Then might Nestor have missed his going to Troy and his part in that story, for the boar swerved around and was upon him in an instant. Using his spear as a leaping pole he vaulted upward and caught the branches of a tree as the monster dashed the spear down in its rush. In rage the beast tore at the trunk of the tree. The heroes might have been scattered at this moment, for Telamon had fallen, tripped by the roots of a tree, and Peleus had had to throw himself upon him to pull him out of the way of danger, if Polydeuces and Castor had not dashed up to their aid. They came riding upon high white horses, spears in their hands. The brothers cast their spears, but neither spear struck the monster boar. Then the boar turned and was for drawing back into the thicket. They might have lost it then, for its retreat was impenetrable. But before it got clear away Atalanta put an arrow to the string, drew the bow to her shoulder, and let the arrow fly. It struck the boar, and a patch of blood was seen upon its bristles. Prince Meleagrus shouted out, “O first to strike the monster! Honor indeed shall you receive for this, Arcadian maid.” His uncles were made wroth by this speech, as was another, the Arcadian, rough Arcas. Arcas dashed forward, holding in his hands a two-headed axe. “Heroes and huntsmen,” he cried, “you shall see how a man’s strokes surpass a girl’s.” He faced the boar, standing on tiptoe with his axe raised for the stroke. Meleagrus’s uncles shouted to encourage him. But the boar’s tusks tore him before Arcas’s axe fell, and the Arcadian was trampled upon the ground. The boar, roused again by Atalanta’s arrow, turned on the hunters. Jason hurled a spear again. It swerved and struck a hound and pinned it to the ground. Then, speaking the name of Atalanta, Meleagrus sprang before the heroes and the huntsmen. He had two spears in his hands. The first missed and stuck quivering in the ground. But the second went right through the back of the monster boar. It whirled round and round, spouting out blood and foam. Meleagrus pressed on, and drove his hunting knife through the shoulders of the monster. His uncles, Plexippus and Toxeus, were the first to come to where the monster boar was lying outstretched. “It is well, the deed you have done, boy,” said one; “it is well that none of the strangers to our country slew the boar. Now will the head and tusks of the monster adorn our hall, and men will know that the arms of our house can well protect this land.” But one word only did Meleagrus say, and that word was the name, “Atalanta.” The maiden came and Meleagrus, his spear upon the head, said, “Take, O fair Arcadian, the spoil of the chase. All know that it was you who inflicted the first wound upon the boar.” Plexippus and Toxeus tried to push him away, as if Meleagrus was still a boy under their tutoring. He shouted to them to stand off, and then he hacked out the terrible tusks and held them toward Atalanta.