Part 3
The Smith heaped live coals in his forge and blew with his bellows until the flames leaped up, roaring and sparkling, and the smoke rose in dense clouds over the roof of the smithy. "This forge will do its work well," he said. Then 25 he checked the bellows and smothered the flames and raked ashes upon the fire until the red coals slumbered unseen at the mouth of the forge.
Out into the forest the Smith wandered. Closely he scanned the hillsides and the boggy thickets and the paths 30 among the trees. And there, where the bears had trailed and the wolves had rushed and the deer had left their footprints, he found ruddy Iron, dusky Iron, yellow ore of Iron, peeping, trembling, hiding. The heart of the Smith was glad. His eyes danced merrily, and he sang a song of magic to the timid metal:
"Iron, Iron, hearken while I call you! 5 Let no false and foolish fears appal you, Come from out the crevices that hide you, Leave the worthless stones that are beside you, Leave the earth that lies around, above you, And come with me, for I do dearly love you." 10
Iron moved not, but timidly answered, "I dare not leave my hiding places; for Fire, my brother, waits to devour me. He is strong and fierce. He has no pity."
The Smith shook his head and made reply, still singing:
"No! your brother does not wish to harm you-- 15 Willingly he never would alarm you. With his glowing arms he would caress you, Make you pure and with his kisses bless you. So come with me, my smithy waits to greet you; In my forge your brother waits to meet you-- 20 Waits to throw his loving arms around you, Glad indeed that thus, at last, he's found you."
These words made Iron feel much braver; and they were spoken in tones so sweet and persuasive that he was almost minded to obey without another word. But he asked, 25 "Why should I leave these places where I have rested so long? What will become of me after I have made friends with Fire?"
Again the Smith replied to the query of Iron in a magic song:
"Come with me, for kindly we will treat you. On my anvil gently will I beat you; With my tongs, then, deftly will I hold you; 5 With my hammer I will shape and mold you Into forms so fair that all will prize you, Forms so rare that none will e'er despise you: Axes, knives (so men will wish to use you), Needles, pins (so women, too, will choose you). 10 Come with me, your brother will not harm you, Come with me, my smithy sure will charm you."
Hearing this, Iron came out of his lurking places and without more ado bashfully followed the cunning Smith. But no sooner was he in the smithy than he felt himself 15 a prisoner. The tongs of bronze gripped him and thrust him into the forge. The bellows roared, the Smith shouted, and Fire leaped joyfully out of the ashes and threw his arms around his helpless younger brother. And bashful, bashful Iron turned first red and then white and finally 20 became as soft as dough and as radiant as the sun.
Then the tongs of bronze drew him forth from the flames, and twirled him in the air, and threw him upon the anvil; and the hammer of stone beat him fiercely again and again until he shrieked with pain. 25
"Oh, spare me! spare me!" he cried. "Do not deal so roughly with me. Let me go back to my lonely hiding places and lie there in peace as in the days of old."
But the tongs pinched him worse than before, and the hammer beat him still harder, and the Smith answered: 30
"Not so, not so! Be not so cowardly. We do not hurt you; you are only frightened. Be brave and I will shape you into things of great use to men. Be brave and you shall rule the world."
Then in spite of Iron's piteous cries, he kept on pounding and twisting and turning and shaping the helpless metal 5 until at length it was changed into many forms of use and beauty--rings, chains, axes, knives, cups, and curious tools. But it was so soft, after being thus heated and beaten, that the edges of the tools were quickly dulled. Try as he might, the Smith did not know how to give the 10 metal a harder temper.
One day a honeybee strolled that way. It buzzed around the smithy and then lit on a clover blossom by the door.
"O bee," cried the busy Smith, "you are a cunning 15 little bird, and you know some things better than I know them. Come now, and help me temper this soft metal. Bring me a drop of your honey; bring the sweet liquor which you suck from the meadow flower; bring the magic dew of the wildwood. Give me all such things that I may 20 make a mixture to harden Iron."
The bee answered not--it was too busy with its own affairs. It gathered what honey it could from the blossom and then flew swiftly away.
Under the eaves above the smithy door an idler was 25 sitting--a mischief-making hornet who heard every word that the Smith said.
"I will help him make a mixture," this wicked insect muttered. "I will help him to give Iron another temper."
Forthwith he flew to the thorny thickets and the miry 30 bogs and the fever-breeding marshes, to gather what evils he might. Soon he returned with an arm load--the poison of spiders, the venom of serpents, the miasmata of swamps, the juice of the deadly nightshade. All these he cast into the tub of water wherein the Smith was vainly trying to temper Iron.
The Smith did not see him, but he heard him buzzing 5 and supposed it was the honeybee with sweets from the meadow flowers.
"Thank you, pretty little bird," he said. "Now I hope we shall have a better metal. I hope we shall make edges that will cut and not be dulled so easily." 10
Thereupon he drew a bar of the metal, white hot, from the forge. He held it, hissing and screeching, under the water into which the poisons had been poured. Little thought he of the evil that was there. He heard the hornet humming and laughing under the eaves. 15
"Tiny honeybee," he said, "you have brought me much sweetness. Iron tempered with your honey will be sweet although sharp. Nothing shall be wrought of it that is not beautiful and helpful and kind."
He drew the metal from the tub. He thrust it back 20 among the red coals. He plied the bellows and the flames leaped up. Then, when the metal was glowing again, he laid it on the anvil and beat it with strong, swift strokes; and as he worked he sang:
"Ding! Ding! Ding-a-ling, ding! 25 Of Iron, sharp Iron, strong Iron, I sing, Of Iron my servant, of Iron my king-- Ding! Ding-a-ling, ding!"
Forthwith Iron leaped up, angry and biting and fierce. He was not a soft and ductile metal as before, but Iron 30 hardened into tough blue steel. Showers of sparks flew from him, snapping, burning, threatening; and from among them sprang swords and spears and battle-axes, and daggers keen and pointed. Out of the smithy and out through the great world these cruel weapons raced, slashing and clashing, thrusting and cutting, raging and killing, and 5 carrying madness among men.
The wicked hornet, idling under the eaves, rejoiced at the mischief he had wrought. But the Smith was filled with grief, and the music of his anvil became a jangling discord. 10
"Oh, Iron," he cried, "it was not for this that I caused you to leave your hiding places in the hills and bogs! The three sisters intended that you should be a blessing to mankind; but now I greatly fear that you will become a curse." 15
At that moment the honeybee, laden with the sweets of field and wood, came buzzing into the smithy. It whispered hopefully into the ear of the Smith: "Wait until my gifts have done their work."
--Retold from the _Kalevala_.
1. Find on a map the country from which this legend comes.
2. According to this story, where did iron come from? Why was it fearful of fire? Who finally enticed it into the fire's embrace?
3. Why did the smith cease to be happy? What did the honeybee have in mind in the last sentence? Show how the honeybee's prophecy has come true, by naming the peaceful uses of iron.
4. A good description of an ancient forge is given. Of what did it consist? How is iron handled to-day in modern iron foundries and steel mills?
THE WONDERFUL ARTISAN
BY JAMES BALDWIN
There are enough Greek legends to fill several volumes. They relate the doings of the gods and heroes of ancient Greece, and endeavor to account for the origin of plants and animals and the founding of cities. This story no doubt contains many facts but it is chiefly fiction.
While Athens was still only a small city there lived within its walls a man named Dædalus (d[)e]d´a-l[)u]s), who was the most skillful worker in wood and stone and metal that had ever been known. It was he who taught the people how to build better houses and how to hang 5 their doors on hinges and how to support the roofs with pillars and posts. He was the first to fasten things together with glue; he invented the plumb line and the auger; and he showed seamen how to put up masts in their ships and how to rig the sails to them with ropes. He 10 built a stone palace for Ægeus, the young king of Athens, and beautified the Temple of Athena which stood on the great rocky hill in the middle of the city.
Dædalus had a nephew named Perdix, whom he had taken when a boy to teach the trade of builder. But 15 Perdix was a very apt learner and soon surpassed his master in the knowledge of many things. His eyes were ever open to see what was going on about him, and he learned the lore of the fields and the woods. Walking one day by the sea he picked up the backbone of a great fish, and from 20 it he invented the saw. Seeing how a certain bird carved holes in the trunks of trees, he learned how to make and use the chisel. Then he invented the wheel which potters use in molding clay; and he made of a forked stick the first pair of compasses for drawing circles; and he studied out many other curious and useful things.
Dædalus was not pleased when he saw that the lad was 5 so apt and wise, so ready to learn, and so eager to do.
"If he keeps on in this way," he murmured, "he will be a greater man than I; his name will be remembered and mine will be forgotten."
Day after day, while at his work, Dædalus pondered over 10 this matter, and soon his heart was filled with hatred towards young Perdix. One morning when the two were putting up an ornament on the outer wall of Athena's temple, Dædalus bade his nephew go out on a narrow scaffold which hung high over the edge of the rocky cliff 15 whereon the temple stood. Then when the lad obeyed, it was easy enough, with a blow of a hammer, to knock the scaffold from its fastenings.
Poor Perdix fell headlong through the air, and he would have been dashed in pieces upon the stones at the foot of 20 the cliff had not kind Athena seen him and taken pity upon him. While he was yet whirling through mid-air she changed him into a partridge, and he flitted away to the hills to live forever in the woods and fields which he loved so well. And to this day, when summer breezes 25 blow and the wild flowers bloom in meadow and glade, the voice of Perdix may still sometimes be heard calling to his mate from among the grass and reeds or amid the leafy underwoods.
* * * * *
As for Dædalus, when the people of Athens heard of his 30 dastardly deed they were filled with grief and rage--grief for young Perdix, whom all had learned to love; rage towards the wicked uncle who loved only himself. At first they were for punishing Dædalus with the death which he so richly deserved, but when they remembered what he had done to make their homes pleasanter and their lives 5 easier they allowed him to live; and yet they drove him out of Athens and bade him never return.
There was a ship in the harbor just ready to start on a voyage across the sea, and in it Dædalus embarked with all his precious tools and his young son Icarus ([)i]k´à-r[)u]s). 10 Day after day the little vessel sailed slowly southward, keeping the shore of the mainland always upon the right. It passed Tr[oe]zen and the rocky coast of Argos and then struck boldly out across the sea.
At last the famous Island of Crete was reached, and 15 there Dædalus landed and made himself known; and the King of Crete, who had already heard of his wondrous skill, welcomed him to his kingdom, and gave him a home in his palace, and promised that he should be rewarded with great riches and honor if he would but stay and practice 20 his craft there as he had done in Athens.
Now the name of the King of Crete was Minos. His grandfather, whose name was also Minos, was the son of Europa, a young princess whom a white bull, it was said, had brought on his back across the sea from distant Asia. 25 This elder Minos had been accounted the wisest of men--so wise, indeed, that Jupiter chose him to be one of the judges of the Lower World. The younger Minos was almost as wise as his grandfather; and he was brave and farseeing and skilled as a ruler of men. He had made all 30 the islands subject to his kingdom, and his ships sailed into every part of the world and brought back to Crete the riches of foreign lands. So it was not hard for him to persuade Dædalus to make his home with him and be the chief of his artisans.
And Dædalus built for King Minos a most wonderful palace with floors of marble and pillars of granite; and 5 in the palace he set up golden statues which had tongues and could talk; and for splendor and beauty there was no other building in all the wide earth that could be compared with it.
There lived in those days among the hills of Crete a 10 terrible monster called the Minotaur (m[)i]n´[=o]-tôr), the like of which has never been seen from that time until now. This creature, it was said, had the body of a man but the face and head of a wild bull and the fierce nature of a mountain lion. The people of Crete would not have killed 15 him if they could; for they thought that the Mighty Folk who lived with Jupiter on the mountain top had sent him among them and that these beings would be angry if anyone should take his life. He was the pest and terror of all the land. Where he was least expected, there he was 20 sure to be; and almost every day some man, woman, or child was caught and devoured by him.
"You have done so many wonderful things," said the king to Dædalus, "can you not do something to rid the land of this Minotaur?" 25
"Shall I kill him?" asked Dædalus.
"Ah, no!" said the king. "That would only bring greater misfortune upon us."
"I will build a house for him then," said Dædalus, "and you can keep him in it as a prisoner." 30
"But he may pine away and die if he is penned up in prison," said the king.
"He shall have plenty of room to roam about," said Dædalus; "and if you will only now and then feed one of your enemies to him, I promise you that he shall live and thrive."
So the wonderful artisan brought together his workmen, 5 and they built a marvelous house with so many rooms in it and so many winding ways that no one who went far into it could ever find his way out again; and Dædalus called it the Labyrinth and cunningly persuaded the Minotaur to go inside it. The monster soon lost his way 10 among the winding passages, but the sound of his terrible bellowings could be heard day and night as he wandered back and forth vainly trying to find some place to escape.
* * * * *
Not long after this it happened that Dædalus was guilty of a deed which angered the king very greatly; and had 15 not Minos wished him to build other buildings for him, he would have put him to death and served him right.
"Hitherto," said the king, "I have honored you for your skill and rewarded you for your labor. But now you shall be my slave and shall serve me without hire and without 20 any word of praise."
Then he gave orders to the guards at the city gates that they should not let Dædalus pass out at any time, and he set soldiers to watch the ships that were in port so that he could not escape by sea. But although the wonderful 25 artisan was thus held as a prisoner, he did not build any more buildings for King Minos; he spent his time in planning how he might regain his freedom.
"All my inventions," he said to his son Icarus, "have hitherto been made to please other people; now I will 30 invent something to please myself."
So through all the day he pretended to be planning some great work for the king, but every night he locked himself up in his chamber and wrought secretly by candlelight. By and by he had made for himself a pair of strong wings, and for Icarus another pair of smaller ones; and then, 5 one midnight, when everybody was asleep, the two went out to see if they could fly. They fastened the wings to their shoulders with wax, and then sprang up into the air. They could not fly very far at first, but they did so well that they felt sure of doing much better in time. 10
The next night Dædalus made some changes in the wings. He put on an extra strap or two; he took out a feather from one wing and put a new feather into another; and then he and Icarus went out into the moonlight to try them again. They did finely this time. They flew up to 15 the top of the king's palace, and then they sailed away over the walls of the city and alighted on the top of a hill. But they were not ready to undertake a long journey yet; and so just before daybreak, they flew back home. Every fair night after that they practiced with their wings, and 20 at the end of a month they felt as safe in the air as on the ground and could skim over the hilltops like birds.
Early one morning, before King Minos had risen from his bed, they fastened on their wings, sprang into the air, and flew out of the city. Once fairly away from the island 25 they turned towards the west, for Dædalus had heard of an island named Sicily which lay hundreds of miles away, and he had made up his mind to seek a new home there.
All went well for a time, and the two bold flyers sped swiftly over the sea, skimming along only a little above 30 the waves, and helped on their way by the brisk east wind. Towards noon the sun shone very warm, and Dædalus called out to the boy, who was a little behind him, and told him to keep his wings cool and not fly too high. But the boy was proud of his skill in flying, and as he looked up at the sun he thought how nice it would be to soar like it high above the clouds in the blue depths of the sky. 5
"At any rate," said he to himself, "I will go up a little higher. Perhaps I can see the horses which draw the sun car, and perhaps I shall catch sight of their driver, the mighty sun master himself."
So he flew up higher and higher, but his father, who was 10 in front, did not see him. Pretty soon, however, the heat of the sun began to melt the wax with which the boy's wings were fastened. He felt himself sinking through the air; the wings had become loosened from his shoulders. He screamed to his father, but it was too late. Dædalus 15 turned just in time to see Icarus fall headlong into the waves. The water was very deep there, and the skill of the wonderful artisan could not save his child. He could only look with sorrowing eyes at the unpitying sea, and fly on alone to distant Sicily. There, men say, he lived for 20 many years, but he never did any great work nor built anything half so marvelous as the Labyrinth of Crete. And the sea in which poor Icarus was drowned was called forever afterward by his name, the Icarian Sea.
--_Old Greek Stories._
1. Dædalus's adventures can be divided into three sections. Tell what happened in each of the three episodes.
2. For other interesting Greek legends read Baldwin's _Old Greek Stories_ or Guerber's _Myths of Ancient Greece and Rome_.
CHARLEMAGNE AND ROLAND
BY HÉLÈNE A. GUERBER
A series of legends centers about the great emperor of France, Charlemagne (shar´l[=e]-m[=a]n), and his nephew Roland. Charlemagne's sister Bertha had married an obscure knight, Milon, and had thus incurred the anger of her brother. The following story suggests the reconciliation of the two through the forwardness of Master Roland. Roland came to be known as the greatest knight of continental Europe in the Middle Ages.
Read the selection with a view to understanding the characters of the two chief personages.
Numerous stories are told of the way in which Roland first attracted the attention of the great emperor, his uncle. Of these the most popular is that which relates how Milon, attempting to ford a stream, had been carried away and drowned, while his poor half-famished 5 wife at home was thus left to perish of hunger. Seeing the signs of such acute distress around him, the child went boldly to the banqueting hall near by, where Charlemagne and his lords were feasting. Casting his eyes round for a suitable dish to plunder, Roland caught up a platter of 10 food and fled. His fearless act greatly amused the emperor, who forbade his servants to interfere. Thus the boy carried off his prize in triumph, and soon set it before the startled eyes of his mother.