rom land to land in that
unhuman form. But do not lose hope. Go on to the southward and then to
the west; and after many days you shall come to the great river Nile.
There you shall again become a maiden, but fairer and more beautiful
than before; and you shall become the wife of the king of that land, and
shall give birth to a son, from whom shall spring the hero who will
break my chains and set me free. As for me, I bide in patience the day
which not even Jupiter can hasten or delay. Farewell!"

Poor Io would have spoken, but she could not. Her sorrowful eyes looked
once more at the suffering hero on the peak, and then she turned and
began her long and tiresome journey to the land of the Nile.

Ages passed, and at last a great hero whose name was Hercules came to
the land of the Caucasus. In spite of Jupiter's dread thunderbolts and
fearful storms of snow and sleet, he climbed the rugged mountain peak;
he slew the fierce eagles that had so long tormented the helpless
prisoner on those craggy heights; and with a mighty blow, he broke the
fetters of Prometheus and set the grand old hero free.

"I knew that you would come," said Prometheus. "Ten generations ago I
spoke of you to Io, who was afterwards the queen of the land of the
Nile."

"And Io," said Hercules, "was the mother of the race from which I am
sprung."

[Illustration]

THE FLOOD.

In those very early times there was a man named Deucalion, and he was
the son of Prometheus. He was only a common man and not a Titan like his
great father, and yet he was known far and wide for his good deeds and
the uprightness of his life. His wife's name was Pyrrha, and she was one
of the fairest of the daughters of men.

After Jupiter had bound Prometheus on Mount Caucasus and had sent
diseases and cares into the world, men became very, very wicked. They no
longer built houses and tended their flocks and lived together in peace;
but every man was at war with his neighbor, and there was no law nor
safety in all the land. Things were in much worse case now than they had
been before Prometheus had come among men, and that was just what
Jupiter wanted. But as the world became wickeder and wickeder every day,
he began to grow weary of seeing so much bloodshed and of hearing the
cries of the oppressed and the poor.

"These men," he said to his mighty company, "are nothing but a source of
trouble. When they were good and happy, we felt afraid lest they should
becom