As he spoke he looked stealthily from one side to the other, while his
eyes winked slyly, and he made a long soft whistling sound, as if the
words of Phoebus had amused him mightily. "Well, friend," said Apollo,
with a smile, "thou wilt break into many a house, I see, and thy
followers after thee; and thy fancy for beef will set many a herdsman
grieving. But come down from the cradle, or this sleep will be thy
last. Only this honor can I promise thee, to be called the prince of
thieves forever." So without more ado Phoebus caught up the babe in
his arms; but Hermes gave so mighty a sneeze that he quickly let him
fall, and Phoebus said to him, gravely, "This is the sign that I shall
find my cows; show me, then, the way." In great fear Hermes started up
and pulled the cradle-clothes over his ears, as he said, "Cruel god,
what dost thou seek to do with me? Why worry me thus about cows? I
would there were not a cow in all the earth. I stole them not, nor
have I seen any one steal the cows, whatever things cows may be. I
know nothing but their name. But come; Zeus must decide the quarrel
between us."

Thus each with his own purpose spake to the other, and their minds
grew all the darker, for Phoebus sought only to know where his cows
might be, while Hermes strove only to cheat him. So they went quickly
and sulkily on, the babe first, and Phoebus following after him, till
they came to the heights of Olympos and the home of the mighty Zeus.
There Zeus sat on the throne of judgment, and all the undying gods
stood around him. Before them in the midst stood Phoebus and the child
Hermes, and Zeus said, "Thou hast brought a fine booty after thy hunt
to-day, Phoebus--a child of a day old. A fine matter is this to put
before the gods."

"My father," said Apollo, quickly, "I have a tale to tell which will
show that I am not the only plunderer. After a weary search I found
this babe in the cave of Kyllene; and a thief he is such as I have
never seen whether among gods or men. Yester eve he stole my cattle
from the meadow, and drove them straight towards Pylos to the shore of
the sounding sea. The tracks left were such that gods and men might
well marvel at them. The footprints of the cows on the sand were as
though they were going to my meadows, and not away from them; his own
footmarks beggar all words, as if he had gone neither on his feet nor
on his hands, and as if the oak tops had suddenly taken to walking. So
was it on the sand