tood flourishing their
weapons, clashing their swords against their shields, and boiling over
with the red-hot thirst for battle. Then they began to shout--"Show us
the enemy! Lead us to the charge! Death or victory!" "Come on, brave
comrades! Conquer or die!" and a hundred other outcries, such as men
always bellow forth on a battle field, and which these dragon people
seemed to have at their tongues' ends. At last, the front rank caught
sight of Jason, who, beholding the flash of so many weapons in the
moonlight, had thought it best to draw his sword. In a moment all the
sons of the dragon's teeth appeared to take Jason for an enemy; and
crying with one voice, "Guard the Golden Fleece!" they ran at him
with uplifted swords and protruded spears. Jason knew that it would be
impossible to withstand this blood-thirsty battalion with his single
arm, but determined, since there was nothing better to be done, to die
as valiantly as if he himself had sprung from a dragon's tooth.

Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone from the ground.

"Throw it among them quickly!" cried she. "It is the only way to save
yourself."

The armed men were now so nigh that Jason could discern the fire
flashing out of their enraged eyes, when he let fly the stone, and saw
it strike the helmet of a tall warrior, who was rushing upon him with
his blade aloft. The stone glanced from this man's helmet to the shield
of his nearest comrade, and thence flew right into the angry face of
another, hitting him smartly between the eyes. Each of the three who had
been struck by the stone took it for granted that his next neighbor had
given him a blow; and instead of running any farther towards Jason, they
began to fight among themselves. The confusion spread through the
host, so that it seemed scarcely a moment before they were all hacking,
hewing, and stabbing at one another, lopping off arms, heads, and
legs and doing such memorable deeds that Jason was filled with immense
admiration; although, at the same time, he could not help laughing to
behold these mighty men punishing each other for an offense which he
himself had committed. In an incredibly short space of time (almost
as short, indeed, as it had taken them to grow up), all but one of the
heroes of the dragon's teeth were stretched lifeless on the field. The
last survivor, the bravest and strongest of the whole, had just force
enough to wave his crimson sword over his head and give a shout of
ex