Favorite Greek Myths (Yesterday's Classics) (12 page)

Catch Pegasus! Bellerophon saw that it was of no use to try, and gave it up. Then he lay down and slept on the soft grass of the meadow.

But people who slept near the Fountain of Hippocrene were apt to dream. While Bellerophon slept, he dreamed that Minerva stood at his side with a golden bridle in her hand. In the dream she gave him the bridle, and then Pegasus came up to him, and bent his beautiful head to have it put on.

He woke in the morning with the first sunbeams shining in his face, and found the golden bridle of his dream in his hands. The head-piece was set with jewels, and the whole bridle was so gorgeous that it seemed fit, even for so wonderful a horse as Pegasus.

Bellerophon did not go down to the town that day, but stayed on Mount Helicon, and lived on berries and sweet acorns. When night came, he again waited by the fountain for Pegasus.

With a light heart, he went to his usual place, where he was screened by the bushes. He had hardly seated himself before he saw a faint white speck in the sky, which grew larger and larger, and soon took the shape of a winged horse.

As the beautiful creature descended lower, he began to fly in great circles, as you have seen a hawk fly. But his shining white wings were more like the wings of an albatross than like those of any other bird we know. He came lower, and lower, till his feet touched the meadow; and then he cantered up to Bellerophon, and held down his head for the jewelled bridle, just as he had done in Bellerophon's dream. A moment more, and the bridle was over his head.

A more gentle horse than Pegasus never lived, nor one fonder of his rider. He seemed willing to take the owner of the bridle for his master, and was obedient to the slightest touch of the rein. It was wonderful when he tried his wings. Up above the clouds he soared, with Bellerophon on his back. Who need fear the Chimæra now?

This Chimæra was a frightful monster with three heads—the head of a lion, the head of a goat, and the head of a snake. Its body was something like the shaggy body of a goat in the middle, but ended in a dragon's tail. When the creature was roused, it could belch out fire and smoke from its three cavernous throats. Nearly the whole of the mountainous country it inhabited was a waste of ashes. The few people who had not lost their lives, nor left their homes and their flocks, but still inhabited that region, lived in constant terror of this creature. So if one brave enough and strong enough could be found, there was need of a hero to slay the Chimera.

When Bellerophon felt that he had perfect control of Pegasus, he guided him straight toward the mountains of the Chimæra. Pegasus, with all his wonderful power of flight, sped through the air like an arrow, and in a very short time was hovering over the cruel monster, which lay sprawling in the midst of the waste it had caused.

Obedient to Bellerophon's wish, Pegasus swooped straight down to within striking distance of the Chimera. Then, a flash from Bellerophon's lance, and the goat's head hung limp. What a roar followed from the lion's head! All the air became filled with the sickening odor, and it began to grow dark with smoke. But Bellerophon and Pegasus were safe, high above the earth.

They waited till the monster was quiet again, then made another quick dash, and off went the lion's head. There was no roaring this time, and not so much fire and smoke, although the angry writhing of the creature was terrible to see. But the Chimæra could not follow Pegasus into the pure upper air. Once more horse and rider dashed down, and the snake's head was severed from the Chimæra's body. Then the terrible fires burned themselves out, and that was the end of the Chimæra.

The people of that country soon learned that the Chimæra was dead, and came back to their homes. Not long after, the hills, that had been so gray and desolate, were covered with vineyards and growing crops.

After this, Bellerophon, with the help of Pegasus, performed other wonderful feats, and became very famous. He married a king's daughter, and received half of her father's kingdom.

At last he felt as if, mounted on Pegasus, he was as strong as the gods themselves, and might ascend to Olympus. One day he was foolish enough to make the attempt. Then Jupiter caused Pegasus to throw him. Blinded by the near sight of Olympus, and lamed by the fall, he wandered about, for many years, an unhappy, helpless old man.

The time came when the gods took Pegasus up to Mount Olympus, and let us hope that Bellerophon, too, reached Olympus at last.

E
VERY
day, when Helios drove his wonderful horses and his fiery chariot across the sky, it was Aurora who opened the gates of pearl and drew back the dark curtains of the night; for Aurora was the goddess of the dawn. She was so beautiful that the whole sky flushed pink with pleasure when she appeared in the east.

On the earth lived a mortal called Tithonus, who loved Aurora so well that he never failed to leave his bed while it was still dark, to watch for her coming. Aurora loved Tithonus in return, and one day she flew to the king of the gods, and begged of him that Tithonus might be given a draught of nectar, and so become immortal.

Jupiter granted this request, and Aurora took Tithonus up to Mount Olympus to live in her golden house.

The goddess had forgotten to ask that Tithonus might never grow old. Therefore, the time came when gray hairs could be seen among his golden curls. Aurora was kind to him in spite of this, and continued to give him beautiful garments, and to feed him on ambrosia. Still, Tithonus grew older and older, and in time, after several hundred years, he was so very old that he could not move at all. Little was left of him but his voice, and even that had grown high and thin. Then he withered away so much that he had to be shut up in a room, for safe-keeping. Aurora felt so sorry to see him withering away in this manner that she changed him into a little insect, and sent him down to the earth again, where men called him the grasshopper.

Very glad to be free and active once more, Tithonus hopped about in the fields all day, chirping cheerfully to Aurora.

L
ONG,
long after the days of Bellerophon, a certain goatherd, called Comatas, used to feed his goats on the lower slopes of Mount Helicon.

While watching the goats, he would lie under the pine trees, and play on his shepherd's pipe. Sometimes, when the nights were warm, instead of driving his goats home to the fold, he used to stay on the mountain with them, during the night as well as the day. He had once seen the Muses dancing round the Fountain of Hippocrene, in the moonlight.

Not far from the fountain was a small altar which belonged to the Muses. Comatas thought he should like to bring some gift to it; but he was a slave, and had not a thing in the world which he could call his own. As he spent his life in the care of the goats, he felt that they must belong to him, in part. So, one day, he took a kid from the flock, and sacrificed it on the altar.

PARNASSUS

That night the master counted the goats, and found one missing. In a violent passion, he took Comatas and put him into a great chest which stood in his palace hall. Then he shut down the lid and locked the chest, leaving the poor goatherd to die of starvation.

But the Muses had not forgotten their worshipper. They missed the sound of his piping, on the grassy slopes of Mount Helicon. Certain great purple moths used to flutter around with them in their moonlight dances. They sent one of these to find out what had become of the goatherd.

The moth flew straight to the huts of the slaves, but it did not find Comatas there. Then it flew in at one of the palace windows. The master of Comatas was sitting at a long table, with his friends, drinking wine. The purple moth took a sip from one of the goblets, then it fluttered airily round one of the tall bronze lamps. Next it crawled over the hangings, where there was a whole field of flowers, done in embroidery. Soon tiring of embroidered flowers, which had no sweetness, it descended to the floor, where it was attracted by the odor of the cedar-chest. Crawling up over the side of the chest, it peeped in at the keyhole, and found Comatas. Then it flew quickly away to Mount Helicon, to tell the Muses.

The next day a honey-bee flew in at the palace gate. It met the master of Comatas, and gave him a fine sting on the nose. Not long after, the house-maids or the guards, if they had been looking, might have seen the same bee crawling up the carved side of the cedar-chest, and going in at the keyhole, which was a door quite large enough for a honey-bee.

Soon other bees came, with their honey-bags full. They went in at the same tiny door, and came out again with their honey-bags empty.

One day, after Comatas had been shut up in the chest a year, his hard-hearted master caused the chest to be opened, expecting, of course, to find nothing but a handful of bones. There sat Comatas alive and well! This was wonderful, indeed.

Comatas told how he had been fed by the bees. His master, knowing that all honey-bees were the special servants of the Muses, believed that the Muses themselves had taken Comatas under their protection, and thereafter treated him with the greatest respect and the utmost kindness.

A
DONIS
was young, gentle, and very beautiful. All things loved him. Flowers sprang up under his feet, and bees and butterflies fluttered around him. When he went out hunting in the forest with his hounds, Venus, the goddess of beauty, used to follow him at a distance, keeping within the shadows. She trembled lest some accident should befall him, for she knew that the forest was full of wolves, panthers, and other beasts even more dangerous.

Mars, the cruel war-god, hated all gentle and beautiful things, and he hated Adonis worst of all. One day he sent an ugly wild boar, with his great sharp tusks, to attack the boy.

A few hours later Venus found Adonis, wounded and dying, with the bright blood falling in drops from his side. She bent over him, her tears falling with the drops of blood. As Venus's tears touched the ground, they were changed to wind-flowers, while every drop of blood that fell from the wound of Adonis became a red rose.