s breast, and it seemed to him that they were skimming the sandy
course as if they were swallows. But then Atalanta began to draw away
from him. He saw her ahead of him, and then he began to hear the words
of cheer that came from the throng "Bend to the race, Hippomenes! Go
on, go on! Use your strength to the utmost." He bent himself to the
race, but further and further from him Atalanta drew.

Then it seemed to him that she checked her swiftness a little to look
back at him. He gained on her a little. And then his hand touched the
apples that were in his girdle. As it touched them it came into his
mind what to do with the apples.

He was not far from her now, but already her swiftness was drawing her
further and further away. He took one of the apples into his hand and
tossed it into the air so that it fell on the track before her.

Atalanta saw the shining apple. She checked her speed and stooped in
the race to pick it up. And as she stooped Hippomenes darted past her,
and went flying toward the goal that now was within his sight.

But soon she was beside him again. He looked, and he saw that the goal
marks were far, far ahead of him. Atalanta with the flying hair passed
him, and drew away and away from him. He had not speed to gain upon her
now, he thought, so he put his strength into his hand and he flung the
second of the shining apples. The apple rolled before her and rolled
off the course. Atalanta turned off the course, stooped and picked up
the apple.

Then did Hippomenes draw all his spirit into his breast as he raced on.
He was now nearer to the goal than she was. But he knew that she was
behind him, going lightly where he went heavily. And then she was
beside him, and then she went past him. She paused in her speed for a
moment and she looked back on him.

As he raced on, his chest seemed weighted down and his throat was
crackling dry. The goal marks were far away still, but Atalanta was
nearing them. He took the last of the golden apples into his hand.
Perhaps she was now so far that the strength of his throw would not be
great enough to bring the apple before her.

But with all the strength he could put into his hand he flung the
apple. It struck the course before her feet and then went bounding
wide. Atalanta swerved in her race and followed where the apple went.
Hippomenes marvelled that he had been able to fling it so far. He saw
Atalanta stoop to pick up the apple, and he bounded on. And then,