Hero Tales | Page 3

the Hyperborean land. And the
people welcomed Apollo with shouts of joy and songs of triumph, as

one for whom they had long been waiting. He took up his abode there,
and dwelt with them one whole year, delighting them with his presence,
and ruling over them as their king. But when twelve moons had passed,
he bethought him that the toiling, suffering men of Greece needed most
his aid and care. Therefore he bade the Hyperboreans farewell, and
again went up into his sun-bright car; and his winged team carried him
back to the land of his birth.
Long time Apollo sought a place where he might build a temple to
which men might come to learn of him and to seek his help in time of
need. At length he came to a broad plain, by the shore of a beautiful
lake; and there he began to build a house, for the land was a pleasant
one, well-watered, and rich in grain and fruit. But the nymph that lived
in the lake liked not to have Apollo so near her, lest men seeing and
loving him should forget to honor her; and one day, garmented with
mosses and crowned with lilies, she came and stood before him in the
sunlight.
"Apollo of the silver bow," said she, "have you not made a mistake in
choosing this place for a dwelling? These rich plains around us will not
always be as peaceful as now; for their very richness will tempt the
spoiler, and the song of the cicada will then give place to the din of
battle. Even in times of peace you would hardly have a quiet hour here:
for great herds of cattle come crowding down every day to my lake for
water; the noisy ploughman, driving his team afield, disturbs the
morning hour with his boorish shouts; and boys and dogs keep up a
constant din, and make life in this place a burden."
"Fair nymph," said Apollo, "I had hoped to dwell here in thy happy
vale, a neighbor and friend to thee. Yet, since this place is not what it
seems to be, whither shall I go, and where shall I build my house?"
"Go to the cleft in Mount Parnassus," answered the nymph. "There thou
canst dwell in peace, and men will come from all parts of the world to
do thee honor."
And so Apollo went down to Parnassus, and there in the cleft of the
mountain he laid the foundations of his shrine. Then he called the
master architects of the world, Trophonius and Agamedes, and gave to
them the building of the high walls and the massive roof. When they
had finished their work, he said, "Say now what reward you most desire
for your labor, and I will give it you."

"Give us," said the brothers, "that which is the best for men."
"It is well," answered Apollo. "When the full moon is seen above the
mountain-tops, you shall have your wish."
But when the moon rose full and clear above the heights, the two
brothers were dead.
Apollo was pleased with the place which he had chosen for a home; for
there he found rest and quiet, and neither the hum of labor nor the din
of battle was likely ever to enter. One thing, however, must needs be
done before he could have perfect peace. There lived near the foot of
the mountain a huge serpent called Python, which was the terror of all
the land. Oftentimes, coming out of its den, this monster attacked the
flocks and herds, and sometimes even their keepers; and it had been
known to carry little children and helpless women to its den, and there
devour them.
The men of the place came to Apollo, and prayed him to drive out or
destroy their terrible enemy. So, taking in hand his silver bow, he
sallied out at break of day to meet the monster when it should issue
from its slimy cave. The vile creature shrank back when it saw its
radiant enemy, and would fain have hidden itself in the deep gorges of
the mountain. But Apollo quickly launched a swift arrow at it, crying,
"Thou bane of man, lie thou upon the earth, and enrich it with thy dead
body!" The never-erring arrow sped to the mark; and the great beast
died, wallowing in its gore. And the people in their joy came out to
meet the archer, singing paeans in his praise. They crowned him with
wild flowers and wreaths of olives, and hailed him as the Pythian king;
and the nightingales sang to him in the groves, and the swallows and
cicadas twittered and tuned their melodies in harmony with his lyre.
But as yet there were no priests