Part 5 (2/2)

But the boy was not listening.

”Jugglers! Jugglers!” he cried.

And there they were at the side of the road, showing their tricks and begging for coins. One man was walking on his hands and tossing a ball about with his feet. Another was swallowing a sword.

”Stop, Glaucon!” cried Charmides, ”I must see him. He will kill himself.”

”No, my little master,” replied the slave. ”You shall see him again at Olympia. See your father. He would be vexed if we waited.”

And there was the master ahead, pus.h.i.+ng forward rapidly, looking neither to the right hand nor the left. The boy sighed.

”He is hurrying to see Creon. He forgets me!” he thought.

But immediately his eyes were caught by some new thing, and his face was gay again. So the little company traveled up the sloping road amid interesting sights. For here were people from all the corners of the known world--Greeks from Asia in trailing robes, Arabs in white turbans, black men from Egypt, kings from Sicily, Persians with their curled beards, half civilized men from the north in garments of skin. ”See!”

said Glaucon at last as they reached a hilltop, ”the temple!”

He pointed ahead. There shone the tip of the roof and its gold ornament.

Hovering above was a marble statue with spread wings.

”And there is Victory!” whispered Charmides. ”She is waiting for Creon.

She will never wait for me,” and he sighed.

The crowd broke into a shout when they saw the temple. A company of young men flew by, singing a song. Charmides pa.s.sed a sick man. The slaves had set down his litter, and he had stretched out his hands toward the temple and was praying. For the sick were sometimes cured by a visit to Olympia. The boy's father had struck his heels into his horse's sides and was galloping forward, calling to his followers to hasten.

In a few moments they reached higher land. Then they saw the sacred place spread out before them. There was the wall all around it. Inside it shone a few buildings and a thousand statues. Along one side stretched a row of little marble treasure houses. At the far corner lay the stadion with its rows of stone seats. Nearer and outside the wall was the gymnasium. Even from a distance Charmides could see men running about in the court.

”There are the athletes!” he thought. ”Creon is with them.”

Behind all these buildings rose a great hill, dark green with trees.

Down from the hill poured a little stream. It met a wide river that wound far through the valley. In the angle of these rivers lay Olympia.

The temple and walls and gymnasium were all of stone and looked as though they had been there forever. But in the meadow all around the sacred place was a city of winged tents. There were little shapeless ones of skins lying over sticks. There were round huts woven of rushes.

There were sheds of poles with green boughs laid upon them. There were tall tents of gaily striped canvas. Farther off were horses tethered.

And everywhere were gaily robed men moving about. Menon, Charmides'

father, looking ahead from the high place, turned to a slave.

”Run on quickly,” he said. ”Save a camping place for us there on Mount Kronion, under the trees.”

The man was off. Menon spoke to the other servants. ”Push forward and make camp. I will visit the gymnasium. Come, Charmides, we will go to see Creon.”

<script>