iftly through the land, and Apollo
heard the evil tidings as he journeyed back with his sister, Artemis,
to the house of Phlegyas. A look of sorrow that may not be told passed
over his fair face; but Artemis stretched forth her hand towards the
flashing sun and swore that the maiden should rue her fickleness.
Soon, on the shore of the Lake Boibeis, Koronis lay smitten by the
spear which may never miss its mark, and her child, Asklepios, lay a
helpless babe by her side. Then the voice of Apollo was heard saying,
"Slay not the child with the mother, he is born to do great things,
but bear him to the wise centaur, Cheiron, and bid him train the boy
in all his wisdom, and teach him to do brave deeds, that men may
praise his name in the generations that shall be hereafter."

So in the deep glens of Pelion the child, Asklepios, grew up to
manhood under the teaching of Cheiron, the wise and good. In all the
land there was none that might vie with him in strength of body; but
the people marveled yet more at his wisdom, which passed the wisdom of
the sons of men, for he had learned the power of every herb and leaf
to stay the pangs of sickness and bring back health to the wasted
form. Day by day the fame of his doings was spread abroad more widely
through the land, so that all who were sick hastened to Asklepios and
besought his help. But soon there went forth a rumor that the strength
of death had been conquered by him, and that Athene, the mighty
daughter of Zeus, had taught Asklepios how to bring back the dead from
the dark kingdom of Hades. Then, as the number of those whom he
brought from the gloomy Stygian land increased more and more, Hades
went in hot anger to Olympos, and spoke bitter words against the son
of Koronis, so that the heart of Zeus was stirred with a great fear
lest the children of men should be delivered from death and defy the
power of the gods. Then Zeus bowed his head, and the lightnings
flashed from heaven, and Asklepios was smitten down by the scathing
thunderbolt.

Mighty and terrible was the grief that stirred the soul of the
golden-haired Apollo when his son was slain. The sun shone dimly from
the heaven; the birds were silent in the darkened groves; the trees
bowed down their heads in sorrow, and the hearts of all the sons of
men fainted within them, because the healer of their pains and
sickness lived no more upon the earth. But the wrath of Apollo was
mightier than his grief, and he smote the g