out wounding her, so he lamed her with an arrow and then
carried her over his shoulder through Arcadia.

Here he met Diana herself with Apollo, who scolded him for wishing to
kill the animal that she had held sacred, and was about to take it from
him.

"Impiety did not move me, great goddess," said Hercules in his own
defense, "but only the direst necessity. How otherwise could I hold my
own against Eurystheus?"

And thus he softened the anger of the goddess and brought the animal to
Mycene.

THE FOURTH LABOR

Then Hercules set out on his fourth undertaking. It consisted in
bringing alive to Mycene a boar which, likewise sacred to Diana, was
laying waste the country around the mountain of Erymanthus.

On his wanderings in search of this adventure he came to the dwelling of
Pholus, the son of Silenus. Like all Centaurs, Pholus was half man and
half horse. He received his guest with hospitality and set before him
broiled meat, while he himself ate raw. But Hercules, not satisfied with
this, wished also to have something good to drink.

"Dear guest," said Pholus, "there is a cask in my cellar; but it belongs
to all the Centaurs jointly, and I hesitate to open it because I know
how little they welcome guests."

"Open it with good courage," answered Hercules, "I promise to defend you
against all displeasure."

As it happened, the cask of wine had been given to the Centaurs by
Bacchus, the god of wine, with the command that they should not open it
until, after four centuries, Hercules should appear in their midst.

Pholus went to the cellar and opened the wonderful cask. But scarcely
had he done so when the Centaurs caught the perfume of the rare old
wine, and, armed with stones and pine clubs, surrounded the cave of
Pholus. The first who tried to force their way in Hercules drove back
with brands he seized from the fire. The rest he pursued with bow and
arrow, driving them back to Malea, where lived the good Centaur, Chiron,
Hercules' old friend. To him his brother Centaurs had fled for
protection.

But Hercules still continued shooting, and sent an arrow through the arm
of an old Centaur, which unhappily went quite through and fell on
Chiron's knee, piercing the flesh. Then for the first time Hercules
recognized his friend of former days, ran to him in great distress,
pulled out the arrow, and laid healing ointment on the wound, as the
wise Chiron himself had taught him. But the wound, filled with the
poiso