The moon was now high aloft in the heavens, and threw its bright beams
over the ploughed field, where as yet there was nothing to be seen.
Any farmer, on viewing it, would have said that Jason must wait weeks
before the green blades would peep from among the clods, and whole
months before the yellow grain would be ripened for the sickle. But
by and by, all over the field, there was something that glistened
in the moonbeams, like sparkling drops of dew. These bright objects
sprouted higher, and proved to be the steel heads of spears. Then there
was a dazzling gleam from a vast number of polished brass helmets,
beneath which, as they grew farther out of the soil, appeared the dark
and bearded visages of warriors, struggling to free themselves from
the imprisoning earth. The first look that they gave at the upper
world was a glare of wrath and defiance. Next were seen their bright
breastplates; in every right hand there was a sword or a spear, and on
each left arm a shield; and when this strange crop of warriors had but
half grown out of the earth, they struggled,--such was their impatience
of restraint,--and, as it were, tore themselves up by the roots.
Wherever a dragon's tooth had fallen, there stood a man armed for
battle. They made a clangor with their swords against their shields and
eyed one another fiercely; for they had come into this beautiful world,
and into the peaceful moonlight, full of rage and stormy passions, and
ready to take the life of every human brother, in recompense of the
boon of their own existence.
There have been many other armies in the world that seemed to possess
the same fierce nature with the one which had now sprouted from
the dragon's teeth; but these, in the moonlit field, were the more
excusable, because they never had women for their mothers. And how it
would have rejoiced any great captain, who was bent on conquering the
world, like Alexander or Napoleon, to raise a crop of armed soldiers as
easily as Jason did!
For a while, the warriors stood flourishing their weapons, clashing
their swords against their shields, and boiling over with the red-hot
thirst for battle. Then they began to shout--"Show us the enemy! Lead
us to the charge! Death or victory! Come on, brave comrades! Conquer or
die!" and a hundred other outcries, such as men always bellow forth on
a battle field, and which these dragon people seemed to have at their
tongues' ends. At last, the front rank caught sight of Jason, who,
beholding the flash of so many weapons in the moonlight, had thought it
best to draw his sword. In a moment all the sons of the dragon's teeth
appeared to take Jason for an enemy; and crying with one voice, "Guard
the Golden Fleece!" they ran at him with uplifted swords and protruded
spears. Jason knew that it would be impossible to withstand this
bloodthirsty battalion with his single arm, but determined, since there
was nothing better to be done, to die as valiantly as if he himself had
sprung from a dragon's tooth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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