the queen herself
disappeared, and he saw her no more. The Nereid in the Cretan tale
referred to in Chapter IX obstinately refused to speak, although her
lover had fairly conquered her. But after she bore him a son, the old
woman of whom he had previously taken counsel advised him to heat the
oven and threaten his mistress that if she would not speak he would
throw the boy into it. The Nereid seized the babe, and, crying out: "Let
go my child, dog!" tore it from his arms and vanished. It is related by
Apollodorus that Thetis, who was also a Nereid, wished to make her son
immortal. To this end she buried him in fire by night to burn out his
human elements, and anointed him with ambrosia by day. Peleus, her
husband, was not informed of the reason for this lively proceeding; and,
seeing his child in the fire, he called out. Thetis, thus thwarted,
abandoned both husband and child in disgust, and went back to her native
element. In the great Sanskrit epic of the Mahabharata we are told that
King Santanu, walking by a riverside one day, met and fell in love with
a beautiful girl, who told him that she was the river Ganges, and could
only marry him on condition that he never questioned her conduct. To
this he, with a truly royal gallantry, agreed; and she bore him several
children, all of whom she threw into the river as soon as they were
born. At last she bore him a boy, Bhishma; and her husband begged her to
spare his life, whereupon she instantly changed into the river Ganges
and flowed away. Incompatibility of temper, as evidenced by three simple
disagreements, was a sufficient ground of divorce for the fairy of Llyn
Nelferch, in the parish of Ystradyfodwg, in Glamorganshire, from her
human husband. In a variant of the Maori sagas, to which I have more
than once referred, the lady quits her spouse in disgust because he
turns out _not_ to be a cannibal, as she had hoped from his truculent
name, Kai-tangata, or man-eater. Truly a heartrending instance of
misplaced confidence![226]

Many of these stories belong to the Star's Daughter type,--that is to
say, are wanting in the taboo. But in every variant of the Swan-maiden
group, to whatsoever type it may belong, the catastrophe is inevitable
from the beginning. Whether or not it depends on the breach of an
explicit taboo, it is equally the work of doom. A legend of the Loo-Choo
Islands expresses this feeling in its baldest form. A farmer sees a
bright light in his well, and,