the seashore, and with them went Odysseus. They carried the treasures
that had been given to him and put them on board, and spread a rug on
the deck for him. There Odysseus lay down, and as soon as the splash
of the oars in the water and the rush and gush of the water from the
bow of the boat told him that the ship was sailing speedily to his
dear land of Ithaca, he fell into a sound sleep. Onward went the ship,
so swiftly that not even a hawk flying after its prey could have kept
pace with her. When the bright morning stars arose, they were close to
Ithaca. The sailors quickly ran their vessel ashore and gently carried
the sleeping Odysseus, wrapped round in his rug of bright purple, to
where a great olive-tree bent its gray leaves over the sand. They laid
him under the tree, put his treasures beside him, and left him, still
heavy with slumber. Then they climbed into their ship and sailed away.
While Odysseus slept the goddess Athene shed a thick mist round him.
When he awoke, the sheltering heavens, the long paths, and the trees
in bloom all looked strange to him when seen through the grayness of
the mist.
"Woe is me!" he groaned. "The Phæacians promised to bring me to
Ithaca, but they have brought me to a land of strangers, who will
surely attack me and steal my treasures."
But while he was wondering what he should do, the goddess Athene came
to him. She was tall and fair and noble to look upon, and she smiled
upon Odysseus with her kind gray eyes.
Under the olive-tree she sat down beside him, and told him all that
had happened in Ithaca while he was away, and all that he must do to
win back his kingdom and his Queen.
THE ARGONAUTS
ADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR
I
HOW THE CENTAUR TRAINED THE HEROES
Now I have a tale to tell of heroes who sailed away into a distant
land, to win themselves renown for ever in the adventures of the
Golden Fleece.
And what was the Golden Fleece?
It was the fleece of the wondrous ram who bore a boy called Phrixus
and a girl called Helle across the sea; and the old Greeks said that
it hung nailed to a beech-tree in the War-god's wood.
For when a famine came upon the land, their cruel stepmother wished to
kill Phrixus and Helle, that her own children might reign.
She said Phrixus and Helle must be sacrificed on an altar, to turn
away the anger of the gods, who sent the famine.
So the poor children were brought to the altar, and the priest stood
ready with his knife, when out of the clouds came the Golden Ram, and
took them on his back and vanished.
And the ram carried the two children far away, over land and sea,
till at a narrow strait Helle fell off into the sea, and those narrow
straits are called "Hellespont" after her, and they bear that name
until this day.
Then the ram flew on with Phrixus to the northeast, across the sea
which we call the Black Sea, and at last he stopped at Colchis, on the
steep sea-coast.
And Phrixus married the King's daughter there, and offered the ram in
sacrifice, and then it was that the ram's fleece was nailed to a beech
in the wood of the War-god.
After a while Phrixus died, but his spirit had no rest, for he was
buried far from his native land and the pleasant hills of Hellas.
So he came in dreams to the heroes of his country, and called sadly
by their beds, "Come and set my spirit free, that I may go home to my
fathers and to my kinsfolk."
And they asked, "How shall we set your spirit free?"
"You must sail over the sea to Colchis, and bring home the Golden
Fleece. Then my spirit will come back with it, and I shall sleep with
my fathers and have rest."
He came thus, and called to them often, but when they woke they looked
at each other and said, "Who dare sail to Colchis or bring home the
Golden Fleece?"
And in all the country none was brave enough to try, for the man and
the time were not come.
Now Phrixus had a cousin called Æson, who was King in Iolcos by the
sea. And a fierce and lawless stepbrother drove Æson out of Iolcos by
the sea, and took the kingdom to himself and ruled over it.
When Æson was driven out, he went sadly away out of the town, leading
his little son by the hand. And he said to himself, "I must hide the
child in the mountains, or my stepbrother will surely kill him because
he is the heir."
So he went up from the sea, across the valley, through the vineyards
and the olive groves, and across the river, toward Pelion, the ancient
mountain, whose brows are white with snow.
He went up and up into the mountain, over marsh, and crag, and down,
till the boy was tired and footsore, and Æson had to bear him in his
arms till he came to the mouth of a lonely cave, at the foot of a
mighty cliff.
Above the cliff the snow-wreaths hung, dripping and cracking in the
sun. But at its foot, around the cave's mouth, grew all fair flowers
and herbs, as if in a garden. There they grew gaily in the sunshine
and in the spray of the torrent from above, while from the cave came
the sound of music, and a man's voice singing to the harp.
Then Æson put down the lad, and whispered, "Fear not, but go in, and
whomsoever you shall find, lay your hands upon his knees and say, 'In
the name of Zeus, the father of gods and men, I am your guest from
this day forth.'"
So the lad went in without trembling, for he too was a hero's son, but
when he was within, he stopped in wonder to listen to that magic song.
And there he saw the singer, lying upon bear-skins and fragrant
boughs, Cheiron the ancient Centaur, the wisest of all beneath the
sky.
Down to the waist he was a man, but below he was a noble horse. His
white hair rolled down over his broad shoulders, and his white beard
over his broad brown chest. His eyes were wise and mild, and his
forehead like a mountain-wall. In his hands he held a harp of gold,
and he struck it with a golden key. And as he struck, he sang till his
eyes glittered and filled all the cave with light.
As he sang the boy listened wide-eyed, and forgot his errand in the
song. At the last old Cheiron was silent, and called the lad with a
soft voice.
And the lad ran trembling to him, and would have laid his hands upon
his knees.
But Cheiron smiled, and drew the lad to him, and laid his hand upon
his golden locks, and said, "Are you afraid of my horse's hoofs, fair
boy, or will you be my pupil from this day?"
"I would gladly have horse's hoofs like you, if I could sing such
songs as yours," said the lad.
And Cheiron laughed and said, "Sit here till sundown, when your
playfellows will come home, and you shall learn like them to be a
king, worthy to rule over gallant men."
Then he turned to Æson, who had followed his son into the cave, and
said, "Go back in peace. This boy shall not cross the river again till
he has become a glory to you and to your house."
And Æson wept over his son and went away, but the boy did not weep, so
full was his fancy of that strange cave, and the Centaur and his song,
and the playfellows whom he was to see.
Then Cheiron put the lyre into his hands, and taught him how to play
it, till the sun sank low behind the cliff, and a shout was heard
outside.
And then in came the sons of the heroes, and great Cheiron leapt up
joyfully, and his hoofs made the cave resound as the lads shouted,
"Come out, Father Cheiron, and see our game!"
One cried, "I have killed two deer," and another, "I took a wild cat
among the crags," and another shouted, "I have dragged a wild goat by
its horns," and another carried under each arm a bear-cub. And Cheiron
praised them all, each as he deserved.
Then the lads brought in wood and split it, and lighted a blazing
fire. Others skinned the deer and quartered them, and set them to
roast before the flames.
While the venison was cooking, they bathed in the snow-torrent and
washed away the dust.
And then all ate till they could eat no more, for they had tasted
nothing since the dawn, and drank of the clear spring water, for wine
is not fit for growing lads.
When the remnants of the meal were put away, they all lay down upon
the skins and leaves about the fire, and each took the lyre in turn,
and sang and played with all his heart.
After a while they all went out to a plot of grass at the cave's
mouth, and there they boxed and ran and wrestled and laughed till the
stones fell from the cliffs.
Then Cheiron took his lyre, and all the lads joined hands, and as he
played they danced to his measure, in and out and round and round.
There they danced hand in hand, till the night fell over land and sea,
while the black glen shone with the gleam of their golden hair.
And the lad danced with them, delighted, and then slept a wholesome
sleep, upon fragrant leaves of bay and myrtle and flowers of thyme.
He rose at the dawn and bathed in the torrent, and became a
schoolfellow to the heroes' sons, and forgot Iolcos by the sea, and
his father and all his former life.
But he grew strong and brave and cunning, upon the pleasant downs of
Pelion, in the keen, hungry mountain-air.
And he learned to wrestle, to box and to hunt, and to play upon the
harp. Next he learned to ride, for old Cheiron used to mount him on
his back. He learned too the virtue of all herbs, and how to cure all
wounds, and Cheiron called him Jason the Healer, and that is his name
until this day.
II
HOW JASON LOST HIS SANDAL
And ten years came and went, and Jason was grown to be a mighty man.
Now it happened one day that Jason stood on the mountain, and looked
north and south and east and west. And Cheiron stood by him and
watched him, for he knew that the time was come.
When Jason looked south, he saw a pleasant land, with white-walled
towns and farms nestling along the shore of a land-locked bay, while
the smoke rose blue among the trees, and he knew it for Iolcos by the
sea.
Then he sighed and asked, "Is it true what the heroes tell me--that I
am heir of that fair land?"
"And what good would it be to you, Jason, if you were heir of that
fair land?"
"I would take it and keep it."
"A strong man has taken it and kept it long. Are you stronger than
your uncle Pelias the Terrible?"
"I can try my strength with his," said Jason.
But Cheiron sighed and said, "You have many a danger to go through
before you rule in Iolcos by the sea, many a danger and many a woe,
and strange troubles in strange lands, such as man never saw before."
"The happier I," said Jason, "to see what man never saw before!"
Cheiron sighed and said, "Will you go to Iolcos by the sea? Then
promise me two things before you go! Speak harshly to no soul whom you
may meet, and stand by the word which you shall speak."
Jason promised. Then he leapt down the mountain, to take his fortune
like a man.
He went down through the thickets and across the downs of thyme, till
he came to the vineyard walls, and the olives in the glen. And among
the olives roared the river, foaming with a summer flood.
And on the bank of the river sat a woman, all wrinkled, gray and old.
Her head shook with old age, and her hands shook on her knees.
When she saw Jason, she spoke, whining, "Who will carry me across the
flood?"
But Jason, heeding her not, went towards the waters. Yet he thought
twice before he leapt, so loud roared the torrent all brown from the
mountain rains.
The old woman whined again, "I am weak and old, fair youth. For Hera's
sake, the Queen of the Immortals, carry me over the torrent."
Jason was going to answer her scornfully, when Cheiron's words, "Speak
harshly to no soul whom you may meet," came to his mind.
So he said, "For Hera's sake, the Queen of the Immortals, I will carry
you over the torrent, unless we both are drowned midway."
Then the old dame leapt upon his back as nimbly as a goat. Jason
staggered in, wondering, and the first step was up to his knees.
The first step was up to his knees, and the second step was up to his
waist. The stones rolled about his feet, and his feet slipped about
the stones. So he went on, staggering and panting, while the old woman
cried upon his back, "Fool, you have wet my mantle! Do you mock at
poor old souls like me?"
Jason had half a mind to drop her and let her get through the torrent
alone, but Cheiron's words were in his mind, and he said only,
"Patience, mother, the best horse may stumble some day."
At last he staggered to the shore and set her down upon the bank. He
lay himself panting awhile, and then leapt up to go upon his journey,
but he first cast one look at the old woman, for he thought, "She
should thank me once at least."
And as he looked, she grew fairer than all women and taller than all
men on earth.
Her garments shone like the summer sea, and her jewels like the stars
of heaven. And she looked down on him with great soft eyes, with great
eyes, mild and awful, which filled all the glen with light. Jason fell
upon his knees and hid his face between his hands.
And she spoke: "I am Hera, the Queen of Olympus. As thou hast done to
me, so will I do to thee. Call on me in the hour of need, and try if
the Immortals can forget!"
When Jason looked up, she rose from off the earth, like a pillar of
tall white cloud, and floated away across the mountain peaks, towards
Olympus, the holy hill.
Then a great fear fell on Jason, but after a while he grew light
of heart. He blessed old Cheiron and said, "Surely the Centaur is a
prophet and knew what would come to pass when he bade me speak harshly
to no soul whom I might meet."
Then he went down towards Iolcos, and as he walked he found that he
had lost one of his sandals in the flood.
And as he went through the streets the people came out to look at him,
so tall and fair he was. But some of the elders whispered together,
and at last one of them stopped Jason and called to him, "Fair lad,
who are you and whence come you, and what is your errand in the town?"
"My name, good father, is Jason, and I come from Pelion up above. My
errand is to Pelias your King. Tell me, then, where his palace is."
But the old man said, "I will tell you, lest you rush upon your ruin
unawares. The oracle has said that a man wearing one sandal should
take the kingdom from Pelias and keep it for himself. Therefore beware
how you go up to his palace, for he is fiercest and most cunning of
all kings." Jason laughed a great laugh in his pride. "Good news, good
father, both for you and me. For that very end, to take his kingdom, I
came into the town."
Then he strode on toward the palace of Pelias his uncle, while all
the people wondered at the stranger. And he stood in the doorway and
cried, "Come out, come out, Pelias the Valiant, and fight for your
kingdom like a man."
Pelias came out, wondering. "Who are you, bold youth?" he cried.
"I am Jason, the son of Æson, the heir of all the land."
Then Pelias lifted up his hands and eyes and wept, or seemed to weep,
and blessed the gods who had brought his nephew to him, never to leave
him more. "For," said he, "I have but three daughters, and no son
to be my heir. You shall marry whichsoever of my daughters you shall
choose. But come, come in and feast."
So he drew Jason in and spoke to him so lovingly, and feasted him so
well, that Jason's anger passed.
When supper was ended his three cousins came into the hall, and Jason
thought he would like well to have one of them for his wife.
But soon he looked at Pelias, and when he saw that he still wept, he
said, "Why do you look so sad, my uncle?"
Then Pelias sighed heavily again and again, like a man who had to tell
some dreadful story, and was afraid to begin.
At last he said, "For seven long years and more have I never known a
quiet night, and no more will he who comes after me, till the Golden
Fleece be brought home."
Then he told Jason the story of Phrixus and of the Golden Fleece, and
told him what was a lie, that Phrixus' spirit tormented him day and
night. And his daughters came and told the same tale, and wept and
said, "Oh, who will bring home the Golden Fleece, that the spirit
of Phrixus may rest, and that we may rest also, for he never lets us
sleep in peace?"
Jason sat awhile, sad and silent, for he had often heard of that
Golden Fleece, but he looked on it as a thing hopeless and impossible
for any mortal man to win.
When Pelias saw him silent he began to talk of other things. "One
thing there is," said Pelias, "on which I need your advice, for,
though you are young, I see in you a wisdom beyond your years. There
is one neighbor of mine whom I dread more than all men on earth. I am
stronger than he now and can command him, but I know that if he stay
among us, he will work my ruin in the end. Can you give me a plan,
Jason, by which I can rid myself of that man?"
After a while, Jason answered half-laughing, "Were I you, I would send
him to fetch that same Golden Fleece, for if he once set forth after
it, you would never be troubled with him more."
At that a little smile came across the lips of Pelias, and a flash of
wicked joy into his eyes. Jason saw it and started, and he remembered
the warning of the old man, and his own one sandal and the oracle, and
he saw that he was taken in a trap.
But Pelias only answered gently, "My son, he shall be sent forthwith."
"You mean me!" cried Jason, starting up, "because I came here with one
sandal," and he lifted his fist angrily, while Pelias stood up to
him like a wolf at bay. Whether of the two was the stronger and the
fiercer it would be hard to tell.
But after a moment Pelias spoke gently, "Why so rash, my son? I have
not harmed you. You will go, and that gladly, for you have a hero's
heart within you, and the love of glory."
Jason knew that he was entrapped, but he cried aloud, "You have well
spoken, cunning uncle of mine, I love glory. I will go and fetch the
Golden Fleece. Promise me but this in return, and keep your word as I
keep mine. Treat my father lovingly while I am gone, for the sake of
the all-seeing Zeus, and give me up the kingdom for my own on the day
that I bring back the Golden Fleece."
Then Pelias looked at him and almost loved him, in the midst of all
his hate, and he said, "I promise, and I will perform. It will be no
shame to give up my kingdom to the man who wins that fleece."
So they both went and lay down to sleep. But Jason could not sleep for
thinking how he was to win the Golden Fleece. Sometimes Phrixus seemed
to call him in a thin voice, faint and low, as if it came from far
across the sea. Sometimes he seemed to see the eyes of Hera, and to
hear her words again, "Call on me in the hour of need, and see if the
Immortals can forget."
On the morrow Jason went to Pelias and said, "Give me a lamb, that
I may sacrifice to Hera." And as he stood by the altar Hera sent a
thought into his mind. And he went back to Pelias and said, "If you
are indeed in earnest, give me two heralds that they may go round to
all the Princes, who were pupils of the Centaur with me. Then together
we will fit out a ship, and take what shall befall."
At that Pelias praised his wisdom and hastened to send the heralds
out, for he said in his heart, "Let all the Princes go with Jason,
and, like him, never return, so shall I be lord of the land and the
greatest king in Hellas."
III
HOW THEY BUILT THE SHIP ARGO
So the heralds went out and cried to all the heroes, "Who dare come to
the adventures of the Golden Fleece?"
And Hera stirred the hearts of all the Princes, and they came from all
their valleys to the yellow sand of Iolcos by the sea.
All the city came out to meet them, and the men were never tired with
looking at their heights and their beauty and the glitter of their
arms.
But the women sighed over them and whispered, "Alas, they are all
going to their death!"
Then the heroes felled the mountain pines and shaped them with the
axe, and Argus the famed shipbuilder taught them to build a galley,
the first long ship which ever sailed the seas. They named her Argo,
after Argus the shipbuilder, and worked at her all day long.
But Jason went away into a far-off land, till he found Orpheus the
prince of minstrels, where he dwelt in his cave.
And he asked him, "Will you leave your mountains, Orpheus, my
playfellow in old times, and sail with the heroes to bring home the
Golden Fleece? And will you charm for us all men and all monsters with
your magic harp and song?"
Then Orpheus sighed, "Have I not had enough of toil and of weary
wandering far and wide, since I lived in Cheiron's cave, above Iolcos
by the sea? And now must I go out again, to the ends of all the
earth, far away into the misty darkness? But a friend's demand must be
obeyed."
So Orpheus rose up sighing, and took his harp. He led Jason to the
holy oak, and he bade him cut down a bough and sacrifice to Hera. And
they took the bough and came to Iolcos, and nailed it to the prow of
the ship.
And at last the ship was finished, and they tried to launch her down
the beach; but she was too heavy for them to move her, and her keel
sank deep into the sand.
Then all the heroes looked at each other blushing, but Jason spoke
and said, "Let us ask the magic bough; perhaps it can help us in our
need."
And a voice came from the bough, and Jason heard the words it said,
and bade Orpheus play upon the harp, while the heroes waited round,
holding the pine-trunk rollers to help the Argo toward the sea.
Then Orpheus took his harp and began his magic song. And the good ship
Argo heard him and longed to be away and out at sea, till she stirred
in every timber, and heaved from stem to stern, and leapt up from the
sand upon the rollers, and plunged onward like a gallant horse till
she rushed into the whispering sea.
And they stored her well with food and water, and settled themselves
each man to his oar, keeping time to the harp of Orpheus.
Then away across the bay they rowed southward, while the people lined
the cliffs. But the women wept while the men shouted at the starting
of that gallant crew.
IV
HOW THE ARGONAUTS WON THE GOLDEN FLEECE
The heroes rowed across the bay, and while they waited there for a
southwest wind, they chose themselves a captain from their crew. And
some called for the strongest and hugest to be their captain, but more
called for Jason, because he was the wisest of them all.
So Jason was chosen captain, and each hero vowed to stand by him
faithfully in the adventure of the Golden Fleece.
They sailed onward and northward to Pelion. And their hearts yearned
for the dear old mountain, as they thought of the days gone by, of the
sports of their boyhood, and their hunting, and their lessons in the
cave beneath the cliff. Then at last they said, "Let us land here and
climb the dear old hill once more. We are going on a fearful journey.
Who knows if we shall see Pelion again? Let us go up to Cheiron our
master, and ask his blessing ere we start."
So the helmsman steered them to the shore, under the crags of Pelion,
and they went up through the dark pine-forests toward the Centaur's
cave.
Then, as Cheiron saw them, he leapt up and welcomed them every one,
and set a feast of venison before them. And after supper all the
heroes clapped their hands and called on Orpheus to sing, but he
refused, and said, "How can I, who am the younger, sing before our
ancient host?"
So they called on Cheiron to sing. And he sang of heroes who fought
with fists and teeth, and how they tore up the pine-trees in their
fury, and hurled great crags of stone, while the mountains thundered
with the battle, and the land was wasted far and wide.
And the heroes praised his song right heartily, for some of them had
helped in that great fight.
Then Orpheus took the lyre and sang of the making of the wondrous
world. And as he sang, his voice rose from the cave above the crags,
and through the tree-tops. The trees bowed their heads when they heard
it, and the forest beasts crept close to listen, and the birds forsook
their nests and hovered near. And old Cheiron clapped his hands
together and beat his hoofs upon the ground, for wonder at that magic
song.
Now the heroes came down to the ship, and Cheiron came down with
them, weeping, and kissed them one by one, and promised to them great
renown.
And the heroes wept when they left him, till their great hearts could
weep no more, for he was kind and just, and wiser than all beasts and
men.
Then Cheiron went up to a cliff and prayed for them, that they might
come home safe and well, while the heroes rowed away and watched
him standing on his cliff above the sea, with his great hands raised
toward heaven, and his white locks waving in the wind. They strained
their eyes to watch him to the last, for they felt that they should
look on him no more.
So they rowed on over the long swell of the sea eastward, and out into
the open sea which we now call the Black Sea.
All feared that dreadful sea, and its rocks and fogs and bitter
storms, and the heroes trembled for all their courage, as they came
into that wild Black Sea, and saw it stretching out before them,
without a shore, as far as eye could see.
Then Orpheus spoke and warned them that they must come now to the
wandering blue rocks.
Soon they saw them, and their blue peaks shone like spires and castles
of gray glass, while an ice-cold wind blew from them and chilled all
the heroes' hearts.
As they neared them, they could see the rocks heaving, as they rolled
upon the long sea-waves, crashing and grinding together, till the roar
went up to heaven.
The heroes' hearts sank within them, and they lay upon their oars in
fear, but Orpheus called to the helmsman, "Between the blue rocks we
must pass, so look for an opening, and be brave, for Hera is with us."