leave his bride. But I will
send you a picked band of hunters, and bid them use all zeal to kill
this foe of your harvests."

With this promise the Mysians were quite content, but Atys, who
overheard it, was not.

"Why, my father," he demanded, "do you now keep me from the wars and the
chase, when you formerly encouraged me to take part in them, and win
glory for myself and you? Have I ever shown cowardice or lack of manly
spirit? What must the citizens or my young bride think of me? With what
face can I show myself in the forum? Either you must let me go to the
chase of this boar, or give a reason why you keep me at home."

In reply Croesus told the indignant youth of his vision, and the alarm
with which it had inspired him.

"Ah!" cried Atys, "then I cannot blame you for keeping this tender watch
over me. But, father, do you not wrongly interpret the dream? It said I
was to die stricken by an iron weapon. A boar wields no such weapon.
Had the dream said I was to die pierced by a tusk, then you might well
be alarmed; but it said a weapon. We do not propose now to fight men,
but to hunt a wild beast I pray you, therefore, let me go with the
party."

"You have the best of me there," said Croesus. "Your interpretation of
the dream is better than mine. You may go, my son."

At that time there was at the king's court a Phrygian named Adrastus,
who had unwittingly slain his own brother and had fled to Sardis, where
he was purified according to the customs of the country, and courteously
received by the king. Croesus sent for this stranger and asked him to
go with the hunting party, and keep especial watch over his son, in case
of an attack by some daring band of robbers.

Adrastus consented, though against his will, his misfortune having taken
from him all desire for scenes of bloodshed. However, he would do his
utmost to guard the king's son against harm.

The party set out accordingly, reached Olympus without adventure, and
scattered in pursuit of the animal, which the dogs soon roused from its
lair. Closing in a circle around the brute, the hunters drew near and
hurled their weapons at it. Not the least eager among the hunters was
Adrastus, who likewise hurled his spear; but, through a frightful
chance, the hurtling weapon went astray, and struck and killed Atys, his
youthful charge. Thus was the dream fulfilled: an iron weapon had slain
the king's favorite son.

The news of this misfortune plunged Croesus int