Tanglewood Tales (25 page)

Greatly encouraged at finding himself not yet turned into a cinder, the
young man awaited the attack of the bulls. Just as the brazen brutes
fancied themselves sure of tossing him into the air, he caught one of
them by the horn, and the other by his screwed-up tail, and held them
in a gripe like that of an iron vice, one with his right hand, the other
with his left. Well, he must have been wonderfully strong in his arms,
to be sure. But the secret of the matter was, that the brazen bulls were
enchanted creatures, and that Jason had broken the spell of their fiery
fierceness by his bold way of handling them. And, ever since that time,
it has been the favorite method of brave men, when danger assails them,
to do what they call "taking the bull by the horns"; and to gripe him
by the tail is pretty much the same thing—that is, to throw aside fear,
and overcome the peril by despising it. It was now easy to yoke the
bulls, and to harness them to the plow, which had lain rusting on the
ground for a great many years gone by; so long was it before anybody
could be found capable of plowing that piece of land. Jason, I suppose,
had been taught how to draw a furrow by the good old Chiron, who,
perhaps, used to allow himself to be harnessed to the plow. At any rate,
our hero succeeded perfectly well in breaking up the greensward; and,
by the time that the moon was a quarter of her journey up the sky, the
plowed field lay before him, a large tract of black earth, ready to be
sown with the dragon's teeth. So Jason scattered them broadcast, and
harrowed them into the soil with a brush-harrow, and took his stand on
the edge of the field, anxious to see what would happen next.

"Must we wait long for harvest time?" he inquired of Medea, who was now
standing by his side.

"Whether sooner or later, it will be sure to come," answered the
princess. "A crop of armed men never fails to spring up, when the
dragon's teeth have been sown."

The moon was now high aloft in the heavens, and threw its bright beams
over the plowed field, where as yet there was nothing to be seen. Any
farmer, on viewing it, would have said that Jason must wait weeks before
the green blades would peep from among the clods, and whole months
before the yellow grain would be ripened for the sickle. But by and by,
all over the field, there was something that glistened in the moonbeams,
like sparkling drops of dew. These bright objects sprouted higher, and
proved to be the steel heads of spears. Then there was a dazzling gleam
from a vast number of polished brass helmets, beneath which, as they
grew farther out of the soil, appeared the dark and bearded visages of
warriors, struggling to free themselves from the imprisoning earth. The
first look that they gave at the upper world was a glare of wrath and
defiance. Next were seen their bright breastplates; in every right hand
there was a sword or a spear, and on each left arm a shield; and when
this strange crop of warriors had but half grown out of the earth, they
struggled—such was their impatience of restraint—and, as it were, tore
themselves up by the roots. Wherever a dragon's tooth had fallen, there
stood a man armed for battle. They made a clangor with their swords
against their shields, and eyed one another fiercely; for they had come
into this beautiful world, and into the peaceful moonlight, full of rage
and stormy passions, and ready to take the life of every human brother,
in recompense of the boon of their own existence.

There have been many other armies in the world that seemed to possess
the same fierce nature with the one which had now sprouted from
the dragon's teeth; but these, in the moonlit field, were the more
excusable, because they never had women for their mothers. And how it
would have rejoiced any great captain, who was bent on conquering the
world, like Alexander or Napoleon, to raise a crop of armed soldiers as
easily as Jason did! For a while, the warriors stood flourishing their
weapons, clashing their swords against their shields, and boiling over
with the red-hot thirst for battle. Then they began to shout—"Show us
the enemy! Lead us to the charge! Death or victory!" "Come on, brave
comrades! Conquer or die!" and a hundred other outcries, such as men
always bellow forth on a battle field, and which these dragon people
seemed to have at their tongues' ends. At last, the front rank caught
sight of Jason, who, beholding the flash of so many weapons in the
moonlight, had thought it best to draw his sword. In a moment all the
sons of the dragon's teeth appeared to take Jason for an enemy; and
crying with one voice, "Guard the Golden Fleece!" they ran at him
with uplifted swords and protruded spears. Jason knew that it would be
impossible to withstand this blood-thirsty battalion with his single
arm, but determined, since there was nothing better to be done, to die
as valiantly as if he himself had sprung from a dragon's tooth.

Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone from the ground.

"Throw it among them quickly!" cried she. "It is the only way to save
yourself."

The armed men were now so nigh that Jason could discern the fire
flashing out of their enraged eyes, when he let fly the stone, and saw
it strike the helmet of a tall warrior, who was rushing upon him with
his blade aloft. The stone glanced from this man's helmet to the shield
of his nearest comrade, and thence flew right into the angry face of
another, hitting him smartly between the eyes. Each of the three who had
been struck by the stone took it for granted that his next neighbor had
given him a blow; and instead of running any farther towards Jason, they
began to fight among themselves. The confusion spread through the
host, so that it seemed scarcely a moment before they were all hacking,
hewing, and stabbing at one another, lopping off arms, heads, and
legs and doing such memorable deeds that Jason was filled with immense
admiration; although, at the same time, he could not help laughing to
behold these mighty men punishing each other for an offense which he
himself had committed. In an incredibly short space of time (almost
as short, indeed, as it had taken them to grow up), all but one of the
heroes of the dragon's teeth were stretched lifeless on the field. The
last survivor, the bravest and strongest of the whole, had just force
enough to wave his crimson sword over his head and give a shout of
exultation, crying, "Victory! Victory! Immortal fame!" when he himself
fell down, and lay quietly among his slain brethren.

And there was the end of the army that had sprouted from the dragon's
teeth. That fierce and feverish fight was the only enjoyment which they
had tasted on this beautiful earth.

"Let them sleep in the bed of honor," said the Princess Medea, with a
sly smile at Jason. "The world will always have simpletons enough, just
like them, fighting and dying for they know not what, and fancying that
posterity will take the trouble to put laurel wreaths on their rusty
and battered helmets. Could you help smiling, Prince Jason, to see the
self-conceit of that last fellow, just as he tumbled down?"

"It made me very sad," answered Jason, gravely. "And, to tell you the
truth, princess, the Golden Fleece does not appear so well worth the
winning, after what I have here beheld!"

"You will think differently in the morning," said Medea. "True, the
Golden Fleece may not be so valuable as you have thought it; but then
there is nothing better in the world; and one must needs have an object,
you know. Come! Your night's work has been well performed; and to-morrow
you can inform King Aetes that the first part of your allotted task is
fulfilled."

Agreeably to Medea's advice, Jason went betimes in the morning to the
palace of King Aetes. Entering the presence chamber, he stood at the
foot of the throne, and made a low obeisance.

"Your eyes look heavy, Prince Jason," observed the king; "you appear
to have spent a sleepless night. I hope you have been considering the
matter a little more wisely, and have concluded not to get yourself
scorched to a cinder, in attempting to tame my brazen-lunged bulls."

"That is already accomplished, may it please your majesty," replied
Jason. "The bulls have been tamed and yoked; the field has been plowed;
the dragon's teeth have been sown broadcast, and harrowed into the
soil; the crop of armed warriors have sprung up, and they have slain one
another, to the last man. And now I solicit your majesty's permission
to encounter the dragon, that I may take down the Golden Fleece from the
tree, and depart, with my nine and forty comrades."

King Aetes scowled, and looked very angry and excessively disturbed;
for he knew that, in accordance with his kingly promise, he ought now to
permit Jason to win the Fleece, if his courage and skill should enable
him to do so. But, since the young man had met with such good luck in
the matter of the brazen bulls and the dragon's teeth, the king
feared that he would be equally successful in slaying the dragon.
And therefore, though he would gladly have seen Jason snapped up at a
mouthful, he was resolved (and it was a very wrong thing of this wicked
potentate) not to run any further risk of losing his beloved Fleece.

"You never would have succeeded in this business, young man," said
he, "if my undutiful daughter Medea had not helped you with her
enchantments. Had you acted fairly, you would have been, at this
instant, a black cinder, or a handful of white ashes. I forbid you, on
pain of death, to make any more attempts to get the Golden Fleece. To
speak my mind plainly, you shall never set eyes on so much as one of its
glistening locks."

Jason left the king's presence in great sorrow and anger. He could think
of nothing better to be done than to summon together his forty-nine
brave Argonauts, march at once to the Grove of Mars, slay the dragon,
take possession of the Golden Fleece, get on board the Argo, and spread
all sail for Iolchos. The success of this scheme depended, it is true,
on the doubtful point whether all the fifty heroes might not be snapped
up, at so many mouthfuls, by the dragon. But, as Jason was hastening
down the palace steps, the Princess Medea called after him, and
beckoned him to return. Her black eyes shone upon him with such a keen
intelligence, that he felt as if there were a serpent peeping out of
them; and, although she had done him so much service only the night
before, he was by no means very certain that she would not do him an
equally great mischief before sunset. These enchantresses, you must
know, are never to be depended upon.

"What says King Aetes, my royal and upright father?" inquired Medea,
slightly smiling. "Will he give you the Golden Fleece, without any
further risk or trouble?"

"On the contrary," answered Jason, "he is very angry with me for taming
the brazen bulls and sowing the dragon's teeth. And he forbids me to
make any more attempts, and positively refuses to give up the Golden
Fleece, whether I slay the dragon or no."

"Yes, Jason," said the princess, "and I can tell you more. Unless you
set sail from Colchis before to-morrow's sunrise, the king means to
burn your fifty-oared galley, and put yourself and your forty-nine brave
comrades to the sword. But be of good courage. The Golden Fleece you
shall have, if it lies within the power of my enchantments to get it for
you. Wait for me here an hour before midnight."

At the appointed hour you might again have seen Prince Jason and the
Princess Medea, side by side, stealing through the streets of Colchis,
on their way to the sacred grove, in the center of which the Golden
Fleece was suspended to a tree. While they were crossing the pasture
ground, the brazen bulls came towards Jason, lowing, nodding their
heads, and thrusting forth their snouts, which, as other cattle do,
they loved to have rubbed and caressed by a friendly hand. Their
fierce nature was thoroughly tamed; and, with their fierceness, the two
furnaces in their stomachs had likewise been extinguished, insomuch that
they probably enjoyed far more comfort in grazing and chewing their cuds
than ever before. Indeed, it had heretofore been a great inconvenience
to these poor animals, that, whenever they wished to eat a mouthful of
grass, the fire out of their nostrils had shriveled it up, before they
could manage to crop it. How they contrived to keep themselves alive is
more than I can imagine. But now, instead of emitting jets of flame
and streams of sulphurous vapor, they breathed the very sweetest of cow
breath.

After kindly patting the bulls, Jason followed Medea's guidance into
the Grove of Mars, where the great oak trees, that had been growing for
centuries, threw so thick a shade that the moonbeams struggled vainly to
find their way through it. Only here and there a glimmer fell upon the
leaf-strewn earth, or now and then a breeze stirred the boughs aside,
and gave Jason a glimpse of the sky, lest, in that deep obscurity, he
might forget that there was one, overhead. At length, when they had
gone farther and farther into the heart of the duskiness, Medea squeezed
Jason's hand.

"Look yonder," she whispered. "Do you see it?"

Gleaming among the venerable oaks, there was a radiance, not like the
moonbeams, but rather resembling the golden glory of the setting sun.
It proceeded from an object, which appeared to be suspended at about a
man's height from the ground, a little farther within the wood.

"What is it?" asked Jason.

"Have you come so far to seek it," exclaimed Medea, "and do you not
recognize the meed of all your toils and perils, when it glitters before
your eyes? It is the Golden Fleece."

Jason went onward a few steps farther, and then stopped to gaze. O, how
beautiful it looked, shining with a marvelous light of its own, that
inestimable prize which so many heroes had longed to behold, but had
perished in the quest of it, either by the perils of their voyage, or by
the fiery breath of the brazen-lunged bulls.