danger. If you desert us, and go to the enchanted palace, you will
suffer the same fate as our poor companions, and not a soul of us will
ever see our dear Ithaca again."

"As I am your king," answered Ulysses, "and wiser than any of you, it is
therefore the more my duty to see what has befallen our comrades, and
whether anything can yet be done to rescue them. Wait for me here until
to-morrow. If I do not then return, you must hoist sail, and endeavor to
find your way to our native land. For my part, I am answerable for the
fate of these poor mariners, who have stood by my side in battle, and been
so often drenched to the skin, along with me, by the same tempestuous
surges. I will either bring them back with me or perish."

Had his followers dared, they would have detained him by force. But King
Ulysses frowned sternly on them, and shook his spear, and bade them stop
him at their peril. Seeing him so determined, they let him go, and sat
down on the sand, as disconsolate a set of people as could be, waiting and
praying for his return.

It happened to Ulysses, just as before, that, when he had gone a few steps
from the edge of the cliff, the purple bird came fluttering towards him,
crying, "Peep, peep, pe--weep!" and using all the art it could to persuade
him to go no farther.

"What mean you, little bird?" cried Ulysses. "You are arrayed like a king
in purple and gold, and wear a golden crown upon your head. Is it because
I too am a king that you desire so earnestly to speak with me? If you can
talk in human language, say what you would have me do."

"Peep!" answered the purple bird, very dolorously. "Peep, peep,
pe--we--ep!"

Certainly there lay some heavy anguish at the little bird's heart; and it
was a sorrowful predicament that he could not, at least, have the
consolation of telling what it was. But Ulysses had no time to waste in
trying to get at the mystery. He therefore quickened his pace, and had
gone a good way along the pleasant wood-path, when there met him a young
man of very brisk and intelligent aspect, and clad in a rather singular
garb. He wore a short cloak, and a sort of cap that seemed to be furnished
with a pair of wings; and from the lightness of his step, you would have
supposed that there might likewise be wings on his feet. To enable him to
walk still better (for he was always on one journey or another), he
carried a winged staff, around which two serpents were wriggling and
twisting. In s