Aristo knew where the wild boars fed in gulches, and where the stunted oaks grew close and thick. Higher up in the mountains there were bears, which occasionally came down and made the wild pigs scamper. You could always tell when the bears were around, for then the little pigs would run out into the open. The bears had a liking for little pigs, and the bears had a liking for the honey in the bee-trees, too. Aristo could find the bee-trees better than the bears--all you had to do was to watch the flight of the bees as they left the clover. Then there were deer--you could see their tracks any time around the mountain marshes where the springs gushed forth and the watercress grew lush. Still higher up the mountains, beyond where bears ever traveled, there were mountain-sheep, and still higher up were goats. The goats were so wild that hardly any one but Aristo had ever seen them, but he knew they were there. The King was delighted to have such a lad as companion for his son, and insisted that he should go back to the capital with them and become a member of the Court. Not he--there were other ambitions. He wanted to go to Athens and study at the school of Plato--Plato, the pupil of the great Socrates. The King laughed--he had never heard of Plato. That a youth should refuse to become part of the Macedonian Court, preferring the company of an unknown school-master, was amusing--he laughed. The next year when the King came back to Stagira, Aristo was still there. "And you haven't gone to Athens yet?" said the King. "No, but I am going," was the firm reply. "We will send him," said the King to Proxenus, Aristo's guardian. And so we find Aristo, aged seventeen, tall and straight and bronzed, starting off for Athens, his worldly goods rolled up in a bearskin, tied about with thongs. There is a legend to the effect that Philip went with Aristo, and that for a time they were together at Plato's school. But, anyway, Philip did not remain long. Aristo--or Aristotle, we had better call him--remained with Plato just twenty years. At Plato's school Aristotle was called by the boys, "the Stagirite," a name that was to last him through life--and longer. In Winter he wore his bearskin, caught over one shoulder, for a robe, and his mountain grace and native beauty of mind and body must have been a joy to Plato from the first. Such a youth could not be overlooked.