on the dike and said that he did not know.

"You cannot pull a plough," said the Bull, with a little touch of
contempt. "I can, and that prevents me from thinking of the Scorpion."

Leo was angry, and said nothing till the dawn broke, and the
cultivator came to yoke the Bull to his work.

"Sing," said the Bull, as the stiff, muddy ox-bow creaked and
strained. "My shoulder is galled. Sing one of the songs that we sang
when we thought we were all Gods together."

Leo stepped back into the canebrake, and lifted up his voice in a song
of the Children of the Zodiac--the war-whoop of the young Gods who are
afraid of nothing. At first he dragged the song along unwillingly, and
then the song dragged him, and his voice rolled across the fields, and
the Bull stepped to the tune, and the cultivator banged his flanks out
of sheer light-heartedness, and the furrows rolled away behind the
plough more and more swiftly. Then the Girl came across the fields
looking for Leo, and found him singing in the cane. She joined her
voice to his, and the cultivator's wife brought her spinning into the
open and listened with all her children round her. When it was time
for the nooning, Leo and the Girl had sung themselves both thirsty and
hungry, but the cultivator and his wife gave them rye bread and milk,
and many thanks; and the Bull found occasion to say:

"You have helped me to do a full half field more than I should have
done. But the hardest part of the day is to come, brother."

Leo wished to lie down and brood over the words of the Crab. The Girl
went away to talk to the cultivator's wife and baby, and the afternoon
ploughing began.

"Help us now," said the Bull. "The tides of the day are running down.
My legs are very stiff. Sing, if you never sang before."

"To a mud-spattered villager?" said Leo.

"He is under the same doom as ourselves. Are you a coward?" said the
Bull.

Leo flushed, and began again with a sore throat and a bad temper.
Little by little he dropped away from the songs of the Children and
made up a song as he went along; and this was a thing he could never
have done had he not met the Crab face to face. He remembered facts
concerning cultivators and bullocks and rice-fields that he had not
particularly noticed before the interview, and he strung them all
together, growing more interested as he sang, and he told the
cultivator much more about himself and his work than the cultivator
knew. The Bull grunted app