Half a Hundred Hero Tales of Ulysses and The Men of Old
General
Half a Hundred Hero Tales of Ulysses and The Men of Old
Mythology, Classical -- Juvenile literature
I know not how far Cadmus had gone, nor could he himself have told
you, when, at no great distance before him, he beheld a brindled cow.
She was lying down by the wayside, and quietly chewing her cud; nor
did she take any notice of the young man until he had approached
pretty nigh. Then getting leisurely upon her feet, and giving her head
a gentle toss, she began to move along at a moderate pace, often
pausing just long enough to crop a mouthful of grass. Cadmus loitered
behind, whistling idly to himself, and scarcely noticing the cow,
until the thought occurred to him, whether this could possibly be the
animal which, according to the oracle's response, was to serve him for
a guide. But he smiled at himself for fancying such a thing. He could
not seriously think that this was the cow, because she went along so
quietly, behaving just like any other cow. Evidently she neither knew
nor cared so much as a wisp of hay about Cadmus, and was only thinking
how to get her living along the wayside, where the herbage was green
and fresh. Perhaps she was going home to be milked.
"Cow, cow, cow!" cried Cadmus. "Hey, Brindle, hey! Stop, my good cow."
He wanted to come up with the cow, so as to examine her, and see if
she would appear to know him, or whether there were any peculiarities
to distinguish her from a thousand other cows, whose only business is
to fill the milk-pail, and sometimes kick it over. But still the
brindled cow trudged on, whisking her tail to keep the flies away, and
taking as little notice of Cadmus as she well could. If he walked
slowly, so did the cow, and seized the opportunity to graze. If he
quickened his pace, the cow went just so much faster; and once, when
Cadmus tried to catch her by running, she threw out her heels, stuck
her tail straight on end, and set off at a gallop, looking as queerly
as cows generally do while putting themselves to their speed.
When Cadmus saw that it was impossible to come up with her, he walked
on moderately, as before. The cow, too, went leisurely on, without
looking behind. Wherever the grass was greenest, there she nibbled a
mouthful or two. Where a brook glistened brightly across the path,
there the cow drank, and breathed a comfortable sigh, and drank again,
and trudged onward at the pace that best suited herself and Cadmus.
"I do believe," thought Cadmus, "that this may be the cow that was
foretold me. If it be the one, I suppose she will lie down somewhere
hereabouts."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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