ts stomach. Mercy on us, little children, I hope neither you nor I
will ever happen to meet a Chimaera!

While the hateful beast (if a beast we can anywise call it) was doing
all these horrible things, it so chanced that Bellerophon came to that
part of the world, on a visit to the king. The king's name was Iobates,
and Lycia was the country which he ruled over. Bellerophon was one of
the bravest youths in the world, and desired nothing so much as to do
some valiant and beneficent deed, such as would make all mankind admire
and love him. In those days, the only way for a young man to distinguish
himself was by fighting battles, either with the enemies of his country,
or with wicked giants, or with troublesome dragons, or with wild beasts,
when he could find nothing more dangerous to encounter. King Iobates,
perceiving the courage of his youthful visitor, proposed to him to go
and fight the Chimaera, which everybody else was afraid of, and which,
unless it should be soon killed, was likely to convert Lycia into a
desert. Bellerophon hesitated not a moment, but assured the king that he
would either slay this dreaded Chimaera, or perish in the attempt.

But, in the first place, as the monster was so prodigiously swift, he
bethought himself that he should never win the victory by fighting on
foot. The wisest thing he could do, therefore, was to get the very best
and fleetest horse that could anywhere be found. And what other horse in
all the world was half so fleet as the marvellous horse Pegasus, who had
wings as well as legs, and was even more active in the air than on the
earth? To be sure, a great many people denied that there was any such
horse with wings, and said that the stories about him were all poetry
and nonsense. But, wonderful as it appeared, Bellerophon believed that
Pegasus was a real steed, and hoped that he himself might be fortunate
enough to find him; and, once fairly mounted on his back, he would be
able to fight the Chimaera at better advantage.

And this was the purpose with which he had travelled from Lycia to
Greece, and had brought the beautifully ornamented bridle in his hand.
It was an enchanted bridle. If he could only succeed in putting the
golden bit into the mouth of Pegasus, the winged horse would be
submissive, and would own Bellerophon for his master, and fly
whithersoever he might choose to turn the rein.

But, indeed, it was a weary and anxious time, while Bellerophon waited
and waite