradle
upwards, it has been my business, and almost my pastime, to deal with
serpents and dragons."
The young women looked at his massive club, and at the shaggy lion's
skin which he wore, and likewise at his heroic limbs and figure; and
they whispered to each other that the stranger appeared to be one who
might reasonably expect to perform deeds far beyond the might of other
men. But, then, the dragon with a hundred heads! What mortal, even if
he possessed a hundred lives, could hope to escape the fangs of such a
monster? So kind-hearted were the maidens, that they could not bear to
see this brave and handsome traveler attempt what was so very
dangerous, and devote himself, most probably, to become a meal for the
dragon's hundred ravenous mouths.
"Go back," cried they all,--"go back to your own home! Your mother,
beholding you safe and sound, will shed tears of joy; and what can she
do more, should you win ever so great a victory? No matter for the
golden apples! No matter for the king, your cruel cousin! We do not
wish the dragon with the hundred heads to eat you up!"
[Illustration: HERCVLES & THE NYMPHS]
The stranger seemed to grow impatient at these remonstrances. He
carelessly lifted his mighty club, and let it fall upon a rock that
lay half buried in the earth, near by. With the force of that idle
blow, the great rock was shattered all to pieces. It cost the stranger
no more effort to achieve this feat of a giant's strength than for one
of the young maidens to touch her sister's rosy cheek with a flower.
"Do you not believe," said he, looking at the damsels with a smile,
"that such a blow would have crushed one of the dragon's hundred
heads?"
Then he sat down on the grass, and told them the story of his life, or
as much of it as he could remember, from the day when he was first
cradled in a warrior's brazen shield. While he lay there, two immense
serpents came gliding over the floor, and opened their hideous jaws to
devour him; and he, a baby of a few months old, had griped one of the
fierce snakes in each of his little fists, and strangled them to
death. When he was but a stripling, he had killed a huge lion, almost
as big as the one whose vast and shaggy hide he now wore upon his
shoulders. The next thing that he had done was to fight a battle with
an ugly sort of monster, called a hydra, which had no less than nine
heads, and exceedingly sharp teeth in every one.
"But the dragon of the Hesperides, you know," observed one of the
damsels, "has a hundred heads!"
"Nevertheless," replied the stranger, "I would rather fight two such
dragons than a single hydra. For, as fast as I cut off a head, two
others grew in its place; and, besides, there was one of the heads
that could not possibly be killed, but kept biting as fiercely as
ever, long after it was cut off. So I was forced to bury it under a
stone, where it is doubtless alive to this very day. But the hydra's
body, and its eight other heads, will never do any further mischief."
The damsels, judging that the story was likely to last a good while,
had been preparing a repast of bread and grapes, that the stranger
might refresh himself in the intervals of his talk. They took pleasure
in helping him to this simple food; and, now and then, one of them
would put a sweet grape between her rosy lips, lest it should make him
bashful to eat alone.
The traveler proceeded to tell how he had chased a very swift stag,
for a twelvemonth together, without ever stopping to take breath, and
had at last caught it by the antlers, and carried it home alive. And
he had fought with a very odd race of people, half horses and half
men, and had put them all to death, from a sense of duty, in order
that their ugly figures might never be seen any more. Besides all
this, he took to himself great credit for having cleaned out a stable.
"Do you call that a wonderful exploit?" asked one of the young
maidens, with a smile. "Any clown in the country has done as much!"
"Had it been an ordinary stable," replied the stranger, "I should not
have mentioned it. But this was so gigantic a task that it would have
taken me all my life to perform it, if I had not luckily thought of
turning the channel of a river through the stable-door. That did the
business in a very short time!"
Seeing how earnestly his fair auditors listened, he next told them how
he had shot some monstrous birds, and had caught a wild bull alive and
let him go again, and had tamed a number of very wild horses, and had
conquered Hippolyta, the warlike queen of the Amazons. He mentioned,
likewise, that he had taken off Hippolyta's enchanted girdle, and had
given it to the daughter of his cousin, the king.
"Was it the girdle of Venus," inquired the prettiest of the damsels,
"which makes women beautiful?"
"No," answered the stranger. "It had formerly been the sword-belt of
Mars; and it can only make the wearer valiant and courageous."
"An old sword-belt!" cried the damsel, tossing her head. "Then I
should not care about having it!"
"You are right," said the stranger.
Going on with his wonderful narrative, he informed the maidens that as
strange an adventure as ever happened was when he fought with Geryon,
the six-legged man. This was a very odd and frightful sort of figure,
as you may well believe. Any person, looking at his tracks in the sand
or snow, would suppose that three sociable companions had been walking
along together. On hearing his footsteps at a little distance, it was
no more than reasonable to judge that several people must be coming.
But it was only the strange man Geryon clattering onward, with his six
legs!
Six legs, and one gigantic body! Certainly, he must have been a very
queer monster to look at; and, my stars, what a waste of shoe-leather!
When the stranger had finished the story of his adventures, he looked
around at the attentive faces of the maidens.
"Perhaps you may have heard of me before," said he, modestly. "My name
is Hercules!"
"We had already guessed it," replied the maidens; "for your wonderful
deeds are known all over the world. We do not think it strange, any
longer, that you should set out in quest of the golden apples of the
Hesperides. Come, sisters, let us crown the hero with flowers!"
Then they flung beautiful wreaths over his stately head and mighty
shoulders, so that the lion's skin was almost entirely covered with
roses. They took possession of his ponderous club, and so entwined it
about with the brightest, softest, and most fragrant blossoms, that
not a finger's breadth of its oaken substance could be seen. It looked
all like a huge bunch of flowers. Lastly, they joined hands, and
danced around him, chanting words which became poetry of their own
accord, and grew into a choral song, in honor of the illustrious
Hercules.
And Hercules was rejoiced, as any other hero would have been, to know
that these fair young girls had heard of the valiant deeds which it
had cost him so much toil and danger to achieve. But, still, he was
not satisfied. He could not think that what he had already done was
worthy of so much honor, while there remained any bold or difficult
adventure to be undertaken.
"Dear maidens," said he, when they paused to take breath, "now that
you know my name, will you not tell me how I am to reach the garden of
the Hesperides?"
"Ah! must you go so soon?" they exclaimed. "You--that have performed
so many wonders, and spent such a toilsome life--cannot you content
yourself to repose a little while on the margin of this peaceful
river?"
Hercules shook his head.
"I must depart now," said he.
"We will then give you the best directions we can," replied the
damsels. "You must go to the sea-shore, and find out the Old One, and
compel him to inform you where the golden apples are to be found."
"The Old One!" repeated Hercules, laughing at this odd name. "And,
pray, who may the Old One be?"
"Why, the Old Man of the Sea, to be sure!" answered one of the
damsels. "He has fifty daughters, whom some people call very
beautiful; but we do not think it proper to be acquainted with them,
because they have sea-green hair, and taper away like fishes. You must
talk with this Old Man of the Sea. He is a sea-faring person, and
knows all about the garden of the Hesperides; for it is situated in an
island which he is often in the habit of visiting."
Hercules then asked whereabouts the Old One was most likely to be met
with. When the damsels had informed him, he thanked them for all their
kindness,--for the bread and grapes with which they had fed him, the
lovely flowers with which they had crowned him, and the songs and
dances wherewith they had done him honor,--and he thanked them, most
of all, for telling him the right way,--and immediately set forth upon
his journey.
But, before he was out of hearing, one of the maidens called after
him.
"Keep fast hold of the Old One, when you catch him!" cried she,
smiling, and lifting her finger to make the caution more impressive.
"Do not be astonished at anything that may happen. Only hold him fast,
and he will tell you what you wish to know."
Hercules again thanked her, and pursued his way, while the maidens
resumed their pleasant labor of making flower-wreaths. They talked
about the hero, long after he was gone.
"We will crown him with the loveliest of our garlands," said they,
"when he returns hither with the three golden apples, after slaying
the dragon with a hundred heads."
Meanwhile, Hercules traveled constantly onward, over hill and dale,
and through the solitary woods. Sometimes he swung his club aloft, and
splintered a mighty oak with a downright blow. His mind was so full of
the giants and monsters with whom it was the business of his life to
fight, that perhaps he mistook the great tree for a giant or a
monster. And so eager was Hercules to achieve what he had undertaken,
that he almost regretted to have spent so much time with the damsels,
wasting idle breath upon the story of his adventures. But thus it
always is with persons who are destined to perform great things. What
they have already done seems less than nothing. What they have taken
in hand to do seems worth toil, danger, and life itself.
Persons who happened to be passing through the forest must have been
affrighted to see him smite the trees with his great club. With but a
single blow, the trunk was riven as by the stroke of lightning, and
the broad boughs came rustling and crashing down.
Hastening forward, without ever pausing or looking behind, he by and
by heard the sea roaring at a distance. At this sound, he increased
his speed, and soon came to a beach, where the great surf-waves
tumbled themselves upon the hard sand, in a long line of snowy foam.
At one end of the beach, however, there was a pleasant spot, where
some green shrubbery clambered up a cliff, making its rocky face look
soft and beautiful. A carpet of verdant grass, largely intermixed with
sweet-smelling clover, covered the narrow space between the bottom of
the cliff and the sea. And what should Hercules espy there, but an old
man, fast asleep!
But was it really and truly an old man? Certainly, at first sight, it
looked very like one; but, on closer inspection, it rather seemed to
be some kind of a creature that lived in the sea. For, on his legs and
arms there were scales, such as fishes have; he was web-footed and
web-fingered, after the fashion of a duck; and his long beard, being
of a greenish tinge, had more the appearance of a tuft of sea-weed
than of an ordinary beard. Have you never seen a stick of timber, that
has been long tossed about by the waves, and has got all overgrown
with barnacles, and, at last drifting ashore, seems to have been
thrown up from the very deepest bottom of the sea? Well, the old man
would have put you in mind of just such a wave-tost spar! But
Hercules, the instant he set eyes on this strange figure, was
convinced that it could be no other than the Old One, who was to
direct him on his way.
Yes, it was the selfsame Old Man of the Sea whom the hospitable
maidens had talked to him about. Thanking his stars for the lucky
accident of finding the old fellow asleep, Hercules stole on tiptoe
towards him, and caught him by the arm and leg.
"Tell me," cried he, before the Old One was well awake, "which is the
way to the garden of the Hesperides?"
[Illustration: HERCVLES & THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA]
As you may easily imagine, the Old Man of the Sea awoke in a fright.
But his astonishment could hardly have been greater than was that of
Hercules, the next moment. For, all of a sudden, the Old One seemed to
disappear out of his grasp, and he found himself holding a stag by the
fore and hind leg! But still he kept fast hold. Then the stag
disappeared, and in its stead there was a sea-bird, fluttering and
screaming, while Hercules clutched it by the wing and claw! But the
bird could not get away. Immediately afterwards, there was an ugly
three-headed dog, which growled and barked at Hercules, and snapped
fiercely at the hands by which he held him! But Hercules would not let
him go. In another minute, instead of the three-headed dog, what
should appear but Geryon, the six-legged man-monster, kicking at
Hercules with five of his legs, in order to get the remaining one at
liberty! But Hercules held on. By and by, no Geryon was there, but a
huge snake, like one of those which Hercules had strangled in his
babyhood, only a hundred times as big; and it twisted and twined about
the hero's neck and body, and threw its tail high into the air, and
opened its deadly jaws as if to devour him outright; so that it was
really a very terrible spectacle! But Hercules was no whit
disheartened, and squeezed the great snake so tightly that he soon
began to hiss with pain.
You must understand that the Old Man of the Sea, though he generally
looked so much like the wave-beaten figure-head of a vessel, had the
power of assuming any shape he pleased. When he found himself so
roughly seized by Hercules, he had been in hopes of putting him into
such surprise and terror, by these magical transformations, that the
hero would be glad to let him go. If Hercules had relaxed his grasp,
the Old One would certainly have plunged down to the very bottom of
the sea, whence he would not soon have given himself the trouble of
coming up, in order to answer any impertinent questions. Ninety-nine
people out of a hundred, I suppose, would have been frightened out of
their wits by the very first of his ugly shapes, and would have taken
to their heels at once. For, one of the hardest things in this world
is, to see the difference between real dangers and imaginary ones.
But, as Hercules held on so stubbornly, and only squeezed the Old One
so much the tighter at every change of shape, and really put him to no
small torture, he finally thought it best to reappear in his own
figure. So there he was again, a fishy, scaly, web-footed sort of
personage, with something like a tuft of sea-weed at his chin.
"Pray, what do you want with me?" cried the Old One, as soon as he
could take breath; for it is quite a tiresome affair to go through so
many false shapes. "Why do you squeeze me so hard? Let me go, this
moment, or I shall begin to consider you an extremely uncivil person!"
"My name is Hercules!" roared the mighty stranger. "And you will never
get out of my clutch, until you tell me the nearest way to the garden
of the Hesperides!"
When the old fellow heard who it was that had caught him, he saw, with
half an eye, that it would be necessary to tell him everything that he
wanted to know. The Old One was an inhabitant of the sea, you must
recollect, and roamed about everywhere, like other sea-faring people.
Of course, he had often heard of the fame of Hercules, and of the
wonderful things that he was constantly performing, in various parts
of the earth, and how determined he always was to accomplish whatever
he undertook. He therefore made no more attempts to escape, but told
the hero how to find the garden of the Hesperides, and likewise
warned him of many difficulties which must be overcome, before he
could arrive thither.
"You must go on, thus and thus," said the Old Man of the Sea, after
taking the points of the compass, "till you come in sight of a very
tall giant, who holds the sky on his shoulders. And the giant, if he
happens to be in the humor, will tell you exactly where the garden of
the Hesperides lies."
"And if the giant happens not to be in the humor," remarked Hercules,
balancing his club on the tip of his finger, "perhaps I shall find
means to persuade him!"
Thanking the Old Man of the Sea, and begging his pardon for having
squeezed him so roughly, the hero resumed his journey. He met with a
great many strange adventures, which would be well worth your hearing,
if I had leisure to narrate them as minutely as they deserve.
It was in this journey, if I mistake not, that he encountered a
prodigious giant, who was so wonderfully contrived by nature, that
every time he touched the earth he became ten times as strong as ever
he had been before. His name was Antaeus. You may see, plainly enough,
that it was a very difficult business to fight with such a fellow;
for, as often as he got a knock-down blow, up he started again,
stronger, fiercer, and abler to use his weapons, than if his enemy had
let him alone. Thus, the harder Hercules pounded the giant with his
club, the further he seemed from winning the victory. I have sometimes
argued with such people, but never fought with one. The only way in
which Hercules found it possible to finish the battle, was by lifting
Antaeus off his feet into the air, and squeezing, and squeezing, and
squeezing him, until, finally, the strength was quite squeezed out of
his enormous body.
When this affair was finished, Hercules continued his travels, and
went to the land of Egypt, where he was taken prisoner, and would have
been put to death, if he had not slain the king of the country, and
made his escape. Passing through the deserts of Africa, and going as
fast as he could, he arrived at last on the shore of the great ocean.
And here, unless he could walk on the crests of the billows, it seemed
as if his journey must needs be at an end.
Nothing was before him, save the foaming, dashing, measureless ocean.
But, suddenly, as he looked towards the horizon, he saw something, a
great way off, which he had not seen the moment before. It gleamed
very brightly, almost as you may have beheld the round, golden disk of
the sun, when it rises or sets over the edge of the world. It
evidently drew nearer; for, at every instant, this wonderful object
became larger and more lustrous. At length, it had come so nigh that
Hercules discovered it to be an immense cup or bowl, made either of
gold or burnished brass. How it had got afloat upon the sea is more
than I can tell you. There it was, at all events, rolling on the
tumultuous billows, which tossed it up and down, and heaved their
foamy tops against its sides, but without ever throwing their spray
over the brim.
"I have seen many giants, in my time," thought Hercules, "but never
one that would need to drink his wine out of a cup like this!"
And, true enough, what a cup it must have been! It was as large--as
large--but, in short, I am afraid to say how immeasurably large it
was. To speak within bounds, it was ten times larger than a great
mill-wheel; and, all of metal as it was, it floated over the heaving
surges more lightly than an acorn-cup adown the brook. The waves
tumbled it onward, until it grazed against the shore, within a short
distance of the spot where Hercules was standing.
As soon as this happened, he knew what was to be done; for he had not
gone through so many remarkable adventures without learning pretty
well how to conduct himself, whenever anything came to pass a little
out of the common rule. It was just as clear as daylight that this
marvelous cup had been set adrift by some unseen power, and guided
hitherward, in order to carry Hercules across the sea, on his way to
the garden of the Hesperides. Accordingly, without a moment's delay,
he clambered over the brim, and slid down on the inside, where,
spreading out his lion's skin, he proceeded to take a little repose.
He had scarcely rested, until now, since he bade farewell to the
damsels on the margin of the river. The waves dashed, with a pleasant
and ringing sound, against the circumference of the hollow cup; it
rocked lightly to and fro, and the motion was so soothing that it
speedily rocked Hercules into an agreeable slumber.
His nap had probably lasted a good while, when the cup chanced to
graze against a rock, and, in consequence, immediately resounded and
reverberated through its golden or brazen substance, a hundred times
as loudly as ever you heard a church-bell. The noise awoke Hercules,
who instantly started up and gazed around him, wondering whereabouts
he was. He was not long in discovering that the cup had floated across
a great part of the sea, and was approaching the shore of what seemed
to be an island. And, on that island, what do you think he saw?
No; you will never guess it, not if you were to try fifty thousand
times! It positively appears to me that this was the most marvelous
spectacle that had ever been seen by Hercules, in the whole course of
his wonderful travels and adventures. It was a greater marvel than the
hydra with nine heads, which kept growing twice as fast as they were
cut off; greater than the six-legged man-monster; greater than Antaeus;
greater than anything that was ever beheld by anybody, before or since
the days of Hercules, or than anything that remains to be beheld, by
travelers in all time to come. It was a giant!
But such an intolerably big giant! A giant as tall as a mountain; so
vast a giant, that the clouds rested about his midst, like a girdle,
and hung like a hoary beard from his chin, and flitted before his huge
eyes, so that he could neither see Hercules nor the golden cup in
which he was voyaging. And, most wonderful of all, the giant held up
his great hands and appeared to support the sky, which, so far as
Hercules could discern through the clouds, was resting upon his head!
This does really seem almost too much to believe.
[Illustration: HERCVLES AND ATLAS]
Meanwhile, the bright cup continued to float onward, and finally
touched the strand. Just then a breeze wafted away the clouds from
before the giant's visage, and Hercules beheld it, with all its
enormous features; eyes each of them as big as yonder lake, a nose a
mile long, and a mouth of the same width. It was a countenance
terrible from its enormity of size, but disconsolate and weary, even
as you may see the faces of many people, nowadays, who are compelled
to sustain burdens above their strength. What the sky was to the
giant, such are the cares of earth to those who let themselves be
weighed down by them. And whenever men undertake what is beyond the
just measure of their abilities, they encounter precisely such a doom
as had befallen this poor giant.
Poor fellow! He had evidently stood there a long while. An ancient
forest had been growing and decaying around his feet; and oak-trees,
of six or seven centuries old, had sprung from the acorn, and forced
themselves between his toes.
The giant now looked down from the far height of his great eyes, and,
perceiving Hercules, roared out, in a voice that resembled thunder,
proceeding out of the cloud that had just flitted away from his face.
"Who are you, down at my feet there? And whence do you come, in that
little cup?"
"I am Hercules!" thundered back the hero, in a voice pretty nearly or
quite as loud as the giant's own. "And I am seeking for the garden of
the Hesperides!"
"Ho! ho! ho!" roared the giant, in a fit of immense laughter. "That is
a wise adventure, truly!"
"And why not?" cried Hercules, getting a little angry at the giant's
mirth. "Do you think I am afraid of the dragon with a hundred heads!"
Just at this time, while they were talking together, some black clouds
gathered about the giant's middle, and burst into a tremendous storm
of thunder and lightning, causing such a pother that Hercules found it
impossible to distinguish a word. Only the giant's immeasurable legs
were to be seen, standing up into the obscurity of the tempest; and,
now and then, a momentary glimpse of his whole figure, mantled in a
volume of mist. He seemed to be speaking, most of the time; but his
big, deep, rough voice chimed in with the reverberations of the
thunder-claps, and rolled away over the hills, like them. Thus, by
talking out of season, the foolish giant expended an incalculable
quantity of breath, to no purpose; for the thunder spoke quite as
intelligibly as he.
At last, the storm swept over, as suddenly as it had come. And there
again was the clear sky, and the weary giant holding it up, and the
pleasant sunshine beaming over his vast height, and illuminating it
against the background of the sullen thunder-clouds. So far above the
shower had been his head, that not a hair of it was moistened by the
rain-drops!
When the giant could see Hercules still standing on the sea-shore, he
roared out to him anew.
"I am Atlas, the mightiest giant in the world! And I hold the sky upon
my head!"
"So I see," answered Hercules. "But, can you show me the way to the
garden of the Hesperides?"
"What do you want there?" asked the giant.
"I want three of the golden apples," shouted Hercules, "for my cousin,
the king."
"There is nobody but myself," quoth the giant, "that can go to the
garden of the Hesperides, and gather the golden apples. If it were not
for this little business of holding up the sky, I would make half a
dozen steps across the sea, and get them for you."
"You are very kind," replied Hercules. "And cannot you rest the sky
upon a mountain?"
"None of them are quite high enough," said Atlas, shaking his head.
"But, if you were to take your stand on the summit of that nearest
one, your head would be pretty nearly on a level with mine. You seem
to be a fellow of some strength. What if you should take my burden on
your shoulders, while I do your errand for you?"
Hercules, as you must be careful to remember, was a remarkably strong
man; and though it certainly requires a great deal of muscular power
to uphold the sky, yet, if any mortal could be supposed capable of
such an exploit, he was the one. Nevertheless, it seemed so difficult
an undertaking, that, for the first time in his life, he hesitated.
"Is the sky very heavy?" he inquired.
"Why, not particularly so, at first," answered the giant, shrugging
his shoulders. "But it gets to be a little burdensome, after a
thousand years!"
"And how long a time," asked the hero, "will it take you to get the
golden apples?"
"Oh, that will be done in a few moments," cried Atlas. "I shall take
ten or fifteen miles at a stride, and be at the garden and back again
before your shoulders begin to ache."
"Well, then," answered Hercules, "I will climb the mountain behind you
there, and relieve you of your burden."
The truth is, Hercules had a kind heart of his own, and considered
that he should be doing the giant a favor, by allowing him this
opportunity for a ramble. And, besides, he thought that it would be
still more for his own glory, if he could boast of upholding the sky,
than merely to do so ordinary a thing as to conquer a dragon with a
hundred heads. Accordingly, without more words, the sky was shifted
from the shoulders of Atlas, and placed upon those of Hercules.
When this was safely accomplished, the first thing that the giant did
was to stretch himself; and you may imagine what a prodigious
spectacle he was then. Next, he slowly lifted one of his feet out of
the forest that had grown up around it; then, the other. Then, all at
once, he began to caper, and leap, and dance, for joy at his freedom;
flinging himself nobody knows how high into the air, and floundering
down again with a shock that made the earth tremble. Then he
laughed--Ho! ho! ho!--with a thunderous roar that was echoed from the
mountains, far and near, as if they and the giant had been so many
rejoicing brothers. When his joy had a little subsided, he stepped
into the sea; ten miles at the first stride, which brought him midleg
deep; and ten miles at the second, when the water came just above his
knees; and ten miles more at the third, by which he was immersed
nearly to his waist. This was the greatest depth of the sea.
Hercules watched the giant, as he still went onward; for it was really
a wonderful sight, this immense human form, more than thirty miles
off, half hidden in the ocean, but with his upper half as tall, and
misty, and blue, as a distant mountain. At last the gigantic shape
faded entirely out of view. And now Hercules began to consider what he
should do, in case Atlas should be drowned in the sea, or if he were
to be stung to death by the dragon with the hundred heads, which
guarded the golden apples of the Hesperides. If any such misfortune
were to happen, how could he ever get rid of the sky? And, by the by,
its weight began already to be a little irksome to his head and
shoulders.
"I really pity the poor giant," thought Hercules. "If it wearies me so
much in ten minutes, how must it have wearied him in a thousand
years!"
O my sweet little people, you have no idea what a weight there was in
that same blue sky, which looks so soft and aerial above our heads!
And there, too, was the bluster of the wind, and the chill and watery
clouds, and the blazing sun, all taking their turns to make Hercules
uncomfortable! He began to be afraid that the giant would never come
back. He gazed wistfully at the world beneath him, and acknowledged to
himself that it was a far happier kind of life to be a shepherd at the
foot of a mountain, than to stand on its dizzy summit, and bear up the
firmament with his might and main. For, of course, as you will easily
understand, Hercules had an immense responsibility on his mind, as
well as a weight on his head and shoulders. Why, if he did not stand
perfectly still, and keep the sky immovable, the sun would perhaps be
put ajar! Or, after nightfall, a great many of the stars might be
loosened from their places, and shower down, like fiery rain, upon the
people's heads! And how ashamed would the hero be, if, owing to his
unsteadiness beneath its weight, the sky should crack, and show a
great fissure quite across it!
I know not how long it was before, to his unspeakable joy, he beheld
the huge shape of the giant, like a cloud, on the far-off edge of the
sea. At his nearer approach, Atlas held up his hand, in which Hercules
could perceive three magnificent golden apples, as big as pumpkins,
all hanging from one branch.
"I am glad to see you again," shouted Hercules, when the giant was
within hearing. "So you have got the golden apples?"
"Certainly, certainly," answered Atlas; "and very fair apples they
are. I took the finest that grew on the tree, I assure you. Ah! it is
a beautiful spot, that garden of the Hesperides. Yes; and the dragon
with a hundred heads is a sight worth any man's seeing. After all, you
had better have gone for the apples yourself."
"No matter," replied Hercules. "You have had a pleasant ramble, and
have done the business as well as I could. I heartily thank you for
your trouble. And now, as I have a long way to go, and am rather in
haste,--and as the king, my cousin, is anxious to receive the golden
apples,--will you be kind enough to take the sky off my shoulders
again?"
"Why, as to that," said the giant, chucking the golden apples into the
air twenty miles high, or thereabouts, and catching them as they came
down,--"as to that, my good friend, I consider you a little
unreasonable. Cannot I carry the golden apples to the king, your
cousin, much quicker than you could? As his majesty is in such a hurry
to get them, I promise you to take my longest strides. And, besides, I
have no fancy for burdening myself with the sky, just now."
Here Hercules grew impatient, and gave a great shrug of his shoulders.
It being now twilight, you might have seen two or three stars tumble
out of their places. Everybody on earth looked upward in affright,
thinking that the sky might be going to fall next.
"Oh, that will never do!" cried Giant Atlas, with a great roar of
laughter. "I have not let fall so many stars within the last five
centuries. By the time you have stood there as long as I did, you will
begin to learn patience!"
"What!" shouted Hercules, very wrathfully, "do you intend to make me
bear this burden forever?"
"We will see about that, one of these days," answered the giant. "At
all events, you ought not to complain, if you have to bear it the next
hundred years, or perhaps the next thousand. I bore it a good while
longer, in spite of the back-ache. Well, then, after a thousand years,
if I happen to feel in the mood, we may possibly shift about again.
You are certainly a very strong man, and can never have a better
opportunity to prove it. Posterity will talk of you, I warrant it!"
"Pish! a fig for its talk!" cried Hercules, with another hitch of his
shoulders. "Just take the sky upon your head one instant, will you? I
want to make a cushion of my lion's skin, for the weight to rest upon.
It really chafes me, and will cause unnecessary inconvenience in so
many centuries as I am to stand here."
"That's no more than fair, and I'll do it!" quoth the giant; for he
had no unkind feeling towards Hercules, and was merely acting with a
too selfish consideration of his own ease. "For just five minutes,
then, I'll take back the sky. Only for five minutes, recollect! I have
no idea of spending another thousand years as I spent the last.
Variety is the spice of life, say I."
Ah, the thick-witted old rogue of a giant! He threw down the golden
apples, and received back the sky, from the head and shoulders of
Hercules, upon his own, where it rightly belonged. And Hercules picked
up the three golden apples, that were as big or bigger than pumpkins,
and straightway set out on his journey homeward, without paying the
slightest heed to the thundering tones of the giant, who bellowed
after him to come back. Another forest sprang up around his feet, and
grew ancient there; and again might be seen oak-trees, of six or seven
centuries old, that had waxed thus aged betwixt his enormous toes.
And there stands the giant to this day; or, at any rate, there stands
a mountain as tall as he, and which bears his name; and when the
thunder rumbles about its summit, we may imagine it to be the voice of
Giant Atlas, bellowing after Hercules!
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