Children of the Dawn : Old Tales of GreeceBuckley, E. F. (Elsie Finnimore)
General
Children of the Dawn : Old Tales of Greece
Buckley, E. F. (Elsie Finnimore)
Mythology, Greek -- Juvenile literature
Every morning at sunrise a troop of boys and youths would come forth
from the cave, and, dividing into groups, would go their several ways
to fish or to hunt, or to follow the course of some stream to its
unknown source in the mountains. Sometimes Cheiron himself would go
with them, if he thought they had need of his help; but more often he
left them to their own devices, to follow each one his own bent as
Nature prompted him. In the evening they would come home and tell him
of their doings in the day; and he would praise or blame them,
according as they had done well or ill, and show them how they might
do better another time. Then they would go to their couches of dried
moss and leaves, and sleep the deep sleep of youth and health, while
the cool night breeze blew in upon their faces from the mouth of the
cave, and put fresh life and strength into their tired limbs. In the
winter-time, when the night was longer than the day, and the snow lay
deep upon the hills, they would light a great fire in front of the
cave with logs they had stored in the summer months, and Cheiron
would take his lyre and sing to them of all things in heaven and
earth, while they lay round about and listened. The songs which he
sang to them then they never forgot, because Cheiron was wise, and
spoke to their souls in his singing. So they laid up his songs in
their hearts; and many a long year after, when they were grown men far
away, and some danger or difficulty stood in their path, the drift of
his teaching would come back to them in the words of a song, and their
hearts would grow brave and strong once more to act worthily of their
boyhood's sunny days on Pelion. Many a hero whose name still lives
among men had been trained by Cheiron in his youth--Peleus, who
married a goddess, and Achilles his son, the swiftest and bravest of
mortal men; and Jason, the leader of the Argonauts; and Asklepios, the
mighty healer; and, not least among them, Orpheus, the greatest of
Greek musicians and mystics, whose tale I will tell you now.
One day, as the shades of evening were beginning to fall, Cheiron
stood before the mouth of the cave waiting for the lads to come home.
Sooner than he expected he saw one of them far away coming down a path
from the mountains, and he marvelled that he should return so soon and
alone. As he came nearer Cheiron saw that he walked with his eyes upon
the ground, deep in thought. Every now and again he stopped and looked
round upon the peaceful hillsides stretching calm and smiling in the
golden glow of the evening; and when he had gazed for a moment he
sighed, as though he would breathe into his soul the beauty he saw
around him, and then went on his way once more with his eyes on the
ground. So he walked till he came close to the cave and saw Cheiron
standing in the entrance. Then he ran up to him and put his hand upon
his shoulder.
"My father," he cried, "look round upon the hills; hast thou ever seen
them so fair as they have been this day?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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