Part 9 (1/2)

”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 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 maidens looked at his ma.s.sive club, and at the s.h.a.ggy 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!”

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 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 gra.s.s 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 s.h.i.+eld.

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 ill.u.s.trious 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 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-sh.o.r.e, 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 to this Old Man of the Sea. He is a seafaring 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; 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.”