Priest on donkey"PAPA PETRO CAME RIDING DOWN FROM HIS HOUSE ON A TINY DONKEY."
"PAPA PETRO CAME RIDING DOWN FROM HIS HOUSE ON A TINY DONKEY."
Maria had made her visit at Church on the fortieth day after the baby was born and Papa Petro had taken the little angel in his arms and walked thrice around the altar with him. Now the time had come when the good old priest was to christen the baby, and all the relatives and friends assembled to see the ceremony.
Papa Petro came riding down from his house on a tiny donkey. He was a dear old man with a wise, kindly face. He had been all his priestly life over the one parish, and his people were dear to him. They in turn loved him devotedly and he was always welcomed joyfully at any festivity.
Before the christening he blessed the house, performing theagiasmoor blessing, with great earnestness. First he took off his tall hat and let down his hair which was long and snowy white and usually worn in a knob at the back of his head. Then he set a basin of water and some incense before theeikonwhich was hungin a corner of the room. Every Grecian home has itseikonor picture of a saint or the Blessed Virgin. The incense he placed in a bowl and lighted it, the smoke rising and filling the room with a strong perfume. He read the prayers which keep off the evil spirits in an impressive manner, and then turned his attention to the christening.
Baby Mathos, very cunning in his new cap, was set down before theeikonwhich bore the pictured face of the saint to whom he was to be dedicated. That was the signal for all the women present to rush for his cap, the one who secured the coveted bit of lace and muslin being the godmother. Zoe was the lucky one, and she stood proudly up beside Maria and the godfather, who had been Mathos' best man. Thenounos[8]had given baby his fine new dress and had come prepared for all that a godfather must do.
The babycoula was then undressed and held up to the priest in Zoe's proud arms for Papa Petro to cut three hairs from the tiny head and throw them into the baptismal font. This was filled with water into which the godfather had poured a little olive oil.
Baby Mathos was then held to the west, to represent the kingdom of darkness, and Papa Petro asked three times, "Do you renounce the devil and all his works?" To this the godfather replied, "I do renounce them." At this the priest and godfather turned toward the east with the baby and the baby was plunged three times into the water. Baby squealed and kicked, and Zoe smiled, for if a baby does not cry at the water it is very bad luck, showing that the Evil One has not gone out of him. The babycoula did his little best to assure the company that he had no evil spirit left within, howling wrathfully after he was dried and anointed with holy oils, refusing to stop even when prayedover at length, only smiling when, the ceremony over, thenounosgave somedrachmasto his parents and threw a whole handful oflepta[9]among the children present.
"He is generous with his witness money," whispered Zoe to Maria and she smiled happily.
"Our little one will have the best of godparents," Maria said sweetly. "You to love him and Loukas to think of his welfare."
Papa Petro dipped an olive branch in holy water and sprinkled the rooms of the little cottage, then he sat down beside Maria, tied up his hair and took a cup of coffee. Everyone was served to glasses of water and sweets and everybody talked and laughed and said what a beautiful little Christian the babycoula was! As each one admired the baby Maria coloured and looked anxious and fingered the blue beads about her darling's neck.
"What have you for a charm against the evileye?" asked Papa Petro, kindly. "Ah, I see, the blue beads. Well, that is good. Blue is the Blessed Virgin's colour and the Panageia[10]will be your help. However, I have brought you a bit of crooked coral which I have always found good."
"It is most kind of you," said Maria prettily, as she hung the precious spray of coral at the babycoula's throat. Zoe smiled to herself. She had not intended to run any risk that her cousin's little baby should be marked with the evil eye, which can be put on a child just by admiring it. So, for the baby was so pretty she had felt sure it would be admired all day, she had put a bit of soot behind his ear, for that will ward off any evil eye. It is a sure charm. Therefore she felt quite satisfied even though every one present did say that the baby was perfectly beautiful. Then she held the little thing up before a mirror, for that would insureanother baby in the family before the close of the year, and as the Grecians love children dearly they are glad to have many of them.
The baby had so many pieces of white stuff given to him that the little house looked as if it had been in a snow storm. No polite person would come to see a new baby and not give it something white, even if it were only an egg, for such a gift insures to the infant a lovely fair complexion.
Thus was Baby Mathos started on his journey as a Christian with all good omens, and his little godmother went home in the cool of the evening, happy in all of the pleasures of the day.
"It was lovely, Aunt Anna!" she said to her aunt. "Was it not? Maria's baby is a dear little fellow. He is my own godchild and I love him dearly, but of course not more than our own babycoula," and she buried her face in Baby Domna's neck. The baby crowed and cooed and patted Zoe's face with her tiny chubbyhands and pulled her hair and acted in the entrancing way in which only a baby can act and Zoe laughed back at her and hugged her tight.
"You're my own babycoula," she said. "And I love you better than anything."
"Better than you do me? Oh shame!" said Marco teasing, while Aunt Anna, like every other good mother pleased with the attention her baby received, smiled upon her. Marco, however, looked very solemn and said reproachfully,
"I thought you would never like any baby better than me!"
"But you are not a baby," said Zoe, and Aunt Anna said,
"I am not so sure that he is not. But do not mind him, he is only teasing. You are a good child, Zoe," and little Zoe went happily to bed her heart warm at the thought that everybody seemed to love her, if she was an orphan and far away from home.
"It is only love that counts," she murmuredto herself sleepily and fell asleep with a smile on her face, as the silver moon streamed through her window and the air came in soft and kind, fragrant with the breath of spring.
Thewinter passed quietly to Zoe and spring came with its glories of cloud and flower and sunshine. Men began to plough in the fields with quaint old-fashioned, one-handled ploughs, drawn by great strong oxen. Snows still crested Ossa and Pelion, and beautiful Olympus, in snow-crowned grandeur golden in the morning's glow, turned to rose in the evening sunset.
Marco had gone far up the mountain side to herd for a rich farmer who had many goats. He watched the herds all day and, when they were safely housed for the night, camped in a rough little hut on the hillside.
Zoe missed him from the cottage, for of all her cousins she most loved Marco. She was veryhappy therefore when her Aunt Anna told her one day that she might carry a basket of food to the mountain.
She started off happily, running along the village street into the open country, going more slowly up the hillside, where the early wildflowers were beginning to bloom.
She reached the little hut where Marco slept, nearly at sundown but he was not there, so she sat down to wait for him. The sun was streaming in a golden glory and the Vale of Tempe opened before her as fair as when the god Apollo slept beneath its elms and oaks, wild figs and plane trees. Zoe loved everything beautiful and she sat and looked eagerly at the lovely scene.
"It is almost as pretty as my own Argolis," she said aloud, and then gave a little sigh.
"Still homesick, little one?" Marco's voice said close behind her, and she sprang to her feet in astonishment. He seemed to have sprung from the ground, so quickly had he come upon her.
"Oh, Marco!" she said. "I did not hear you come. I am so glad to see you. It has been lonely at home without you."
"I have missed you, too. It is good of you to come to see me," he said.
"Aunt Anna sent me with fresh cheese and eggs and bread for your supper," she told him. "This is a beautiful place isn't it, Marco?"
"It is indeed," he answered. "Like a fine old man, Mt. Olympus always has snow upon his head. See how the clouds float about the summit; you know that was the home of the gods in the old days. 'Not by wind is it shaken nor ever wet with rain, but cloudless upper air is spread about it and a bright radiance floats over it.'"
"Papa Petro says we must not talk of the gods of olden times, for they were heathen," said Zoe primly. "But they were interesting. Where did you learn so much, Marco?"
"It is not much I know," he said with alaugh. "But when I was in Athens I took service with a man from America. He knew much. He read ancient Greek and when I told him I was a Grecian from near Mt. Olympus, he asked many questions about Thessaly and the way we live here. In return he told me much of our Ancient Grecian stories. He told me of Jason and his adventures after the Golden Fleece, of Perseus and Theseus and many others."
"Tell me some of them," demanded Zoe eagerly.
"Well, Perseus was the son of Danae, and a god was his father. He was taller and stronger and handsomer than any of the princes of the court and the king hated him. But Pallas Athene, the beautiful goddess of wisdom, loved him and helped him and took him under her protection. She gave him a task to perform, to rid the land of the horrible Gorgon Medusa, whose hair was a thousand snakes and whoseface was so horrible that no man could look upon it and live. That Medusa might not kill Perseus, Athene gave him a magic shield and told him to look into the shield and seeing there the Gorgon's image, strike! He was to wrap the head in a goat's skin and bring it back. She gave him also Herme, the magic sword, and sandals with which he might cross the sea and even float through the air. They would guide him, too, for they knew the way and could not lose the path.
"So Perseus started out, and he flew through the air like a bird. And many were the dangers which he met, but all he overcame. Far was the journey, but he made it with a light heart. He went until he came to Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, and of his daughters, the gentle Hesperides, he asked his way. And they said to him, 'You must have the hat of darkness so that you can see but not be seen.'
"'And where is that hat?' he asked. And Atlas said to him,
"'No mortal can find it, but if you will promise me one thing, I will send one of my daughters, the Hesperides for it.'
"'I will promise,' said Perseus. 'If it is a thing I may do.'
"'When you have cut off the Gorgon's head, which turns all who see it into stone,' said Atlas, 'promise me that you will bring it here that I may see it and turn to stone. For I must hold up the world till the end of time, and my arms and legs are so weary that I should be glad never to feel again.' So Perseus promised, and one of the Hesperides brought him the hat of darkness, which she found in the region of Hades. Then Perseus went on and on until at last he came to the Gorgons' lair. And he put on the hat of darkness and came close to the evil beasts. There were three of them, but Medusa was the worst, for he saw in the mirror that herhead was covered with vipers. He struck her quickly with his sword, cut off her head and wrapped it in the goat's skin. Then, flying upward with his magic sandals, he fled from the wrath of the other two Gorgons, who followed fast. They could not catch him, for the sandals bore him too swiftly. Remembering his promise he came to Atlas, and Atlas looked but once upon the face of Medusa and he was turned to stone. They say that there he sits to this day, holding up the earth. Then Perseus said farewell to the Hesperides, thanking them, and he turned away toward his home.
"He flew over mountains and valleys by sea and land for weary days and nights. As he came to the water of the blue Aegean sea, there he found a strange thing, for, chained to a rock, was a maiden, beautiful as day, who wept and called aloud to her mother.
"'What are you doing here?' demanded Perseus, and she answered,
"'Fair youth, I am chained here to be a victim to the Sea God, who comes at daybreak to devour me. Men call me Andromeda, and my mother boasted that I was fairer than the queen of the fishes, so that the queen is angry and has sent storm and earthquake upon my people. They sacrifice me thus to appease her wrath. Depart, for you can be of no help to me and I would not that you see the monster devour me.'
"'I shall help you, and that right promptly,' said Perseus, who loved her for her beauty and her sweetness. So he took his sword and cut her chains in two, and he took her in his arms and said,
"'You are the fairest maiden I have ever seen. I shall free you from this monster and then you shall be my wife.' And she smiled upon him, for she loved him for his strength and for his brave words.
"The sea monster was a fearful beast. His jaws were wide open and his tail lashed thewaters as he rushed toward the maiden. She screamed and hid her face, but Perseus dropped down from the rock, right on the monster's back, and slew him with his gleaming sword. Then Perseus took Andromeda and flew to her home, and her parents received him with joy, giving him their daughter and begging him to stay with them. That he could not do, because of his promise to Pallas Athene. So he took his bride, and her father gave him a great ship and he returned to his mother like a hero, with his galley and much gold and treasure, the marriage portion of Andromeda. The wicked king was not glad to see him and would have had him killed, but Perseus held up to him the head of Medusa and it turned the king to stone. Then Perseus reigned in his stead, and one night in a dream Pallas Athene came to him and said,
"'You have kept your promise and brought back the Gorgon's head. Give back to me the sword, the sandals, the shield and the hat ofdarkness, that I may give each to whom it belongs.' And when he awoke they were all gone.
"Then he went home to his own land of Argos and there he lived in happiness with Andromeda, and they had fair sons and daughters, and men say that when they died they were borne by the gods to the heavens, and that there one can still see, on fair nights of summer, Andromeda and her deliverer Perseus."
"Oh!" exclaimed Zoe, with a long drawn breath of delight. "What a lovely story! But, Marco, why don't people do such brave things as that now days?"
"There are just as brave men now as there were in the old times," said Marco, his eyes kindling. "In my regiment they tell a story of a Grecian soldier in our War for Independence. Beside him marched a comrade, a man from his own island. They had played together as boys and had always been friends. But the otherfellow had married the girl whom Spiro loved, and he had a sore heart about that. The regiment was up in the mountains and was attacked by the Turks and Spiro's friend captured. Spiro wept, but that was not all. He went to his captain and begged that he might be sent to the Turks in exchange for his friend. His captain said it was impossible, that the Turks would not accept him in exchange, but would kill both. Spiro said, 'My captain, if they did accept me it would be well. Let me go.'
"'You are a silly fellow,' said the captain. 'I cannot give you any permission. If you can get word to the Turks and they will accept you, then you may go.' This he said because he was sure the Turks would but laugh at such an idea of Spiro. But Spiro thanked him with tears of joy. Then he went to a man in the regiment who could write. 'Will you write a letter just as I say it?' he asked and his friend said that he would. Here is the letter,
"'To the most noble general of the Turks,' it began,"'I am Spiro Rhizares of the —— Grecian Infantry. I salute your Worship. You have captured a man of my regiment, one Yanne Petropoulas. He is a better man than I am but I am good enough to kill. I am taller than he so there is more of me to die. He has a wife and I have not, so there is more need for him to live. Wives take money; he should not be killed, for then there is no one to buy bread and garlic and embroidered kerchiefs for Evangoula. She is a good wife, but even good women must have loukoumi and coloured kerchiefs to keep them good. I ask you therefore to have the great kindness to kill me,Effendi, in place of Yanne, and I think he would not object. If therefore, your Worship will consent send me word, but do not speak of it to Yanne, since he might feel a disappointment that he might not die for his country at your most worshipful hands. Askingyour Graciousness to send me word when I shall have to the pleasure to be killed, I sign myself, through the hands of a comrade, since I am too ignorant a fellow to write (you see I am fit only to kill),With respect,"'Spiro Rhizares.'
"'To the most noble general of the Turks,' it began,
"'I am Spiro Rhizares of the —— Grecian Infantry. I salute your Worship. You have captured a man of my regiment, one Yanne Petropoulas. He is a better man than I am but I am good enough to kill. I am taller than he so there is more of me to die. He has a wife and I have not, so there is more need for him to live. Wives take money; he should not be killed, for then there is no one to buy bread and garlic and embroidered kerchiefs for Evangoula. She is a good wife, but even good women must have loukoumi and coloured kerchiefs to keep them good. I ask you therefore to have the great kindness to kill me,Effendi, in place of Yanne, and I think he would not object. If therefore, your Worship will consent send me word, but do not speak of it to Yanne, since he might feel a disappointment that he might not die for his country at your most worshipful hands. Askingyour Graciousness to send me word when I shall have to the pleasure to be killed, I sign myself, through the hands of a comrade, since I am too ignorant a fellow to write (you see I am fit only to kill),
With respect,"'Spiro Rhizares.'
"This letter Spiro sent through the mountain passes by a shepherd boy and awaited an answer. At last one came. It was short.
"'To one Spiro Rhizares, —th, Grecian Infantry."'Sir:—Since you are wishing to feel the edge of a Turkish scimiter, come and be killed. When you are dead your friend shall go free. This on the honour of a Turk. I promise because I know you will not come. You thought to work on my heart. I have no heart for Greeks. As we will kill all your men in a few months, you may as well die now if you like. Your friend I will send back.(Signed)Selim Pasha.'
"'To one Spiro Rhizares, —th, Grecian Infantry.
"'Sir:—Since you are wishing to feel the edge of a Turkish scimiter, come and be killed. When you are dead your friend shall go free. This on the honour of a Turk. I promise because I know you will not come. You thought to work on my heart. I have no heart for Greeks. As we will kill all your men in a few months, you may as well die now if you like. Your friend I will send back.
(Signed)Selim Pasha.'
"Spiro was like a fellow mad with joy. He sent all his money to Evangoula, gave his things to his comrades, and, lest he be hindered, stole off in the night. He reached the Turkish camp and smilingly asked to die quickly that Yanne might quickly go home. But the Turks had other ideas. They tried to buy Spiro to talk about his regiment and tell secrets of the army, promising that both he and his comrade should live, but he said only that he came to die and not to talk, and they could get nothing out of him though they tried in many ways. So at last they cut off his head and set Yanne free. He was in a terrible rage. He said that he never would have consented had they told him. But they only laughed at him and set him outside the camp. And he came back to the regiment, but he was not happy. He grieved for Spiro and made himself ill. Then the captain spoke with him. He told Yanne that Spiro had died for him and that now he must make the life thatSpiro had saved of some account. His time in the army was nearly up. He should go home and care for his wife and thus do what Spiro would wish.
"'This will be the only way to win happiness,' said the captain. 'For if you do not do this, your wife will say that Spiro was the better man and that he should not have died, but you.' And Yanne wept, but he did what the captain had said. And that is the end of the story. But all the regiment drink to the eternal health of Spiro Rhizares, the hero."
"Oh, the brave splendid fellow!" cried Zoe. "Indeed, he was as poor, as Perseus. That is the nicest story I ever heard. Thank you so much for telling it to me.
"How did there come to be war with Turkey, Marco?"
"That is a long story, child, but one that you should know. Once, you know, Greece included Macedonia and all the strip of land along thesea as far as Constantinople. But the Turks always wanted Greece and in the year 1453 they came down upon us in a frightful war and took the land. The Turkish rule was horrible. Their rulers knew nothing but to wring money out of our poor people and many Grecians fled to the mountains and becameklephts.[11]These fought always against the Turks and kept ever within them the spirit of freedom. At last they formed the Hetaeria, or Revolutionary Secret Society, and soon Greece was fighting for her independence. Such terrible battles as came; such heroes as there were! It makes one want to shout at the very name of Marco Bozzaris, who surprised the Turks one night at Karpenisi and overcame them.
"Our people fought like the ancient heroes, but they could not get money to carry on the war. The Turks brought in hordes of soldiers; Greece was plundered and burned; people starved bythe roadside, women and children were murdered. At last the nations of Europe said that such things could no longer be, and they joined together to compel the Turks to allow Greece to be free. This the Turks did not wish to do; but France, Russia and England compelled them to permit Greece to have her own government. The Turks gave us back a part of our country and a king was chosen to reign over us.
"This was better than belonging to Turkey, but it was not enough. We wanted all the land that belonged to us and this we could not get. The island of Crete especially wanted to be Grecian but the Turks would not let it go.
"At last in 1897, came the war in Macedonia, in which our poor soldiers were shot down by the hundred and we had to turn our backs upon the foe. It was then that Spiro Rhizares fought and died, and many, many splendid fellowsas brave as he. It was a terrible war, Little One. War is easy when a man marches toward the foe. He is never tired or hungry or footsore. But when he is ordered back and must march away, his knapsack grows heavier at each step; he is hungry and cold and weary, and his heart is within him like lead. Our men could have fought like heroes and Macedonia would now be ours; but the orders came always, 'Retreat! Back to Velestino!' and what could they do?
"The Powers forbade the Turks to conquer further, or we might be slaves again. Never mind, the day will come when every Grecian shall arm himself, and the detestable Turks shall be swept from our borders and all Greece shall once more be free!"
Marco's eye kindled and his face flushed.
"Thank you so much for telling me about it, Marco, I hope you'll never have to go to fight, but I wish Greece could have all the landthat belongs to her. I am afraid I must go now. Aunt Anna will be displeased if I am late. It is growing dark. Are you not afraid all alone here in the mountains?"
"Afraid of what, Little One?" asked Marco, his hand on the hunting-knife which he carried in the soft sash at his waist. "You see I am not alone, I have a good friend here."
"Yes, but you might see a bear or a brigand!" she said. "Oh, Marco, what is that?" A tall figure appeared as she spoke from out of the rocks above them. "It is a brigand I am sure!" she whispered and clung close to her cousin.
"Nonsense," he answered. "Nobody ever sees brigands now, Zoe," but as he spoke he tightened his grasp on his dagger and put his arm around his cousin, for every Grecian knows there are brigands in the mountains of Thessaly, though they are much less frequently seen than they used to be.
Zoe gave a frightened gasp, "It is, I know it is!Pana yea,[12]save me!" she said as the stranger approached, but Marco said pleasantly,
"Kalos orsesate!"[13]
Thestranger replied to Marco with "Tee Kamnete"[14]and came up close to them. Zoe blessed herself and said not a word.
"Kala,"[15]Marco said briefly, and the stranger said,
"It is late for you and your sister to be on the mountain. She is a pretty child."
"Na meen avosgothees,"[16]whispered Marco to Zoe, then to the stranger, "Not later than for you."
"But I have business here," he said with a smile.
soldier standing before man and boy"STOOD BEFORE THEM IN THE BEAUTIFUL NATIONAL COSTUME OF GREECE."
"STOOD BEFORE THEM IN THE BEAUTIFUL NATIONAL COSTUME OF GREECE."
"And so have we," and Marco's tone was a little curt.
"My business is to eat supper," said the man. "Will you join me?"
Marco was surprised, but Zoe whispered, "Do not make him angry," so he said,
"Thank you. Zoe has brought me to eat also. Will you not share with us?"
"We will eat together," said the stranger, so they seated themselves upon the green grass and Marco took from the basket Zoe had brought, black bread and cheese for all three.
"This is the best I have, but I am glad to give," he said, for he thought to himself, "He has not a bad face now that one sees him close. In any case it is best to be civil, for bees are not caught with sour wine."
The stranger threw aside his cloak and stood before them in the beautiful national costume of Greece. Zoe thought that she had never seen anything so fine as his clothes.He wore a white shirt, a little black jacket andfustanellas, the full white petticoat reaching to the knees, to which Grecian men cling in spite of the fact that it can be soiled in ten minutes while it takes a woman almost as many hours to make it clean again.
He carried a leather bag over one shoulder, and from this he took a parcel, seating himself beside Zoe and opening it with a gay smile.
"I did not think this morning, when I had this put up, that I should eat it with so dear a little girl," he said. "Perhaps I should have put in Syrianloukoumihad I known that you would be here instead ofhalva[17]andtarama.[18]Should I not?"
"Halvais very nice," said Zoe shyly. "And I have never tastedloukoumiof Syria."
"Have you not? Poor child! Tell mewhere you live and I will send you a packet of it."
"I live in Karissa, near to Volo," said Zoe with a sweet smile. "The gentleman takes too much trouble."
"I shall certainly do it," he said, "unless I am wrestling with Charos."[19]
"When your soul shall be a Petalouda[20]and your dust shall become myrrh," said Zoe. "On the third day I shall carry raw wheat and a candle to Papa Petro, that he may say prayers for you."
"You are an angel of a child!" there were tears in the man's eyes. "It matters little when Charos comes, since God sends Charos to take souls. It is well if we leave behind us some grateful hearts to say 'may your dust become myrrh.' Come, let us eat. Here isa bottle ofresinato,[21]bread andtarama, with olives and garlic andhalvafor dessert. It is a feast for the gods, yet the best Christian may eat it in Lent."
They ate, the two men chatting together, Zoe listening in silence. It had been long since she had seen such a feast, for bread and eggs were often all that was to be had in her aunt's house, and sometimes there were no eggs.
They sat beneath a giant tree on a carpet of maiden-hair fern; scarlet anemones and heath, orchids and iris bloomed beside them, and the silver tinkle of a waterfall came softly through the evening air. The fragrance of violets was there, and a few early asphodel raised their star-like blooms toward heaven.
"There is no place in all the world like Greece," said the stranger, as he looked down over the beautiful valley. "It was near tohere that Cheiron's cave lay, and one can almost see Olympus, home of the gods."
"Who was Cheiron?" asked Zoe.
"Do you not know the story of the Golden Fleece?" said the stranger. "Shall I tell it while we eat?"
"Oh, if you only would?" cried Zoe, and he began.
"Long, long ago, when the gods lived on Olympus, there was a cave in the depths of old Mount Pelion and it was called the cave of Cheiron, the Centaur. Cheiron was a strange being, half horse and half man, for he had the legs of a horse but the upper part of his body was that of a man. He was wise and kind and men called him 'the Teacher.' Many men sent their sons to him to be taught, for he knew not only all the things of war, but music and to play the lyre, and of all the healing herbs, so that he could cure the wounds of men. Among his pupils was a lad named Jason, whose fatherwas Æson, king of Iolcos, by the sea. The wicked brother of Æson had cast him forth from his kingdom, and fearing that Jason would be killed, the father left the lad with Cheiron. Cheiron taught him much, and he learned quickly. He learned to wrestle and box, to ride and hunt, to wield the sword, to play the lyre, and even all that Cheiron knew of healing herbs Jason learned. Jason was happy with Cheiron and loved him, and the youths who dwelt in the Centaur's cave, these he loved as brothers. He was quite content until one day he looked forth over the plains of Thessaly to the south, and as he saw the white-walled town beside the sea, something stirred within him, and he said to Cheiron,
"'There lies my home. Now I am grown, I am a hero's son, let me go forth and take my heritage from that bad man who cast forth my father, for I know that one day I shall be king in Iolcos.'
"'That day is far, far away,' said Cheiron, who could read the future. 'But it will come. Eagles fly from the nest, so must you fly hence. Go, but promise me this. Speak kindly to each one that you meet and keep always your promises.'
"'I promise you and I will perform,' said Jason, and he bade Cheiron farewell. Then he hurried down the mountain-side, through the sweet-smelling groves where grew the wild thyme and arbutus, beyond the vineyards green in the sun, and the olive groves in fragrant bloom. He came to the river bank, a stream swollen with spring rains and foaming to the sea. Upon the bank was an old woman, wrinkled and gray, and she cried to Jason,
"'Good sir, carry me across this stream.'
"Jason looked at her, and at first he thought to leave her, for the stream was broad and it roared over cruel rocks and was heavy with themountain's melting snow. But she cried pitifully,
"'Fair youth, for Hera's sake, carry me across.'
"Now Hera was queen of all the gods who lived on Olympus, and Jason said,
"'For Hera's sake will I do much. Cling upon my back and I will carry you across. That I promise you.' Then he remembered Cheiron's word and was glad he had answered her softly. He struggled through the foam, but the old woman was heavy and she clung about his neck and seemed to grow heavier. He buffeted the waves and struggled, and twice he thought he must let the old woman go, but he remembered his promise and held her fast, and at last he reached the farther shore and scrambled up the bank. And as he gently set his burden down, lo! she was a fair young woman, and she smiled upon him and said,
"'I am that Hera for whose sake you have done this deed of kindness. I will repay you, for whenever you need help call upon me, and I will not forget you.' Then she rose up from the earth into the clouds, and with awe and wonder, Jason watched her fade from his sight.
"Then he went on to Iolchis, but he walked slowly, for he had lost one sandal in the flood. He went into the city and spoke with the king, demanding his realm, and the king was afraid of him, for soothsayers had foretold that a man wearing one sandal should take the kingdom away from him.
"But the king spoke to him kindly and gave him food, and said to him, 'Your father gave me the kingdom of his own free will. See him and ask him if this is not true.' Jason said that he would do so, and he ate with his uncle, and at last the king said,
"'There is a man in my kingdom whomI am afraid will cause me trouble if he stays here. What would you do with him were you I? I ask because I know you are wise.'
"'I think I would send him to bring home the Golden Fleece,' said Jason.
"'Will you go?' said the king, and Jason saw that he was caught in a trap, and that his uncle had meant him.
"'I will go, and when I return I will take the kingdom,' he said, and straightway he made ready. He made sacrifice to Hera, for in those days people killed a lamb in honour of the gods, as we to-day burn a candle at a shrine. Then he fitted up a ship and sent word to all those princes who had been with him in Cheiron's cave that they come with him on this glorious quest. And they came and all the youths set forth upon a mighty ship. Of the many things that happened to them I have no time to tell, but at last Jason came to the shores of Cutaia, where the Colchians lived. There was theGolden Fleece, but guarded so that no man might take it. There it had been for many years, since King Phrixus had slain the Golden Ram and offered it in sacrifice, and since then all the world had longed to possess the wonderful Golden Fleece.
"Medea, the king's daughter, saw Jason, and loved him because he was fearless and brave. She was a witch and she helped him with her witchcraft, giving him a magic salve with which he rubbed himself so that no weapon could hurt him, and his strength was as the strength of mighty hills. He who would possess the Fleece must first wrestle with two terrible bulls, then he must sow serpent's teeth in a ploughed field. From the teeth sprang up a field of armed men, and these must be overcome, and then the deadly serpent which guarded the Fleece must be slain. All these things Medea's magic helped Jason to do. He fought with the bulls and conquered them;he harnessed them to the plough and ploughed the field. He hewed down the armed men as if they were stalks of wheat and last of all he sought to slay the serpent. Orpheus, who had been with Jason in Cheiron's cave, went with him to the tree where hung the Golden Fleece. He was the sweetest singer in all the world, and he played soft and sweet upon his lyre and sang of sleep, and the serpent closed his eyes and slumber stole upon him. Then Jason stepped across his body and tore the Fleece from the tree, and he and Orpheus and Medea fled to the ship and away they sailed to Greece again."
As he finished a sudden sound reached their ears and Marco sprang to his feet.
"A wolf is at my goats!" he cried. "I must go. Zoe, fly quickly down the mountain; but no—it is too late for you to go alone, there are wild beasts abroad. You should not have stayed so late!"
"Go quickly to your goats, Marco. That is your duty. I shall be safe, for I shall pray to the saints and the Holy Virgin, and I shall run very fast."
"Go to your herd, good shepherd, and I will take your sister home," said the stranger, putting up the remains of his meal, but Marco did not look reassured. He looked helplessly from one to the other. "I may be out all night," he said, when another squeal, sharp and shrill, came through the air.
"Go at once, Marco, I shall be quite safe with this gentleman," said Zoe.
"I will promise that she shall go straight home," said the stranger, and Marco unwillingly turned to the mountain.
Zoe and her strange companion walked hastily down the steep path which led to the village.
"Child," said the stranger, "why did you tell your brother to go? Are you not afraid of me?"
"He is not my brother, but my cousin, and I am not at all afraid," she said.
"But you were afraid at first," he said. "You thought I was a brigand."
"That was before I had seen your face," said the little girl. "And now that I have seen you and heard you talk, I know that you are not."
"How do you know?" he asked.
"You are a good man, because you keep the Lenten fast, you speak well of God and you are kind to a little girl. So I know you have a white heart. You may perhaps be a brigand, but you are a good one."
He threw back his head and laughed aloud.
"You are a strange little one," he said. "Tell me your name."
"I am Zoe Averoff, of Argolis."
"Zoe Averoff of Argolis! Child, what are you doing here?"
She looked at him in wonder as she answered,"My mother is dead, my father is gone and comes no more; he must be dead too. I live here with my uncle, the father of Marco."
The stranger's eyes were fixed upon her and she saw them fill with hot tears.
"Child," he said, "I believe you are my little niece. I am Andreas Averoff, and your father was my brother. I feared that I would fail to find you, since all they could tell me at your old home was that you had gone to Thessaly. Do you remember me, since I went to your house once long ago?"
"I know that I had an Uncle Andreas," said Zoe, scarce believing her ears. "But I do not remember him."
"I am that uncle," he said, "and I have come to take you with me to my home. I have a wife and son in Argolis, but our little girl we lost. Will you come and be our daughter, or are you too happy here?"
"I am not too happy," said Zoe, "but itwould be hard to leave Marco. He is so good to me."
"Perhaps your Marco will come with us, for I have money and we can find him better things to do than to fly to the mountains with the shepherds each St. George's Day. Now, take me to your home and tell your aunt what has come of your taking tea with a brigand."
Thenext few days seemed to Zoe to pass as in a dream. So many things happened which she had never supposed could come to her, that she was almost dazed. Uncle Andreas was such an energetic person that he carried everything his own way. He silenced all objections to his plans, and before the child fairly knew what was happening she had said good-bye to her Thessalonian relatives, and with her new-found uncle and Marco was sailing out of the harbour of Volo on her uncle's ship. She wept a little at leaving her cousins, especially the babycoula, but that Marco was to be with her robbed the separation of half its sting. The future opened before her with much ofinterest. Unknown lands were to be explored, and to Zoe this in itself was charming.
"Do you feel as if you were setting out to find the Golden Fleece?" asked Marco as the two sat upon the deck and watched the hills of Thessaly fade in the distance, as they sailed over the blue Gulf of Velos.
"I feel very strange and full of wonder as to what will come next," she said.
"Well, Little One," said Uncle Andreas' hearty voice, "what kind of a sailor are you going to make?"
"Oh, I like it on the sea," she answered brightly. "When we came to Thessaly, Mother was very ill, but I was not at all. I love the salt air, the spray and the feel of the wind on my cheek. It is like a kiss."
"Good girl," her uncle smiled at her. "You are just the one to have a sailor uncle. Many a fine sail shall we have together when we reach our own Argolis. Marco shall be a fishermanand we three shall sail and sail in the roughest weather. They do not know the sea who know her only when she is calm. She is most beautiful when angry. Shall you tire of your long voyage?"
"Oh, no, Uncle Andreas, I could sail for ever."
The time passed pleasantly for Marco told Zoe pleasant tales of their own beautiful Greece, and her uncle told of rovings from shore to shore. He had been a sailor for many years and now owned his own sloop, in which he sailed over the Mediterranean with cargoes of currants and lemons. He had had many adventures, had been shipwrecked upon one of the little islands of the sea and in his youth had even sailed to America.
"I do not believe that your father is dead," he said to Zoe one day. "He may have written letters which you have never received, but I think if he were dead we would have heardof it. Some day he will come back or we will go and hunt him up."
Zoe's eyes grew large and tender.
"If my father would only come back," she said, "I should never ask the saints for anything so long as I live. But I know I will be very happy with you and Aunt Angeliké."
"Especially as Marco will be there," laughed her uncle, and Zoe laughed too.
"Marco has been so good to me that I would be a strange girl could I be happy without him," she said.
When they sailed into the Gulf of Athens and, rounding the point, she saw the "City of Sails," as it is called from the many boats in the harbour, the little girl could hardly contain herself. She saw for the first time the wonderful marble buildings of the city of Athens, with the Acropolis and the Areopagus, where gleamed the famous ruins of the Parthenon; and to the child, her mind filled with the lore of the longago, every marble was peopled with heroes, every leaf and bud and bird sang of Pericles and other famous Athenians, as Mt. Olympus and Tempe's Vale had whispered of the gods of old.
Athens is perhaps one of the most interesting cities in the world. The ship anchored in the harbour of Pireas and the three landed in a small boat rowed by Uncle Andreas' stout sailors. Then they drove in a cab between the long rows of pepper trees, Zoe bouncing from one window of the cab to the other in a frantic effort to see both sides of the street at once. The driver drove very fast, calling "Empros!" to any passer who chanced to cross his path, and Zoe wished he would go slowly so that she might see all the wonderful things they passed.
"Oh, Uncle, what is that?" she cried as they passed a procession of men carrying something on a bier.
"It is a funeral," he said.
"Why isn't the coffin covered?" she asked, for as they drew nearer she saw that there was no cover and the dead man lay covered only with flowers.
"The custom of burying the dead without cover arose in the time of the first Turkish war," he said. "The Turks feared that soldiers would get outside of the wall by pretending to be dead and being carried out in coffins. Several famous leaders got out of the city in that manner and stirred up the country people to revolt. So they made a law that people who died must be carried through the streets uncovered and a lid put on the coffin only as it was lowered into the grave. Miserable Turks!" and Uncle Andreas spat on the ground, as every good Grecian does when mentioning the name of his hated enemy. The Turks have always coveted Greece and in the bitter wars between the two countries has been bred a hatred which does not die out as the countries grow older.
"Oh, Marco!" cried Zoe from the other window, "See them cooking in the street! I never heard of such a thing."
"That is quite common," said Marco. "It is not good to have fire in the house, you know, so men make their living by taking stoves around from house to house and cooking whatever people wish for dinner. You see many of the houses are built without any chimneys for the smoke, and when they have stoves in them they have to let the smoke out through a pane of the window. Often it blows back into the room, and so people do not care for stoves. Heat in the house is very bad for the health, you know, so these travelling stove-men make a good living."
"Nearly everything is brought to your door in Athens," said Uncle Andreas. "The street sellers peddle not only everything to eat, but dry goods, notions, hats, shoes, and nearly everything else, from trays hung around their necks."
Suddenly their cab stopped and drew up at the edge of the sidewalk. Zoe wondered what was the matter as she saw the driver take off his cap, and her uncle exclaimed,
"Well, Zoe, you are in luck! Here comes the royal carriage."
"Oh, Uncle, is it the King?" she cried, bouncing up and down with excitement.
"His Majesty, the Queen and Prince Constantine," said her uncle as a handsome carriage drove by. Zoe had a glimpse of a fine-looking man, and a sweet-faced woman gave her a bright smile. Then the cab drove on again and she sat down with a gasp of astonishment.
"Is that all?" she said. "Why, Uncle, it was only a two-horse carriage, and there wasn't any music or soldiers or crowns on their heads or anything!" Her uncle and Marco laughed heartily.
"You are all mixed up, Little One," said Marco. "Crowns on whose head—the horses?Our king is the most democratic monarch in Europe. He often walks around Athens without any one with him at all. He is quite safe, for every one likes him. He likes a joke and does not care at all for fuss and ceremony. They tell a story that one day he was out walking and met an American, who stopped him to ask if it was permitted to see the royal gardens. Of course the American did not know to whom he was talking, but the king said, 'Certainly, sir, I will show them to you;' and he took him all around the gardens, talking with him pleasantly and telling him many interesting things about Athens. At last the American said,
"'What kind of a woman is the queen?'
"'She is beautiful and good as she is beautiful,' answered the king.
"'What about the king?' asked the stranger.
"'Oh, he isn't of much account,' said King George. 'He hasn't done much for the country.'
"'That's strange,' said the American. 'You are the first person I have met in Greece who did not speak well of the king.'
"'Indeed,' said the king with a laugh. 'Well, I know him better than most people.' The man found out afterwards that he had been talking to the king, and he was very much astonished.
"When the king first came to reign," said Uncle Andreas, "people thought he would not be popular. He was a stranger, the son of the King of Denmark, and brother of the Queen of England, but he brought to our country such a magnificent present that our people felt kindly to him from the first. You know the miserable Turks had taken away from us the Ionian Isles, and England had taken them from the Turks and ruled well over them for the years in which they occupied them. When the king came to us he brought to us, a free gift, those beautifulislands, the loss of which every Grecian had mourned for years."
"It is no wonder people like him," said Zoe. "I am so glad I saw him. He has such a nice, kind face, and the queen is lovely."
"She gives much to the poor and is greatly beloved," said Uncle Andreas.
"It should make her very happy to be surrounded by so many who love her," said Zoe softly.
"Angel of a child!" said her uncle. "You shall never be unhappy again if I can help it."
"Oh, I am very happy," she exclaimed. "I was not unhappy at Marco's home, not very," she added truthfully. "Only I wanted my mother, and sometimes I wanted to be where we had been together. I think there are always things we miss, no matter where we are. Now I shall be happy in my own dear Argolis, but I shall still long for my mother and father, and I shall miss the babycoula."
"You will have your cousin Petro to play with," said her uncle. "He is about your age, and will love you like a sister and tease you like a brother. Come, I know that you and Marco are thirsty. Let us stop here and take a cup of coffee."
"That will be nice," said Zoe who had never seen a coffee-house. They got out of the cab in front of a little shop with little tables at which sat a number of people. They sat down to one of the tables and Zoe watched with delight the making of the coffee. Grecian coffee is made in a peculiar way. The coffee-machine has a round brass cylinder which pulverizes the beans till they are fine as powder. A teaspoonful of powder is used to each cup, and the powder is put in a brass dipper with an equal quantity of sugar. To this is added boiling water and the mixture is put over the fire until it boils. Then it is beaten to a froth and boiled again, beaten again, and boiled and beatena third time, when it is a thick and delicious syrup. It is said to contain all the good part of the coffee, and taken in this manner not to be injurious at all. In Greece it is taken in great quantities, and this may account for the fact that one almost never sees a drunken man in Greece. Zoe sipped her coffee with delight and ate theloukoumiand the handful of pistachio nuts served with it. Then as they sat so quietly, there came to Zoe the greatest excitement of her life. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the cafe; men jumped from their seats, the waiters ran to the door, in the street children shouted and waved their caps, as a cab drove up and from it emerged a young man. He was of medium height, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a strong, keen face and an air of great simplicity, seeming rather abashed at the shouts which rang through the air,
"Zito, Loues! Spiridione Loues!"
"Zoe, good fortune goes with you!" criedher uncle. "It is Loues, the winner of the Marathon," and he lifted her high in air to see the hero. All Grecians rejoiced to see him, for he had won the Marathon race, when all the other prizes of the Olympian Games had been won by Americans.
"Since the first Olympian Games," said Marco, as the noise quieted down and Loues was allowed to take his coffee in peace, "there has never been such an excitement as there was over Loues."
"Why do we have the Games?" asked Zoe, who could not understand why there was so much fuss over a young peasant whom she thought not nearly so handsome as Marco.
"It comes from the days of ancient Greece," said Marco. "I will tell you of it while we wait for your uncle, who must speak with a friend over there on business.
"In the very old days when men worshipped the gods, there was at Olympia a temple ofZeus, and here men gathered every year to do him honour. The Greeks loved all manner of sports. They wrestled, ran, jumped, and threw the discus better than any people in the world. Their bodies were strong and beautiful, as we know from the wonderful statues which have been kept in the museums. They loved beauty so much that they did everything to keep their bodies beautiful, fasting, exercising and loving all fine, manly sports. So every four years they had the Olympic Games; and men came from all over Greece to try to win the prizes, for to have the laurel wreath of victory at Olympia placed upon his brow, was the highest honour a man could wish. Envoys were sent out early in the year of the games to invite strangers to witness them, and people came hither from many lands. The victors were crowned and carried in procession with shouts and hand-clapping, honoured by all.
"The games were stopped in the time of theEmperor Theodosius, because he thought them too pagan, and he wished Grecians to put aside pagan things and become Christians. They were begun again in 1896, and now the King takes great interest in them, and so does Prince Constantine.
"Loues won the Marathon race, which is the most exciting of any of the sports. Many, many years ago the Persians were at war with Greece. They had so many soldiers that the Grecians felt certain that their enemy would conquer, but they determined to fight to the death. It was in the fifth century before Christ; Darius, the Persian king, led one hundred thousand men against Miltiades and the Athenians, who numbered only ten thousand men, and they fought a terrible battle on the plains of Marathon. At home the wives and mothers, the old men and children waited, feared and trembled.
"'Is there no news from Marathon?' theyasked each other. 'Is all lost?' But no answer came. At last they saw a speck of dust in the distance and they held their breath. Was it defeat, dishonour, captivity, which came flying to them from Marathon? None knew. The speck came nearer and nearer, no speck but the figure of a man, running as never man ran before. Breathlessly they waited, no one daring even to speak, as he dashed to the city gates. White with dust he staggered within the wall with one wild cry of 'Victory!' as he fell fainting upon the ground. How men honoured him, the fleet runner who had brought the news from Marathon, where Darius' men lay in mighty heaps of slain, and Greece was free.
"So they made in honour of this victory the Marathon race at the games, and Loues was the proud winner, the prouder because all the other contests, even our Grecian disc-throwing, were won by men from America."
"I am so glad I have seen him," said Zoe. "And thank you for telling me all about it."
Then they started again on their drive and found that the sun was setting. As they drove to the inn where they were to spend the night, he was clothing with a rosy glow Hymettus and Penteligos, the two mountains on either side of Athens. Then the glow faded and a deep purple spread over the sky, deepening into violet. Zoe thought she had never seen anything so beautiful, and she sank to sleep that night, tired but happy, murmuring to herself, "It is my home, this lovely Greece of ours. How glad I am that I am a Grecian."
The two days spent in Athens were full to the brim with delight for Zoe. Her uncle seemed to have money enough to spend freely, and he bought her a new frock, a new hat, and—wonder of delight! red shoes stitched in gold. These came from Shoe Street, where all mannerof shoes hung in pairs outside the small doorways of the shops. Her uncle had some business to attend to, and she and Marco wandered about seeing the ruins of the ancient temples, with their wonderful marbles and carvings, which have made the Parthenon of Athens famous all over the world.
The most wonderful things Zoe saw were the peasant dances, and these she stumbled upon quite by accident. Uncle Andreas had gone out to a village north of Athens to attend to some business and had taken Zoe with him. On their way home they saw a crowd at a small village through which they passed.
"I wonder what is happening here?" said Zoe, and her uncle asked the driver of their carriage.
"It is the time of the peasant dances," he said. "If you have never seen them you should stop, for they are very beautiful." So they stopped the carriage and watched the dancing,which was held on a smooth bit of green sward outside the town. Men and maidens danced, hand-in-hand, in long lines, with a slow, dignified grace of motion, the men infustanellas, or some of them in plain European clothes, but the women's clothes were the most beautiful things Zoe had ever seen. Especially lovely were three girls who danced particularly well and were beautifully dressed. Round and round they circled, in a slow, stately movement, to the music of a drum, clarionet and flute. The costumes of the girls were loaded with embroidery, all the work of their own fingers. Their dresses were white, but the embroidery, which reached to nearly a foot above the hems of the skirts, was of coloured woolen, green, blue and gold in the richest of designs. Over the skirts they wore aprons, also embroidered, and sleeveless jackets of white, with red borders embroidered with gold thread. There were caps on their heads,covered with veils which floated back and gave a bride-like appearance to the dancers. Bangles of gold and silver coins hung as necklaces around their throats, and the driver explained that these coins were the girls' dowries and showed how much they were worth to the man who married them.
"I should think anyone would be glad to marry them without any dowry," said Zoe. "They are so beautiful."
"Yes," said her uncle laughing. "But even beauty has to be fed and clothed, and a fair woman is fairer with a good marriage portion."
At last came the day for their departure and they were up and away on the ship, sailing over the blue water.
"Tomorrow we shall be in Argolis, and you will see your new home, Zoe," said her uncle, and she answered, "My old home, too, Uncle. Thank you for bringing me back to it."
They reached the harbour as the moon was rising in the sky, a slender, silver bow such as Diana wielded in the forests of Ephesus. A soft, hazy twilight breathed of fays and nereids, and Zoe imagined that she heard them laughing in the crested waves. She was tired and very sleepy, and her uncle said,
"We shall soon be there, child, and your aunt will be waiting for us with a good supper."
She smiled a little, but her footsteps lagged as they walked up the steep village street. Marco bent down to look at her face, then he stooped and lifted her in his strong arms.
"She is tired out. I will carry her," he said, and Zoe heard nothing more, for her head fell on his shoulder and she fell asleep, until a kind voice said,
"Oh, Andreas, is that you?" Then two warm arms were around her and a soft voice said close to her ear, "Is this my little girl?"She looked up to see a lovely woman's face above hers; then she cuddled down in the tender arms of Aunt Angeliké happier than she had been since her mother died.