ll him so, for he must be of better stuff than I."

As he finished speaking, Bartja appeared in the circle of assembled
Persians. His glorious figure was set off to advantage by his rich
dress, his features were bright with happiness and a feeling of
conscious strength. He passed through the ranks of the Achaemenidae with
many a friendly nod, which was warmly returned, and going straight to
his brother, kissed his robe, looked up frankly and cheerfully into his
gloomy eyes, and said: "I am a little late, and ask your forgiveness, my
lord and brother. Or have I really come in time? Yes, yes, I see there's
no arrow in the target yet, so I am sure you, the best archer in the
world, cannot have tried your strength yet. But you look so enquiringly
at me. Then I will confess that our child kept me. The little creature
laughed to-day for the first time, and was so charming with its mother,
that I forgot how time was passing while I watched them. You have all
full leave to laugh at my folly; I really don't know how to excuse
myself. See, the little one has pulled my star from the chain. But I
think, my brother, you will give me a new one to-day if I should hit the
bull's eye. Shall I shoot first, or will you begin, my Sovereign?"

"Give him the bow, Prexaspes," said Cambyses, not even deigning to look
at his brother.

Bartja took it and was proceeding to examine the wood and the string,
when Cambyses suddenly called out, with a mocking laugh: "By Mithras, I
believe you want to try your sweet looks on the bow, and win its favor
in that fashion, as you do the hearts of men. Give it back to Prexaspes.
It's easier to play with beautiful women and laughing children, than
with a weapon like this, which mocks the strength even of real men."

Bartja blushed with anger and annoyance at this speech, which was
uttered in the bitterest tone, picked up the giant arrow that lay before
him, placed himself opposite the target, summoned all his strength, bent
the bow, by an almost superhuman effort, and sent the arrow into the
very centre of the target, where its iron point remained, while the
wooden shaft split into a hundred shivers.

[Herodotus tells this story (III, 30.), and we are indebted to him
also for our information of the events which follow. The following
inscription, said to have been placed over the grave of Darius, and
communicated by Onesikritus, (Strabo 730.) proves that the Persians
were very proud of being