of his body to be immersed in it. He addressed the tree; "Grandfather,
stretch yourself." The tree did so. But the waters still rose. He
repeated his request, and was again obeyed. He asked a third time, and
was again obeyed; but the tree replied, "It is the last time; I cannot
get any higher." The waters continued to rise till they reached up
to his chin, at which point they stood, and soon began to abate. Hope
revived in his heart. He then cast his eyes around the illimitable
expanse, and spied a loon. "Dive down, my brother," he said to him,
"and fetch up some earth, so that I can make a new earth." The bird
obeyed, but rose up to the surface a lifeless form. He then saw a
muskrat. "Dive!" said he, "and if you succeed, you may hereafter live
either on land or water, as you please; or I will give you a chain of
beautiful little lakes, surrounded with rushes, to inhabit." He dove
down, but floated up senseless. He took the body and breathed in
his nostrils, which restored him to life. "Try again," said he. The
muskrat did so. He came up senseless the second time, but clutched a
little earth in one of his paws, from which, together with the carcass
of the dead loon, he created a new earth as large as the former had
been, with all living animals, fowls, and plants.
As he was walking to survey the new earth, he heard some one singing.
He went to the place, and found a female spirit, in the disguise of an
old woman, singing these words, and crying at every pause:
"Ma nau bo sho, O dó zheem un,
Ogeem au wun, Onis sa waun,
Hee-Ub bub ub bub (crying).
Dread Hiawatha in revenge,
For his grandson lost--
Has killed the chief--the king."
"Noko," said he, "what is the matter?" "Matter!" said she, "where have
you been, that you have not heard how Hiawatha shot my son, the Prince
of serpents, in revenge for the loss of his grandson, and how the
earth was overflowed, and created anew? So I brought my son here, that
he might kill and destroy the inhabitants, as he did on the former
earth. But," she continued, casting a scrutinizing glance, "N'yau!
indego Hiawatha! hub! ub! ub! ub! Oh, I am afraid you are Hiawatha!"
He burst out into a laugh to quiet her fears. "Ha! ha! ha! how can
that be? Has not the old world perished, and all that was in it?"
"Impossible! impossible!" "But, Noko," he continued, "what do you
intend doing with all that cedar cord on your back?" "Why," said she,
"I am fixing a snare for Hiawatha, if he should be on this earth; and,
in the mean time, I am looking for herbs to heal my son. I am the only
person that can do him any good. He always gets better when I sing:
"'Hiawatha a ne we guawk,
Koan dan mau wah, ne we guawk,
Koan dan mau wah, ne we guawk,
It is Hiawatha's dart,
I try my magic power to withdraw."
Having found out, by conversation with her, all he wished, he put her
to death. He then took off her skin, and assuming this disguise, took
the cedar cord on his back, and limped away singing her songs. He
completely aped the gait and voice of the old woman. He was met by one
who told him to make haste; that the Prince was worse. At the lodge,
limping and muttering, he took notice that they had his grandson's
hide to hang over the door. "Oh dogs!" said he; "the evil dogs!" He
sat down near the door, and commenced sobbing like an aged woman. One
observed, "Why don't you attend the sick, and not sit there making
such a noise?" He took up the poker and laid it on them, mimicking the
voice of the old woman. "Dogs that you are! why do you laugh at me?
You know very well that I am so sorry that I am nearly out of my
head."
With that he approached the Prince, singing the songs of the old
woman, without exciting any suspicion. He saw that his arrow had gone
in about one half its length. He pretended to make preparations for
extracting it, but only made ready to finish his victim; and giving
the dart a sudden thrust, he put a period to the Prince's life. He
performed this act with the power of a giant, bursting the old woman's
skin, and at the same moment rushing through the door, the serpents
following him, hissing and crying out, "Perfidy! murder! vengeance! it
is Hiawatha." He immediately transformed himself into a wolf, and ran
over the plain with all his speed, aided by his father the West Wind.
When he got to the mountains he saw a badger. "Brother," said he,
"make a hole quick, for the serpents are after me." The badger obeyed.
They both went in, and the badger threw all the earth backward, so
that it filled up the way behind.
The serpents came to the badger's burrow, and decided to watch, "We
will starve him out," said they; so they continue watching. Hiawatha
told the badger to make an opening on the other side of the mountain,
from which he could go out and hunt, and bring meat in. Thus they
lived some time. One day the badger came in his way and displeased
him. He immediately put him to death, and threw out his carcass,
saying, "I don't like you to be getting in my way so often."
After living in this confinement for some time alone, he decided to
go out. He immediately did so; and after making the circuit of the
mountain, came to the corpse of the Prince, who had been deserted by
the serpents to pursue his destroyer. He went to work and skinned him.
He then drew on his skin, in which there were great virtues, took up
his war-club, and set out for the place where he first went in the
ground. He found the serpents still watching. When they saw the form
of their dead Prince advancing towards them, fear and dread took hold
of them. Some fled. Those who remained Hiawatha killed. Those who fled
went towards the South.
Having accomplished the victory over the reptiles, Hiawatha returned
to his former place of dwelling and married the arrow-maker's
daughter.
LEGENDARY HEROES OF MANY COUNTRIES
HEROES OF GREECE AND ROME
PERSEUS
ADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR
I
PERSEUS AND HIS MOTHER
Once upon a time there were two Princes who were twins. They lived
in a pleasant vale far away in Hellas. They had fruitful meadows and
vineyards, sheep and oxen, great herds of horses, and all that men
could need to make them blest. And yet they were wretched, because
they were jealous of each other.
From the moment they were born they began to quarrel, and when they
grew up, each tried to take away the other's share of the kingdom and
keep all for himself.
And there came a prophet to one of the hard-hearted Princes and said,
"Because you have risen up against your own family, your own family
shall rise up against you. Because you have sinned against your
kindred, by your kindred shall you be punished. Your daughter Danæ
shall bear a son, and by that son's hands you shall die. So the gods
have said, and it shall surely come to pass."
At that the hard-hearted Prince was very much afraid, but he did not
mend his ways. For when he became King, he shut up his fair daughter
Danæ in a cavern underground, lined with brass, that no one might come
near her. So he fancied himself more cunning than the gods.
Now it came to pass that in time Danæ bore a son, so beautiful a babe
that any but the King would have had pity on it. But he had no pity,
for he took Danæ and her babe down to the seashore, and put them into
a great chest and thrust them out to sea, that the winds and the waves
might carry them whithersoever they would.
And away and out to sea before the northwest wind floated the mother
and her babe, while all who watched them wept, save that cruel King.
So they floated on and on, and the chest danced up and down upon the
billows, and the babe slept in its mother's arms. But the poor mother
could not sleep, but watched and wept, and she sang to her babe as
they floated.
Now they are past the last blue headland and in the open sea. There is
nothing round them but waves, and the sky and the wind. But the waves
are gentle and the sky is clear, and the breeze is tender and low.
So a night passed and a day, and a long day it was to Danæ, and
another night and day beside, till Danæ was faint with hunger and
weeping, and yet no land appeared.
And all the while the babe slept quietly, and at last poor Danæ
drooped her head and fell asleep likewise, with her cheek against her
babe's.
After a while she was awakened suddenly, for the chest was jarring and
grinding, and the air was full of sound. She looked up, and over her
head were mighty cliffs, and around her rocks and breakers and flying
flakes of foam.
She clasped her hands together and shrieked aloud for help. And when
she cried, help met her, for now there came over the rocks a tall and
stately man, and looked down wondering upon poor Danæ, tossing about
in the chest among the waves.
He wore a rough cloak, and on his head a broad hat to shade his face,
and in his hand he carried a trident, which is a three-pronged fork
for spearing fish, and over his shoulder was a casting net.
[Illustration: SO DANAE WAS COMFORTED AND WENT HOME WITH DICTYS.]
But Danæ could see that he was no common man by his height and his
walk, and his flowing golden hair and beard, and by the two servants
who came behind him carrying baskets for his fish.
She had hardly time to look at him, before he had laid aside his
trident and leapt down the rocks, and thrown his casting net so surely
over Danæ and the chest, that he drew it and her and the babe safe
upon a ledge of rock.
Then the fisherman took Danæ by the hand and lifted her out of the
chest and said, "O beautiful damsel, what strange chance has brought
you to this island in so frail a ship? Who are you, and whence? Surely
you are some king's daughter, and this boy belongs to the gods."
And as he spoke he pointed to the babe, for its face shone like the
morning star.
But Danæ only held down her head and sobbed out, "Tell me to what land
I have come, and among what men I have fallen."
And he said, "Polydectes is King of this isle, and he is my brother.
Men call me Dictys the Netter, because I catch the fish of the shore."
Then Danæ fell down at his feet and embraced his knees and cried, "O
Sir, have pity upon a stranger, whom cruel doom has driven to your
land, and let me live in your house as a servant. But treat me
honorably, for I was once a king's daughter, and this my boy is of
no common race. I will not be a charge to you, or eat the bread of
idleness, for I am more skilful in weaving and embroidery than all the
maidens of my land."
And she was going on, but Dictys stopped her and raised her up and
said, "My daughter, I am old, and my hairs are growing gray, while I
have no children to make my home cheerful. Come with me, then, and you
shall be a daughter to me and to my wife, and this babe shall be our
grandchild."
So Danæ was comforted and went home with Dictys, the good fisherman,
and was a daughter to him and to his wife, till fifteen years were
past.
II
HOW PERSEUS VOWED A RASH VOW
Fifteen years were past and gone, and the babe was now grown to be a
tall lad and a sailor.
His mother called him Perseus, but all the people in the isle called
him the King of the Immortals.
For though he was but fifteen, Perseus was taller by a head than
any man in the island. And he was brave and truthful, and gentle and
courteous, for good old Dictys had trained him well, and well it was
for Perseus that he had done so. For now Danæ and her son fell into
great danger, and Perseus had need of all his strength to defend his
mother and himself.
Polydectes, the King of the island, was not a good man like his
brother Dictys, but he was greedy and cunning and cruel.
And when he saw fair Danæ, he wanted to marry her. But she would not,
for she did not love him, and cared for no one but her boy.
At last Polydectes became furious, and while Perseus was away at sea,
he took poor Danæ away from Dictys, saying, "If you will not be my
wife, you shall be my slave."
So Danæ was made a slave, and had to fetch water from the well, and
grind in the mill.
But Perseus was far away over the seas, little thinking that his
mother was in great grief and sorrow.
Now one day, while the ship was lading, Perseus wandered into a
pleasant wood to get out of the sun, and sat down on the turf and fell
asleep. And as he slept a strange dream came to him, the strangest
dream he had ever had in his life.
There came a lady to him through the wood, taller than he, or any
mortal man, but beautiful exceedingly, with great gray eyes, clear and
piercing, but strangely soft and mild. On her head was a helmet, and
in her hand a spear. And over her shoulder, above her long blue robes,
hung a goat-skin, which bore up a mighty shield of brass, polished
like a mirror.
She stood and looked at him with her clear gray eyes. And Perseus
dropped his eyes, trembling and blushing, as the wonderful lady spoke.
"Perseus, you must do an errand for me."
"Who are you, lady? And how do you know my name?"
Then the strange lady, whose name was Athene, laughed, and held up
her brazen shield, and cried, "See here, Perseus, dare you face such
a monster as this and slay it, that I may place its head upon this
shield?"
And in the mirror of the shield there appeared a face, and as Perseus
looked on it his blood ran cold. It was the face of a beautiful woman,
but her cheeks were pale, and her lips were thin. Instead of hair,
vipers wreathed about her temples and shot out their forked tongues,
and she had claws of brass.
Perseus looked awhile and then said, "If there is anything so fierce
and ugly on earth, it were a noble deed to kill it. Where can I find
the monster?"
Then the strange lady smiled again and said, "You are too young, for
this is Medusa the Gorgon. Return to your home, and when you have done
the work that awaits you there, you may be worthy to go in search of
the monster."
Perseus would have spoken, but the strange lady vanished, and he
awoke, and behold it was a dream.
So he returned home, and the first thing he heard was that his mother
was a slave in the house of Polydectes.
Grinding his teeth with rage, he went out, and away to the King's
palace, and through the men's rooms and the women's rooms, and so
through all the house, till he found his mother sitting on the floor
turning the stone hand-mill, and weeping as she turned it.
And he lifted her up and kissed her, and bade her follow him forth.
But before they could pass out of the room Polydectes came in.
When Perseus saw the King, he flew upon him and cried, "Tyrant! is
this thy mercy to strangers and widows? Thou shalt die." And because
he had no sword he caught up the stone hand-mill, and lifted it to
dash out Polydectes's brains.
But his mother clung to him, shrieking, and good Dictys too entreated
him to remember that the cruel King was his brother.
Then Perseus lowered his hand, and Polydectes, who had been trembling
all this while like a coward, let Perseus and his mother pass.
So Perseus took his mother to the temple of Athené, and there the
priestess made her one of the temple sweepers. And there they knew
that she would be safe, for not even Polydectes would dare to drag her
out of the temple. And there Perseus and the good Dictys and his wife
came to visit her every day.
As for Polydectes, not being able to get Danæ by force, he cast about
how he might get her by cunning. He was sure he could never get back
Danæ as long as Perseus was in the island, so he made a plot to get
rid of him. First he pretended to have forgiven Perseus, and to
have forgotten Danæ, so that for a while all went smoothly. Next he
proclaimed a great feast and invited to it all the chiefs and the
young men of the island, and among them Perseus, that they might all
do him homage as their King, and eat of his banquet in his hall.
On the appointed day they all came, and as the custom was then, each
guest brought with him a present for the King. One brought a horse,
another a shawl, or a ring, or a sword, and some brought baskets of
grapes, but Perseus brought nothing, for he had nothing to bring,
being only a poor sailor lad.
He was ashamed, however, to go into the King's presence without a
gift. So he stood at the door, sorrowfully watching the rich men go
in, and his face grew very red as they pointed at him and smiled and
whispered, "And what has Perseus to give?"
Perseus blushed and stammered, while all the proud men round laughed
and mocked, till the lad grew mad with shame, and hardly knowing what
he said, cried out:
"A present! See if I do not bring a nobler one than all of yours
together!"
"Hear the boaster! What is the present to be?" cried they all,
laughing louder than ever.
Then Perseus remembered his strange dream, and he cried aloud, "The
head of Medusa the Gorgon!"
He was half afraid after he had said the words, for all laughed louder
than ever, and Polydectes loudest of all, while he said:
"You have promised to bring me the Gorgon's head. Then never appear
again in this island without it. Go!"
Perseus saw that he had fallen into a trap, but he went out without a
word.
Down to the cliffs he went, and looked across the broad blue sea, and
wondered if his dream were true.
"Athene, was my dream true? Shall I slay the Gorgon?" he prayed.
"Rashly and angrily I promised, but wisely and patiently will I
perform."
But there was no answer nor sign, not even a cloud in the sky.
Three times Perseus called, weeping, "Rashly and angrily I promised,
but wisely and patiently will I perform."
Then he saw afar off a small white cloud, as bright as silver. And
as it touched the cliffs, it broke and parted, and within it appeared
Athene, and beside her a young man, whose eyes were like sparks of
fire.
And they came swiftly towards Perseus, and he fell down and worshiped,
for he knew they were more than mortal.
But Athene spoke gently to him and bade him have no fear. "Perseus,"
she said, "you have braved Polydectes, and done manfully. Dare you
brave Medusa the Gorgon?"
Perseus answered, "Try me, for since you spoke to me, new courage has
come into my soul."
And Athene said, "Perseus, this deed requires a seven years' journey,
in which you cannot turn back nor escape. If your heart fails, you
must die, and no man will ever find your bones."
And Perseus said, "Tell me, O fair and wise Athene, how I can do but
this one thing, and then, if need be, die."
Then Athene smiled and said, "Be patient and listen. You must go
northward till you find the Three Gray Sisters, who have but one eye
and one tooth amongst them. Ask them the way to the daughters of the
Evening Star, for they will tell you the way to the Gorgon, that you
may slay her. But beware! for her eyes are so terrible that whosoever
looks on them is turned to stone."
"How am I to escape her eyes?" said Perseus; "will she not freeze me
too?"
"You shall take this polished shield," said Athene, "and look, not
at her herself, but at her image in the shield, so you may strike her
safely. And when you have struck off her head, wrap it, with your face
turned away, in the folds of the goat-skin on which the shield hangs.
So you bring it safely back to me and win yourself renown and a place
among heroes."
Then said Perseus, "I will go, though I die in going. But how shall I
cross the seas without a ship? And who will show me the way? And how
shall I slay her, if her scales be iron and brass?"
But the young man who was with Athene spoke, "These sandals of mine
will bear you across the seas, and over hill and dale like a bird, as
they bear me all day long. The sandals themselves will guide you on
the road, for they are divine and cannot stray, and this sword itself
will kill her, for it is divine and needs no second stroke. Arise and
gird them on, and go forth."
So Perseus arose, and girded on the sandals and the sword.
And Athene cried, "Now leap from the cliff and be gone!"
Then Perseus looked down the cliff and shuddered, but he was ashamed
to show his dread, and he leaped into the empty air.
And behold! instead of falling, he floated, and stood, and ran along
the sky.
III
HOW PERSEUS SLEW THE GORGON
So Perseus started on his journey, going dryshod over land and sea,
and his heart was high and joyful, for the sandals bore him each day a
seven days' journey.
And at last by the shore of a freezing sea, beneath the cold winter
moon, he found the Three Gray Sisters. There was no living thing
around them, not a fly, not a moss upon the rocks.
They passed their one eye each to the other, but for all that they
could not see, and they passed the one tooth from one to the other,
but for all that they could not eat, and they sat in the full glare of
the moon, but they were none the warmer for her beams.
And Perseus said, "Tell me, O Venerable Mothers, the path to the
daughters of the Evening Star."
They heard his voice, and then one cried, "Give me the eye that I may
see him," and another, "Give me the tooth that I may bite him," but
they had no answer for his question.
Then Perseus stepped close to them, and watched as they passed the eye
from hand to hand. And as they groped about, he held out his own hand
gently, till one of them put the eye into it, fancying that it was the
hand of her sister.
At that Perseus sprang back and laughed and cried, "Cruel old women,
I have your eye, and I will throw it into the sea, unless you tell me
the path to the daughters of the Evening Star and swear to me that you
tell me right."
Then they wept and chattered and scolded, but all in vain. They were
forced to tell the truth, though when they told it, Perseus could
hardly make out the way. But he gave them back the eye and leaped away
to the southward, leaving the snow and ice behind.
At last he heard sweet voices singing, and he guessed that he was come
to the garden of the daughters of the Evening Star.
When they saw him they trembled and said, "Are you come to rob our
garden and carry off our golden fruit?"
But Perseus answered, "I want none of your golden fruit. Tell me the
way which leads to the Gorgon that I may go on my way and slay her."
"Not yet, not yet, fair boy," they answered, "come dance with us
around the trees in the garden."
"I cannot dance with you, fair maidens, so tell me the way to the
Gorgon, lest I wander and perish in the waves."
Then they sighed and wept, and answered, "The Gorgon! She will freeze
you into stone."
But Perseus said, "The gods have lent me weapons, and will give me
wisdom to use them."
Then the fair maidens told him that the Gorgon lived on an island
far away, but that whoever went near the island must wear the hat of
darkness, so that he could not himself be seen. And one of the fair
maidens held in her hand the magic hat.
While all the maidens kissed Perseus and wept over him, he was only
impatient to be gone. So at last they put the magic hat upon his head,
and he vanished out of their sight.
And Perseus went on boldly, past many an ugly sight, till he heard
the rustle of the Gorgons' wings and saw the glitter of their brazen
claws. Then he knew that it was time to halt, lest Medusa should
freeze him into stone.
He thought awhile with himself and remembered Athene's words. Then he
rose into the air, and held the shield above his head and looked up
into it, that he might see all that was below him.
And he saw three Gorgons sleeping, as huge as elephants. He knew that
they could not see him, because the hat of darkness hid him, and yet
he trembled as he sank down near them, so terrible were those brazen
claws.
Medusa tossed to and fro restlessly in her sleep. Her long neck
gleamed so white in the mirror that Perseus had not the heart to
strike. But as he looked, from among her tresses the vipers' heads
awoke and peeped up, with their bright dry eyes, and showed their
fangs and hissed. And Medusa as she tossed showed her brazen claws,
and Perseus saw that for all her beauty she was as ugly as the others.
Then he came down and stepped to her boldly, and looked steadfastly
on his mirror, and struck with his sword stoutly once, and he did not
need to strike again.
He wrapped the head in the goat-skin, turning away his eyes, and
sprang into the air aloft, faster than he ever sprang before.
And well his brave sandals bore him through cloud and sunshine across
the shoreless sea, till he came again to the gardens of the fair
maidens.
Then he asked them, "By what road shall I go homeward again?"
And they wept and cried, "Go home no more, but stay and play with us,
the lonely maidens."
But Perseus refused and leapt down the mountain, and went on like a
sea-gull, away and out to sea.
IV
HOW PERSEUS MET ANDROMEDA
So Perseus flitted onward to the north-east, over many a league of
sea, till he came to the rolling sandhills of the desert.
Over the sands he went, he never knew how far nor how long, hoping all
day to see the blue sparkling Mediterranean, that he might fly across
it to his home.
But now came down a mighty wind, and swept him back southward toward
the desert. All day long he strove against it, but even the sandals
could not prevail. And when morning came there was nothing to be seen,
save the same old hateful waste of sand.