k, too, as well as a dozen other
fellows that I know of. At any rate, here is a story about him; and,
of all places in the world, it ought certainly to be told upon a
mountain-top."

So, sitting on the pile of stones, while the children clustered
themselves at its base, Eustace fixed his eyes on a white cloud that
was sailing by, and began as follows.

[Illustration]

THE CHIMAERA

[Illustration]

Once, in the old, old times (for all the strange things which I tell
you about happened long before anybody can remember), a fountain
gushed out of a hill-side, in the marvelous land of Greece. And, for
aught I know, after so many thousand years, it is still gushing out of
the very selfsame spot. At any rate, there was the pleasant fountain,
welling freshly forth and sparkling adown the hill-side, in the golden
sunset, when a handsome young man named Bellerophon drew near its
margin. In his hand he held a bridle, studded with brilliant gems, and
adorned with a golden bit. Seeing an old man, and another of middle
age, and a little boy, near the fountain, and likewise a maiden, who
was dipping up some of the water in a pitcher, he paused, and begged
that he might refresh himself with a draught.

"This is very delicious water," he said to the maiden as he rinsed and
filled her pitcher, after drinking out of it. "Will you be kind enough
to tell me whether the fountain has any name?"

"Yes; it is called the Fountain of Pirene," answered the maiden; and
then she added, "My grandmother has told me that this clear fountain
was once a beautiful woman; and when her son was killed by the arrows
of the huntress Diana, she melted all away into tears. And so the
water, which you find so cool and sweet, is the sorrow of that poor
mother's heart!"

"I should not have dreamed," observed the young stranger, "that so
clear a well-spring, with its gush and gurgle, and its cheery dance
out of the shade into the sunlight, had so much as one tear-drop in
its bosom! And this, then, is Pirene? I thank you, pretty maiden, for
telling me its name. I have come from a far-away country to find this
very spot."

A middle-aged country fellow (he had driven his cow to drink out of
the spring) stared hard at young Bellerophon, and at the handsome
bridle which he carried in his hand.

"The water-courses must be getting low, friend, in your part of the
world," remarked he, "if you come so far only to find the Fountain of
Pirene. But, pray,