agon's teeth. And he forbids me to
make any more attempts, and positively refuses to give up the Golden
Fleece, whether I slay the dragon or no."

"Yes, Jason," said the princess, "and I can tell you more. Unless you
set sail from Colchis before tomorrow's sunrise, the king means to burn
your fifty-oared galley and put yourself and your forty-nine brave
comrades to the sword. But be of good courage. The Golden Fleece you
shall have if it lies within the power of my enchantments to get it for
you. Wait for me here an hour before midnight."

At the appointed hour you might again have seen Prince Jason and the
Princess Medea, side by side, stealing through the streets of Colchis on
their way to the sacred grove, in the center of which the Golden Fleece
was suspended to a tree. While they were crossing the pasture ground the
brazen bulls came toward Jason, lowing, nodding their heads and
thrusting forth their snouts, which, as other cattle do, they loved to
have rubbed and caressed by a friendly hand. Their fierce nature was
thoroughly tamed; and with their fierceness, the two furnaces in their
stomaches had likewise been extinguished, insomuch that they probably
enjoyed far more comfort in grazing and chewing their cuds than ever
before. Indeed, it had heretofore been a great inconvenience to these
poor animals that, whenever they wished to eat a mouthful of grass, the
fire out of their nostrils had shriveled it up before they could manage
to crop it. How they contrived to keep themselves alive is more than I
can imagine. But now, instead of emitting jets of flame and streams of
sulphurous vapor, they breathed the very sweetest of cow breath.

After kindly patting the bulls, Jason followed Medea's guidance into the
Grove of Mars, where the great oak trees that had been growing for
centuries threw so thick a shade that the moonbeams struggled vainly to
find their way through it. Only here and there a glimmer fell upon the
leaf-strewn earth, or now and then a breeze stirred the boughs aside and
gave Jason a glimpse of the sky, lest in that deep obscurity he might
forget that there was one overhead. At length, when they had gone
further and further into the heart of the duskiness, Medea squeezed
Jason's hand.

"Look yonder," she whispered. "Do you see it?"

Gleaming among the venerable oaks there was a radiance, not like the
moonbeams, but rather resembling the golden glory of the setting sun. It
proceeded from an object