When King Minos, whose island Dædalus forsook, learned that he had fled to Sicily he resolved to follow him with a strong force. He organized a fleet and set out from Crete to Agrigentum. There he disembarked his troops and sent messengers to King Cocalus, demanding the surrender of the fugitive. But Cocalus was enraged at this invasion by a foreign tyrant and determined to find some way of destroying him. He pretended to consent, promised to comply with his wishes in every way, and invited him to an interview. Minos came and was received by Cocalus with the greatest hospitality. A warm bath was prepared to relieve him of fatigue, but when he sat in the tub it was so soon overheated that Minos was suffocated. The king sent his body to the Cretans who came with him, informing them that Minos had slipped and fallen into the hot water in the tub. Minos was taken with great pomp by his warriors to Agrigentum and above his grave a temple of Venus was built. Dædalus remained in the continuous favor of Cocalus, educated many famous artists, and was the founder of art in Sicily. But he was never happy after the death of his son, and while he enriched the country which had given him refuge, with beautiful art works, his old age was sorrowful and full of troubles. He died upon the island and was buried there. Chapter XVI Philemon and Baucis Upon a hill in the land of Phrygia stands a thousand year old oak, and close by it a linden of the same age, both surrounded by a low wall. Many a wreath has been hung upon the boughs of the neighborly pair. Not far from them extends a swampy lake into which empties a shallow stream. Where in former times people dwelt, now only herons and ducks rove about. Once Father Zeus came to this spot with his son Hermes carrying only his wand, but not his winged cap. They were seeking hospitality in human form. They knocked at a thousand doors praying shelter for the night. But the people were so disobliging that the heavenly visitants could not anywhere find lodging. At the end of the village was a hut, humble and small, covered with straw and rushes. In this poor house lived a happy couple, honest Philemon and Baucis, his wife, of the same age. They had spent their joyous youth together there, and there they had grown white-haired. They made no complaint of their poverty, but quietly bore their hard lot, united in love, and although childless, they were content in the mean little house which they alone occupied together.