Similarly the conscientious chronicler Apollodorus reports between Artemis and her nymph, Callisto, a great fondness terminated by the girl’s lapse from virginity;[31] and Iphigenia, whom Artemis rescued from the altar upon which her father was about to sacrifice her, was equally cherished.[32] Of Athene and her boon companion, Pallas, he tells us that in their girlhood they were so equally matched in the practice of arms that Zeus felt obliged one day to interpose his aegis between them lest his daughter be slain. As a result, Athene’s thrust killed Pallas, whereupon, overcome by grief, Athene herself fashioned a wooden statue of her friend, wrapped it in the aegis, set it up beside that of Zeus, and honored it as she did his image. Hence her later epithet, Pallas-Athene.[33] Apollodorus later illustrates Athene’s antipathy to the male by the Hephaestus story.[34] But with all these suggestive incidents he never mentions active variance in the goddess. Ovid, on the other hand, offers two reports of variance. That it was not a personal obsession with him is proved by his treatment of those devotees of Diana, Atalanta and Daphne. Though the latter was so averse to the male that she prayed to be free of the beauty which made gods and men pursue her and was transmuted into a laurel tree,[35] no woman enters her story. The same is true of Atalanta,[36] “maidenly for a boy, boyish for a maiden,” her plainly dressed hair “caught up in one knot,” and a bow and quiver part of her usual costume. The story is well-known of her evading marriage by challenging all suitors to a footrace in which defeat meant death, but in the end she finally succumbed to the youth who secured Venus’s aid against her. Concerning Callisto, however, of whom Apollodorus’s account is so bare, Ovid is much more specific.[37] Jove, smitten with the charms of the young huntress, knows that the sure means of approaching her is to assume his daughter Diana’s form. Thus disguised he says, “Dear maid, best loved of all my followers, where hast thou been hunting today?” and then “he kissed her lips, not modestly nor as a maiden kisses.” With neither protest nor surprise Callisto begins to recount her doings, and not until “he broke in upon her story with an embrace and by this outrage betrayed himself” does she recognize that her lover is not the goddess. When the results of Jove’s attentions become evident—amusingly enough Diana, the virgin, is the last to recognize the signs—the girl, though blameless, is expelled forever from the goddess’s train.