‘Oh, certainly not, most noble Hercules,’ they answered in unison. But Tiphys said gently: ‘Be careful, Hercules, or you will make some god envious! It was careless praise of this very sort that tempted Zeus to carry off young Trojan Ganymede. Let me ward off all danger from Hylas by a little disparagement. His nose is somewhat too short, his mouth somewhat too large, and he crooks his little finger affectedly when he drinks.’
‘I like short noses, his mouth is perfectly formed, and if you speak another word against the elegant way in which he drinks I will make a pestle of my club and crush you to a paste.’
‘Very well,’ said Tiphys, ‘I recant my words, which were spoken with a good intention.’
‘Forget your good intentions and stick to the truth,’ said Hercules severely. ‘The truth is great and will prevail.’ He then remembered the broken oar and told his companions: ‘I am going off to cut myself an oar, a real oar that will never snap in two. When Hylas comes back, brother Polyphemus, see that he eats well and drinks a little wine, but not too much. I consider wine in large quantities unwholesome for a child.’
Hercules strode off and rambled around the district, looking for a suitable pine-tree but found none to satisfy him. Each tree that he examined was either too small or too large, or had too many branches, or was crooked. As darkness fell, he came back in a sullen mood and demanded a lighted torch. Polyphemus hurriedly supplied him with one, and he went off again. Two hours or so passed before he found a pine that suited him, a splendid tree, as straight and as smooth as a poplar, growing at the edge of a dark grove. He loosened its roots with his club and then stooping down with straddled legs tugged fiercely at it; it came rushing up at last with a cart-load of earth about its roots. Then, knocking the earth off, he heaved the tree on his shoulder and came blundering back to the camp-fire. ‘Let someone give me an axe,’ he shouted. ‘I intend to trim this oar at once, before I dine. And, Argus, I will trouble you to pierce me a new oar-hole in the ship twice as wide as the other.’
He was whittling and chopping away, with great grunts, when suddenly he called out: ‘Hylas, hey you, Hylas my darling, come and see what I am doing!’
‘Hylas has not returned yet, noble brother,’ said Polyphemus. ‘Shall I go out to look for him?’
‘Not yet returned! What do you mean by “not yet returned”?’ growled Hercules. ‘Please do not dare to bait me. I am a touchy man until I have eaten and drunken well.’
‘It is no jest,’ said Polyphemus. ‘Hylas went out with the pitcher and has not yet returned. Shall I go in search of him while you complete your oar?’
‘You had better do so, Polyphemus,’ said Hercules, ‘and, when you have found him, tell him from me that he can expect the worst beating of his life for giving me such anxiety on his account.’
Polyphemus, slinging a faggot of torches behind his back and taking a lighted torch in his hand, set off up the river. As he went he called Hylas by name loudly; but no reply came, except the mocking hoot of an owl. He was a skilled woodman and soon picked up the prints of small, sandalled feet. It was the track of Hylas, who clearly had been running. The toe-marks of the right sandal were not more deeply indented than those of the left: the heavy bronze pitcher must therefore have been counterbalanced by some weight on the other side. Or had Hylas thrown the pitcher into the river? The track led Polyphemus along a small brook which ended in a deep fountain, called the fountain of Pegae, and there he found the sandals and pitcher of Hylas lying by the bank, and his fawn-skin coat, but no Hylas. At that moment the sudden cry of a night bird rang out from the thicket and Polyphemus drew his sword and rushed forward, confused in his wits, thinking that robbers or some wild beast had carried Hylas off. He shouted: ‘Hylas, Hylas, what are they doing to you?’
Hercules heard the shout as he sat working by the shore, and seizing his great club came bounding up the valley. Soon he met Polyphemus, who, with chattering teeth and tremulous voice, cried out: ‘O dear Hercules – be prepared to hear bad news. Hylas went to the spring up yonder, but there the tracks end. He has left his pitcher and sandals and fawn-skin coat on the grass, but robbers have attacked him, or wild bears, or some jealous god has caught him up into the sky – I heard him cry out!’
Hercules roared with rage and anguish like a monstrous bull stung in some tender part by a gadfly. He ran past Polyphemus and began whirling his club about his head, yelling: ‘Hylas, Hylas, my darling, come back to me! Come back, you are forgiven! I never intended to beat you!’
Polyphemus, returning to the Argonauts, warned them what they must expect from Hercules if Hylas could not be found. ‘I am sure that he will kill us all – beginning with Tiphys and Jason.’
‘What happened is plain enough,’ said Erginus of Miletos. ‘Hylas ran on until he was hot, drank at the fountain, took off his sandals and fawn-skin for a swim, dived in, found himself out of his depth, and drowned.’
‘He could swim like a fish,’ Jason objected.
‘He must have struck his head against a sunken rock and stunned himself,’ said Euphemus of Taenaron. ‘The same has happened to many rash swimmers.’
‘Hylas was a gallant little fellow,’ said Peleus. ‘I shall miss him.’
Meleager smiled. ‘I do not think that you need speak of him as already dead,’ he said. ‘From the way in which he spoke to Atalanta and myself the other day in Samothrace, I judge that he has merely run off from his master. And, upon my word, I cannot find it in my heart to blame him.’
Lynceus said: ‘I noticed that he had a wallet with him when he started out. If he plunged into the pool for a swim he would have left that behind on the bank as well as his sandals and pitcher.’
‘I heard it clink,’ said Atalanta.
Polyphemus said: ‘A heavy wallet on his left side would account for the evenness of the track. I could not understand why the weight of the pitcher did not depress the toe-marks either on one side or the other.’
‘A heavy clinking wallet?’ cried Mopsus. ‘Then it is as clear as day that the youngster has run off. He is clever enough to give Hercules the slip, for the time being at least. I imagine that he will follow the inland road to Troy, take ship there for Lemnos and find that girl Iphinoë again.’
Argus said: ‘Perhaps Pelias was speaking the truth when he suggested that the weight of Hercules would prove too heavy for the Argo. When he comes back I fear he will stamp huge holes in her bottom. Has he not gone insane once more? Look at this prodigious oar that he has made. Does he really intend to use it? It is almost as long as the boat. Everyone will laugh at us as we row by.’
Old Nauplius commented sourly: ‘This is the oddest oar that ever I saw in all my thirty years of seafaring. It is too long for use even if Hercules were to shift across to the bench on the opposite side. Besides, how could he ever ship it? Should we jettison the mast and put the oar into the mast-crutch instead?’
Hercules could still be heard shouting ‘Hylas! Hylas!’ in the far distance, but the faint flashes of his torch could no longer be seen. They anxiously discussed whether Hylas would disclose to the Trojans that the Argo was on her way to Colchis; for if he did, the consequences would be serious. But Atalanta stood up for Hylas, declaring that he would rather bite out his tongue than betray a comrade, and that he was a wonderfully resourceful little liar when it pleased him. ‘I wish him luck with the women,’ she said. ‘Yet I cannot help feeling anxious about him, now that he is at their mercy – upon my honour I do!’
So the talk ran on. ‘Well, I hope now to snatch a little sleep,’ said Great Ancaeus. ‘This has been an exhausting day for us all. Good night, comrades!’
They all fell asleep but Polyphemus, who did not wish Hercules to think him a shirker. He went up the river again in the direction that Hercules had taken, wearily crying ‘Hylas! Hylas!’ and waving his torch.
The Cios is the outfall of a large, sacred lake named the Ascanian Lake at the nearer end of which stands an ancient College of Woodpecker nymphs. When Hyl
as had reached the fountain of Pegae he had surprised the Chief Nymph, whose name was Dryope, bathing naked in it; for this was the evening of the new moon and she was purifying herself for sacrifice. Hylas modestly averted his gaze, but dared ask her to put him on the road to Troy, telling his story with little concealment. Dryope fell in love with him. She told him that, if he pleased, he might come with her to the College, where she would disguise him among her women until the vessel had sailed on. When he thanked her with tears in his eyes, she embraced him, but not in the bear-like fashion of Hercules, and kissed him sweetly. She said that since he had looked on her nakedness, and had not been turned into a fox or stag, the Goddess plainly had arranged this meeting: he might company with her, and welcome. Thus she seduced him without difficulty, for she was a beautiful woman and he was overjoyed to feel himself a man at last and to enjoy the favour of the Goddess. He gave her all his ornaments as a love-token, but she advised him to leave his pitcher, sandals, and coat by the side of the fountain as if he had been drowned; she would take him back with her by a firm, grassy path where his feet would leave no print.
When Hercules went raging to the College to enquire after Hylas, Dryope told him that she knew nothing. He insisted upon searching every nook and she did not oppose his wish, though the College was sacred and he had no right to cross the threshold. He went from room to room, smashing open cupboards and chests with his club and glaring balefully at the terrified nymphs. He passed close by Hylas but did not recognize him in his short green tunic and hood; then with growls, snarls, and curses he went back at dawn to the camp-fire by the lagoon. He shouted out as he approached: ‘You traitors have all plotted against me. I will have vengeance. One of you has stolen my darling from me. It is you, Jason; or you, Tiphys. I never trusted either of you.’
But the camp-fire was deserted, and when he looked around for the Argo, she was gone. As the sky brightened he could see her, small on the western horizon, coasting along the basalt cliffs of Arganthonios. When he realized that he was marooned he was at first too astonished to be angry. Such a thing had never happened to him before in all his adventures. He searched the shore for his silver cup and other belongings, which he could not doubt but that they had taken out of his locker and left behind for him. But they had left nothing at all behind, except fish-bones and his new oar. O, the pirates! From the woods behind him he could hear the hoarse voice of Polyphemus still crying at intervals: ‘Hylas! Hylas! where are you?’
There was a deal of trouble aboard the Argo. An hour before dawn a smart breeze had blown down the valley, fanning the spent embers of the campfire into a blaze. The smoke made Tiphys cough and sneeze. He awoke and aroused Jason, saying: ‘Here is the very breeze that we need. Order all hands into the ship!’
Jason shouted: ‘All hands aboard!’ The sleepy Argonauts gathered their gear together and stumbled up the ladder into the ship, each to his own bench, except that Meleager went apart from Atalanta and sat down in the seat of Hercules. For during the night a lovers’ quarrel had arisen between these two. What was said on either side is not known, but they were now no longer on terms of friendship and if they had any necessary request to make of each other, it was conveyed through Orpheus.
The ladder was drawn up at Jason’s command and the Argonauts used the butts of their oars as poles to propel the Argo from the lagoon. Then the rapid current of the Cios caught and swept her out into the gulf. ‘Up sail!’ Jason cried. The mast was hauled from its crutch and stepped, the yard was hoisted, the breeze bellied out the sail. Still half-asleep, the Argonauts watched the misty shore recede.
It was not until they had sailed well out into the gulf that Admetus, who at Iolcos had first urged that Hercules should lead the expedition, suddenly cried: ‘Where is Hercules? Why is he not aboard? And where is Polyphemus? What are you doing in the seat of Hercules, Meleager?’
He slewed angrily about to satisfy himself that Hercules was not asleep in the bows. Then he shouted to Tiphys: ‘You miserable rascal! You roused us in the half-dark and persuaded Jason to fetch us aboard and push off before we realized that Hercules was not among us. About ship at once, or it will be the worse for you!’
Tiphys made no reply, but smiled grimly back at Admetus.
Admetus shipped his oar and leaped up, weapon in hand. He stumbled cursing down the ship towards Tiphys. But Calaïs and Zetes, sons of the North Wind, caught at him, crying: ‘Silence, Admetus! If you have any complaint to make, address it to Jason. He is captain here.’
Admetus struggled with them. ‘You are right, Thracians,’ he said. ‘Jason too is concerned in the plot. He has agreed to maroon Hercules from jealousy. He wishes all the credit for this expedition to come to himself. He knows well that if it is successful everyone with any sense will praise Hercules and forget Jason. About ship, there! Hey, comrades, who is on my side? What hope have we of winning the Fleece without Hercules? Let us return at once and fetch him off, and Polyphemus too. If he punishes Jason and Tiphys as they deserve, I for one will not raise a hand to save them.’
Nobody but Peleus and Acastus supported Admetus. The wind was rough and the previous day’s rowing had so exhausted the Argonauts that the thought of lowering the yard and rowing back in the teeth of the wind distressed them. Besides, they were more afraid of meeting Hercules again than of earning the reproach of having deserted him: he had been in a mad enough mood before Hylas had been lost, and they had not even left any food or drink for him at the camping-place.
Idmon said: ‘Come, Jason, you are our leader. It is for you to make the decision. Shall we return or shall we proceed?’
Jason sat and glowered, unwilling to say a word.
Phalerus the Athenian taunted him: ‘Jason, you are as silent as a fishmonger in the market of Athens, when a customer asks him the price of a fish, reckoned either in oil or barley. He will not name a price fearing to ask less than the customer is prepared to pay. But when the proud fishmonger plays such a trick on me I pick up the wet fish and slap his face with it, though in general I am a patient man.’
Admetus spoke again: ‘The wind is bearing us further and further away. Come, Jason, give the word before it is too late.’
Idas mocked raucously: ‘Admetus, Admetus, your lamb-skin cap is crooked on your head, and your nose is smudged with tar. Sit down, man, sit down!’
Calaïs said, more gently: ‘Admetus, forget about Hercules. Some god or other put it into the mind of Tiphys to rouse us up as he did, and has blinded us to the loss of Hercules until now.’
‘And with his unseen finger still seals the lips of Jason, our captain,’ put in Zetes. ‘Let us sail on, forgetting the mad Tirynthian, and think only of the Fleece.’
Admetus replied: ‘Very well. What am I, one man against you all? But bear witness, Acastus and Peleus, that you and I earnestly proposed a return to the camping-place, and that Zetes and Calaïs opposed it. If Hercules cares to be revenged on any of us, let it be upon those two Thracians. Jason, Argus, Tiphys, and the rest seem caught in a divine trance and cannot be held accountable. As for you, Idas, one day you will say one mocking word too many: it will fly back into your mouth as a Spite and sting your tongue.’
They sailed on in a silence which presently was broken by the creaking voice of Ascalaphus of Orchomenos. ‘I hear a strange singing noise from the prow. Can it be the oak branch of Zeus?’
‘It is only the wind in the cordage,’ said Echion.
But Mopsus the soothsayer climbed up into the prow and, beckoning the crew to silence, listened intently. At last he nodded and spoke: The branch says: “Hercules is left behind by the design of Zeus himself. The anger of Hercules will make smooth the path of our return. For Polyphemus, too, Father Zeus has a work to perform at the mouth of the Cios. Cease, my sons, to wrangle among yourselves, but sail on piously in quest of that holy thing which was stolen long ago by a Mare from a Ram.”’
This settled the matter, and there was peace again upon the benches. Hercules, since he could
not find the least trace of Hylas in the Cios valley, visited all the neighbouring cities of Mysia, one by one, and accused the rulers of each in turn of having stolen Hylas from him. When they denied the charge, he demanded hostages for their good behaviour and a promise to search for Hylas until they had found him. They consented, knowing that if they refused Hercules anything he would knock their houses to pieces and burn up their crops. To this day the people of Mysia still make search for Hylas everywhere once a year, crying his name vainly up the fertile valleys and through the shaggy woods of their land. But Hercules himself started off for Colchis on foot, hoping to catch the Argo there and avenge himself on Jason and his companions.
Polyphemus, being an exile from Larisa, had no fixed home, and when Hercules gave him charge of his thirty young Mysian hostages he decided to settle in the valley of the Cios and build a city there. He did so, and it has since become a place of great importance, and a favourite nesting-place for the holy stork.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pollux Boxes with King Amycus
Upon making Cape Poseidon, the Argonauts shaped their course for the north-west, lowering the sail and taking to their oars. The high hills sheltered them from the wind, but they had not yet recovered from their exertions of the previous day, and their progress along the steep and rocky coast was therefore slow.
Nauplius asked Jason: ‘Do we attempt the Bosphorus passage this afternoon?’
Jason consulted Tiphys, who answered: ‘The current in the strait will still be very strong. Without the help of Hercules I think that we shall hardly be able to stem it.’
‘Then why in the world,’ cried Admetus, ‘did you hurry us away this morning, leaving Hercules behind?’
Idmon said in his high voice: ‘Admetus, Admetus, we have already canvassed that question sufficiently, and the speaking branch of Father Zeus has plainly accounted for the action of Tiphys. My advice is that you should go over to Tiphys now and shake him by the hand, to show yourself his friend; and that you should do the same with Jason and Calaïs and Zetes.’
The Golden Fleece Page 24