upon the mountain side.
Of all the maidens of the land, there was none to vie her in beauty;
neither was there any that could be matched with her for strength of
arm and speed of foot. She touched not the loom or the spindle; she
cared not for banquets with those who revel under houses. Her feasts
were spread on the green grass, beneath the branching tree; and with
her spear and dagger she went fearless among the beasts of the field,
or sought them out in their dens.

One day she was roaming along the winding banks of Peneios, when a
lion sprang from a thicket across her path. Neither spear nor dagger
was in her hand, but the heart of Kyrene knew no fear, and she
grappled with him until the beast sank wearied at her feet. She had
conquered, but not unseen, for Phoebus Apollo had watched the maiden
as she battled with the angry lion; and straightway he called the wise
centaur Cheiron, who had taught him in the days of his youth. "Come
forth," he said, "from thy dark cave, and teach me once again, for I
have a question to ask thee. Look at yonder maiden, and the beast
which lies beaten at her feet; and tell me (for thou art wise) whence
she comes, and what name she bears. Who is she, that thus she wanders
in these lonely valleys without fear and without hurt? Tell me if she
may be wooed and won." Then Cheiron looked steadfastly at the face of
Phoebus, and a smile passed over his countenance as he answered,
"There are hidden keys to unlock the prison-house of love; but why
askest thou me of the maiden's name and race--thou who knowest the end
of all things, and all the paths along which the sons of men are
journeying? Thou hast counted the leaves which burst forth in the
spring-time, and the grains of sand which the wind tosses on the river
bank, or by the sea shore. But if I must needs match thee in suitable
wisdom, then listen to my words. The maiden is wooed and won already;
and thou art going to bear her as thy bride over the dark sea, and
place her in golden halls on the far-off Libyan land. There she shall
have a home rich in every fruit that may grow up from the earth; and
there shall thy son Aristaios be born, on whose lips the bright Horai
shall shed nectar and ambrosia, so that he may not come under the doom
of mortal men."

Then Phoebus Apollo smiled as he answered, "Of a truth, Cheiron, thou
deservest thy fame, for there are none to match with thee for wisdom;
and now I go with Kyrene to the land which shall