Where the Argonauts were the fires burned, the moon arose, and still
Hylas did not return. Then they began to fear lest a wild beast had
destroyed the boy. One went to Heracles and told him that young Hylas had
not come back, and that they were fearful for him. Heracles flung down the
pine tree that he was fashioning into an oar, and he dashed along the way
that Hylas had gone as if a gadfly were stinging him. “Hylas, Hylas,” he
cried. But Hylas, in the cold and glimmering cave that the nymphs had
drawn him into, did not hear the call of his friend Heracles.
All the Argonauts went searching, calling as they went through the
island, “Hylas, Hylas, Hylas!” But only their own calls came back to them.
The morning star came up, and Tiphys, the steersman, called to them from
the _Argo_. And when they came to the ship Tiphys told them that they
would have to go aboard and make ready to sail from that place.
They called to Heracles, and Heracles at last came down to the ship.
They spoke to him, saying that they would have to sail away. Heracles
would not go on board. “I will not leave this island,” he said, “until I
find young Hylas or learn what has happened to him.”
Then Jason arose to give the command to depart. But before the words
were said Telamon stood up and faced him. “Jason,” he said angrily, “you
do not bid Heracles come on board, and you would have the _Argo_ leave
without him. You would leave Heracles here so that he may not be with us
on the quest where his glory might overshadow your glory, Jason.”
Jason said no word, but he sat back on his bench with head bowed. And
then, even as Telamon said these angry words, a strange figure rose up out
of the waves of the sea.
It was the figure of a man, wrinkled and old, with seaweed in his beard
and his hair. There was a majesty about him, and the Argonauts all knew
that this was one of the immortals—he was Nereus, the ancient one of the
sea.
“To Heracles, and to you, the rest of the Argonauts, I have a thing to
say,” said the ancient one, Nereus. “Know, first, that Hylas has been
taken by the nymphs who love him and who think to win his love, and that
he will stay forever with them in their cold and glimmering cave. For
Hylas seek no more. And to you, Heracles, I will say this: Go aboard the
_Argo_ again; the ship will take you to where a great labor awaits you,
and which, in accomplishing, you will work out the will of Zeus. You will
know what this labor is when a spirit seizes on you.” So the ancient one
of the sea said, and he sank back beneath the waves.
Heracles went aboard the _Argo_ once more, and he took his place on the
bench, the new oar in his hand. Sad he was to think that young Hylas who
used to sit at his knee would never be there again. The breeze filled the
sail, the Argonauts pulled at the oars, and in sadness they watched the
island where young Hylas had been lost to them recede from their view.
VII. King Phineus
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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