It was from her father that Theria heard of the beautiful coming of her own ancestors to Delphi, men brought by Apollo himself to be his worshippers. “They were in a ship on a trading voyage,” Nikander would relate, “those ancestors of ours, bold young men, unafraid of the sea, for they were Cretan islanders. When suddenly there leaped out of the waves a Dolphin, golden and bright, and lay on their deck. At once the wind changed, speeding them toward the west. They tried to shift their sails but not one whit could they shift their course. The men were sore afraid for they knew they were in the hands of a god.” “The Dolphin god,” Theria would murmur with Wide eyes. “Yes, the Delphian,” her father made the age-old pun. “And they saw the immortal creature shimmer with rainbow colours never ceasing. So the strong wind blew them against their will first westward then northward into our own lovely gulf and to our port of Krissa. Here the ship stopped, held by immortal hands. “Then at once the Dolphin disappeared and in his stead stood a young man strong and beautiful with golden locks out-sprayed upon the winds and eyes whose light was as the dawn of day.” Theria would clap her hands softly, saying, “And he leaped upon the shore, our dear Apollo, and beckoned the men with his hand.” She knew the tale by heart. Nikander would continue, smiling: “And Apollo, lightly stepping, playing upon his heavenly lyre, led the Cretans hither, right by the place where our house now stands and up to the ‘place of golden tripods’ yonder. “‘This is to be yours,’ he told the Cretans. ‘Here shall ye serve my oracle.’ “Then the Cretans looked about them. They saw the sterile cliffs and rocky hillsides on which nothing would grow. And they asked in apprehension: “‘How can we live in this place, O Lord Apollo? Here will no grain grow, no cattle find fodder. Here we cannot fish.’” The children laughed at this. “Fish! O foolish, foolish Cretans!” “Yes, foolish Cretans. So Apollo called them. ‘Do ye so love to delve in the earth, and sweat? Do ye so love to be buffeted by salt water and bitter winds? A secret I will tell you! Sit ye here, attend my worship, and all the nations of the earth shall bring you gifts. My altars shall smoke with the fat of lambs, my temples glow with golden things. But your duty shall be to guard my temple and to receive kindly in my name the tribes of men who gather here. “‘But if any of you ill-treat the stranger, if ye do violence or speak harsh words, then shall others be your masters and make you slaves for ever.’” “But we will never be slaves?” Theria would inquire anxiously. “We will never do those wicked deeds and be slaved?” “No, never.” Nikander would kiss the child who cuddled so close in his arms and then with yet more fondness kiss his son Dryas.