Tanglewood Tales (26 page)

"How gloriously it shines!" cried Jason, in a rapture. "It has surely
been dipped in the richest gold of sunset. Let me hasten onward, and
take it to my bosom."

"Stay," said Medea, holding him back. "Have you forgotten what guards
it?"

To say the truth, in the joy of beholding the object of his desires, the
terrible dragon had quite slipped out of Jason's memory. Soon, however,
something came to pass, that reminded him what perils were still to be
encountered. An antelope, that probably mistook the yellow radiance
for sunrise, came bounding fleetly through the grove. He was rushing
straight towards the Golden Fleece, when suddenly there was a frightful
hiss, and the immense head and half the scaly body of the dragon was
thrust forth (for he was twisted round the trunk of the tree on which
the Fleece hung), and seizing the poor antelope, swallowed him with one
snap of his jaws.

After this feat, the dragon seemed sensible that some other living
creature was within reach, on which he felt inclined to finish his meal.
In various directions he kept poking his ugly snout among the trees,
stretching out his neck a terrible long way, now here, now there, and
now close to the spot where Jason and the princess were hiding behind
an oak. Upon my word, as the head came waving and undulating through the
air, and reaching almost within arm's length of Prince Jason, it was a
very hideous and uncomfortable sight. The gape of his enormous jaws was
nearly as wide as the gateway of the king's palace.

"Well, Jason," whispered Medea (for she was ill natured, as all
enchantresses are, and wanted to make the bold youth tremble), "what do
you think now of your prospect of winning the Golden Fleece?"

Jason answered only by drawing his sword, and making a step forward.

"Stay, foolish youth," said Medea, grasping his arm. "Do not you see you
are lost, without me as your good angel? In this gold box I have a magic
potion, which will do the dragon's business far more effectually than
your sword."

The dragon had probably heard the voices; for swift as lightning, his
black head and forked tongue came hissing among the trees again,
darting full forty feet at a stretch. As it approached, Medea tossed
the contents of the gold box right down the monster's wide-open throat.
Immediately, with an outrageous hiss and a tremendous wriggle—flinging
his tail up to the tip-top of the tallest tree, and shattering all
its branches as it crashed heavily down again—the dragon fell at full
length upon the ground, and lay quite motionless.

"It is only a sleeping potion," said the enchantress to Prince Jason.
"One always finds a use for these mischievous creatures, sooner or
later; so I did not wish to kill him outright. Quick! Snatch the prize,
and let us begone. You have won the Golden Fleece."

Jason caught the fleece from the tree, and hurried through the grove,
the deep shadows of which were illuminated as he passed by the golden
glory of the precious object that he bore along. A little way before
him, he beheld the old woman whom he had helped over the stream, with
her peacock beside her. She clapped her hands for joy, and beckoning him
to make haste, disappeared among the duskiness of the trees. Espying the
two winged sons of the North Wind (who were disporting themselves in the
moonlight, a few hundred feet aloft), Jason bade them tell the rest of
the Argonauts to embark as speedily as possible. But Lynceus, with his
sharp eyes, had already caught a glimpse of him, bringing the Golden
Fleece, although several stone walls, a hill, and the black shadows of
the Grove of Mars, intervened between. By his advice, the heroes had
seated themselves on the benches of the galley, with their oars held
perpendicularly, ready to let fall into the water.

As Jason drew near, he heard the Talking Image calling to him with more
than ordinary eagerness, in its grave, sweet voice:

"Make haste, Prince Jason! For your life, make haste!"

With one bound, he leaped aboard. At sight of the glorious radiance of
the Golden Fleece, the nine and forty heroes gave a mighty shout, and
Orpheus, striking his harp, sang a song of triumph, to the cadence of
which the galley flew over the water, homeward bound, as if careering
along with wings!