Favorite Greek Myths (Yesterday's Classics) (15 page)

As Hercules stood trying to make up his mind which road to choose, he saw a young woman coming slowly up the one which led to the city. Her gown was covered with embroidered flowers of all colors, and she wore a wreath of withered roses in her hair.

When she reached the place where Hercules stood, she saw that he was in doubt about the two roads, and eagerly advised him to take the smooth one which led so quickly to the city.

"In that city," said she, "you will find pleasant people, who will freely give you everything that you could possibly wish for. You need not work in the dust nor in the heat of the sun; but you may sit all day in pleasant gardens, where you will hear fountains splashing and birds singing, or where, if you prefer, you may listen to the music of the lyre."

As Hercules looked toward the city, the sound of music came to him, faintly, carried by the fresh morning breeze; and the gardens, with their trees and flowering shrubs, which surrounded each of the houses, looked so cool and inviting that he felt inclined to follow the young woman's advice. Still, something held him back.

Just then, he saw some one standing in the mountain road. This was a young woman too, but she looked very different from the first one. She wore plain white garments, and her eyes were sad, but brave.

"I will tell you the truth, Hercules," she said. "My sister is deceiving you. The pleasant things that they will offer you in that city on the plains below us are either not worth the having, or in the end you must pay a price for them of which you little dream. Do not go to that city, but come up the mountain road with me. The mountain road is hard to climb, and as you go higher, it will grow harder and harder, but you will have delights of which you can never tire. You will get the mountain air into your lungs, and this and the hard climbing will make a man of you. If you have the courage to climb high enough, this mountain road will lead you to Mount Olympus at last, and there you shall live forever with the gods, who cannot die." In his dream Hercules was wise, and chose the mountain road.

Not long after this, the real work of his life began, when he presented himself at the court of King Eurystheus, ready for any task that the king might have for him to do. Hercules, having been born somewhat later than his cousin Eurystheus, the king of Mycenæ, it became his fate to be the slave of this cousin.

There was nothing the Greeks admired more than great bodily strength. Hercules was already remarkable for his broad shoulders, and the large muscles of his arms, while Eurystheus, although a king, had always been weak and sickly.

Therefore, when Hercules stood before him for the first time, King Eurystheus looked at his strong young cousin, and felt his courage sink at the difference between this cousin and himself. Then an angry frown came over his face, and he resolved to set Hercules the hardest and most dangerous tasks that he could possibly contrive.

These tasks which Hercules performed for King Eurystheus became famous in after days, and were called the Twelve Labors of Hercules. Each one was a little harder than the last, and carried Hercules a little farther from home and a little nearer to the unknown western land, till in the twelfth he even reached the gates of Hades, where Pluto reigned.

N
EAR
the sacred grove which surrounded the temple of Jupiter in Nemea, a fierce lion, called the Nemean lion, had its den. This lion was laying waste the country all about the valley of Nemea, and the people of that country lived in constant terror of its ravages. It went out every night, and sometimes by day, and killed hundreds of cattle or sheep, and occasionally took a man or a child, if any were foolhardy enough to come within its reach.

Eurystheus thought it would be an excellent plan to send Hercules to kill the Nemean lion. So he assigned this for his cousin's first task.

Without having any very definite idea of how he was to accomplish the task, the young hero took his bow and arrows, and started out. At the foot of Mount Helicon he found a wild olive tree, one that had grown slowly in stony soil, and was tough of fibre and full of knots. Instead of lopping off a branch for his purpose, as a weaker man might have done, Hercules pulled up this whole tree by the roots, and made a stout club of it. Then he went to the Nemean valley.

Not a herdsman nor a shepherd was in sight of whom he could inquire about the beast; for they were all afraid of it, and kept within doors, leaving their flocks to its mercy.

Hercules watched, near the temple, all day long. Toward night the lion came home to its lair. It looked very fierce and terrible. Its mane was all dashed with blood, and it was licking fresh blood from its chin. Hiding himself among some bushes, Hercules fixed an arrow into his bow. When the lion came near enough, he sent the arrow, singing, straight to its flank, but it glanced away, and fell on the grass. The lion paused in its slow walk, looked to the right and the left, and showed its teeth. Then Hercules shot another arrow, but this one glanced away like the first; for this was no common lion, and its skin was very tough. Hercules was making ready to shoot a third time, when the lion saw him. It lashed its tail, then crouched and sprang. Hercules met it with his club, and broke the club on its head, but stunned it in doing so. Then he seized its neck with both hands, and succeeded in strangling it, as he had strangled the snakes, when he was only a baby, in his shield-cradle. So ended the first of the twelve labors of Hercules.

When Hercules went back to King Eurystheus, he wore the skin of the Nemean lion over his shoulders, with the head of the beast resting on his own head like a kind of helmet. Eurystheus would hardly have been more frightened if he had suddenly seen the Nemean lion itself walking into his palace.

Hercules soon made himself another club, and after this he was seldom seen without both his club and his lion's skin.

T
HE
second labor that King Eurystheus planned for Hercules, made the slaying of a lion seem like child's play; for Hercules, having proved himself to be so brave and strong, the king sent him to kill the Lernean hydra.

This was a water-snake with nine heads, of which one was immortal, and therefore could not possibly be killed. It was so very poisonous that even the air from the marshes which it haunted often killed people. Its den was near the Fountain of Amymone. This prevented the peasants who lived in that region from making use of the water of the fountain. As the summers were long and dry in Argolis, and the springs and fountains few, this, too, was a very serious matter.

The twin-brother of Hercules had a son, named Iolaus. When Hercules went to kill the Lernean hydra, he took Iolaus with him, that the boy might learn the ways of hunters.

After a long, dusty walk over the country road Hercules and Iolaus reached the Fountain of Amymone; and there, the first thing that they saw, was the hydra, stretching its nine heads out of its den, and hissing an angry warning with every head.

A few arrows sent buzzing against it brought the snake out into the marsh, and then Hercules set to work cutting off its heads with his sword. But for every head he cut off, two new ones grew, and the new heads began hissing and biting even more fiercely than the heads that had been cut off. Then, while the fight was going on, a crab came out and seized Hercules by the heel. This was altogether too much to contend with. Hercules saw that he must try a different plan. So he called to Iolaus to set fire to a grove of young trees that grew near the swamp, and to keep him supplied with burning brands. Iolaus did so.

Then Hercules, as he cut off a head, burned it up, until only one was left. This one, being the immortal head, would not burn. Hercules had cut it off, but as it lay in the grass, it spit venom more fiercely than ever. So Hercules rolled a huge rock over it, and thus prevented it from doing any more harm.

The fight being over, Hercules dipped his arrows in the poison of the hydra, which made them very dangerous weapons, and very unsafe ones to handle. The time came when he had reason to regret having meddled with this terrible poison.

K
ING
E
URYSTHEUS
next sent Hercules to catch a wild boar that lived on Mount Erymanthus. Eurystheus told Hercules to catch the boar and bring it to Mycenæ alive; for he began to think that Hercules would succeed in killing almost any dangerous beast, but knew that the task of taking such a creature alive would be a much harder one.

Mount Erymanthus was in Arcadia. This was the first time that the labors of Hercules had taken him out of Argolis.

On his way to Mount Erymanthus, Hercules paid a visit to his friend Pholo, the centaur, who lived in a cave on that mountain. In Pholo's cave was a large vase of very choice wine. It did not belong to Pholo, alone, but was the common property of all the centaurs that lived on the mountain. It was the gift of the wine-god, Bacchus, who had told Pholo not to open it until Hercules should come to his cave. Now that Hercules had come, Pholo thought it right to open the wine-vase, without consulting the other centaurs. But the centaurs were a very rough, wild race of beings, and when they smelled the wine, which was so strong that its fumes spread all through the forest, they armed themselves with pine branches, rocks, torches, axes—whatever they could pick up most quickly—and came rushing into Pholo's cave. Seeing Hercules, and not knowing who he was or why he was there, they attacked him without waiting for any explanation.

Hercules had his quiver full of poisoned arrows, and was obliged to use them in self-defence. He succeeded in driving the centaurs away; but after they were gone, the friendly centaur, Pholo, picked up one of the arrows, and while he was looking at it curiously, let it slip from his hand and drop on his foot. The wound it made was as bad as a snake bite, and poor Pholo soon died. This was the first time that Hercules wished he had not dipped his arrows in the poison of the hydra, but it was not the last.

After this, Hercules went on up the mountain, caught the Erymanthian boar, and brought it back on his shoulders to Mycenæ, alive.

Eurystheus was watching. When he saw Hercules coming over the plains, with the boar on his shoulders, he was badly frightened, and ran into his palace and hid himself. Just inside the palace doors stood a large bronze pot, with a cover. In his haste, Eurystheus jumped into this, and pulled the cover down over his head.

But he was not quite quick enough. Hercules came into the palace just then and caught a glimpse of Eurystheus just as the cover of the bronze pot was closing over him. Hercules pretended to see nothing, however; but remarking gravely to some nobles who were standing about, that the bronze pot would surely be the safest place in which to keep the boar, he quickly lifted the cover and popped it in.

You might think that this would be the end of King Eurystheus and his hard tasks. But, on the contrary, the king suffered no harm from his strange fellow-prisoner, who cowered down in the dark as frightened as the king himself.

This was the end of the third labor.

A
FTER
King Eurystheus had been pulled out of the bronze pot, and was seated upon his throne again, he set his wits to work to think of something really hard for Hercules to do.

In the great forests which lay on the borders of Arcadia roamed a very fleet stag. This stag had often befooled the hunters of that region. Very few had ever really seen it, and many people, perhaps King Eurystheus himself, believed that it lived only in hunters' stories. If these stories were to be believed, it had horns of gold and hoofs of brass; could take the most wonderful leaps; and was never tired, no matter how long the dogs had been chasing it. It had been seen browsing, oftener than anywhere else, close to the steps of Diana's temple; and many people believed that it was under her protection.

For the fourth labor, Eurystheus told Hercules to catch this stag and bring it back alive.

So Hercules went to the Arcadian forests, and hiding himself in the undergrowth, watched all the paths near the temple of Diana. It was tiresome watching. Flies stung him; bright-eyed lizards ran over his feet; and a little owl came and hooted among the shadows of the temple. At last he saw the golden-antlered stag, and the sight of it was worth his long watch. He had never seen a more beautiful animal. It had great soft eyes, and its golden antlers seemed like a wonderful crown.

Hercules knew that he might never get another sight of this elusive creature, so as soon as he saw it, he darted out of his hiding-place and began the chase.

The stag led him through the forest and over the hills, across great rivers, and beyond the borders of Arcadia. Still it kept on, never tiring, and Hercules followed close behind it. The stag had never been pursued before by a foe that showed such endurance. On and on it went, with Hercules coming after, till the chase had lasted a whole year, when it began to show signs of fatigue.

It had led Hercules over nearly the whole of Europe, in a great circle, and now it brought him back to Diana's temple again. Panting and exhausted, it ran into the temple. Hercules followed, and would have caught it even in that spot, which was sacred to Diana, but just then the moon burst out from a dark cloud, and, looking up, Hercules suddenly saw Diana herself standing before him. She looked very tall, and her crown was like the new moon. At her feet crouched the stag, trembling. Diana said to Hercules: "You must not lay hands on this stag, as it belongs to me; but go back to King Eurystheus and merely tell him all that has happened, and he will consider that your fourth labor is accomplished."