After that you can imagine what happened during dinner. The girls clustered round 'Cousin Jason' as though they were bees and he was the honey pot. They flickered their eyelashes and opened their eyes to the widest extent exclaiming 'Oh!' when they in turn felt his biceps. And they took jolly good care that his glass was never empty. When they felt that they had softened him up enough they gave the wink to their papa, and he brought on the star turn from the local cabaret.
This character's act was a monologue accompanied by occasional twangs on a harp. He told the story of how a Prince and Princess named Phrixus and Helle were terribly persecuted oy their cruel stepmother Queen Ino, until the gods took pity on them and sent them a Golden Ram, that was a kind of animal aircraft, in which to get away from her. They mounted on its back and it must have done pretty well a vertical take-off. Anyway the pace was too hot for poor Helle. When they were crossing the Dardanelles she got giddy, fell off and was drowned; hence the ancients' name for the place, the Hellespont.
The story went on to the effect that Phrixus managed to cling on until the beast had carried him right up the coast of the Euxine Sea and made a safe landing in a country called Colchis, which was probably a part of what we now know as Rumania. Far from being grateful to the Ram, Phrixus proceeded to sacrifice it to Zeus then skinned it and hung its Fleece up in a sacred grove near what was probably a mouth of the Danube.
Phrixus settled down quite happily among the Colchians, married Chalciope, the eldest daughter of their King, whose name was Aeetes, and died in the land of his adoption. But the story did not end there. Why the Kings of those days had to be always consulting Oracles, goodness knows, for they never seem to have done them any good. Anyway, King Aeetes consulted one and it told him that as long as he held on to the Golden Fleece he would be all right, but if once he let it be taken off him he would be a deader.
In the circumstances he did some pretty serious thinking. This resulted in his managing to get hold of—but don't ask me how— a huge fire-breathing serpent that never slept, as guardian of the tree to which the Golden Fleece had been nailed.
The harp-strummer then ended on a note of lament. For some reason undisclosed—since Phrixus had been perfectly happy in Colchis and never made any attempt to return with the Fleece to Greece—his ghost would never lie quiet until the Fleece was brought back to the country of his birth.
By this time Jason must have had a cuddlesome cousin on each of his knees and a third breathing hard down the back of his neck. He was, too, as tight as a tick, otherwise he would never have done what he did.
Staggering to his feet he cried: 'Poo' ole Phrixus! Poo' ole Phrixus! Can't let 'is ghost lie restless in t'grave. I go an' get Fleece. Jus' leave everythin' t'me!'
I've never tried W write like a drunk speaks before, so I can only hope the above will give my readers the right impression.
Seeing that this great big softie had fallen into his trap, the King led the cheering and the girls all patted Jason on the back. Then I suppose his newly found relations carried him up to bed.
Next morning he had the whale of a hangover and realized what an ass he had made of himself. He was very tempted to back out, and I can appreciate his feelings because I've recently had a somewhat similar experience, except that I wasn't tiddly when I let myself in for it. But old Chiron had taught him that if a chap pledges himself to do something he is in honour bound to go through with it. So Jason wrapped his head in a wet towel and set about making a plan.
Living in those parts at the time there was a really wizard shipwright named Argus. Jason got hold of him and had him build a ship out of pine trees cut from Mount Pelion. It was a fifty-oared galley, strong enough to resist any storm yet light enough to be carried overland by its crew. That shows you what a clever old buffer Argus must have been, and it's not surprising that they called the ship after him, the Argo.
As a matter of fact not quite all the credit for the light but unsinkable vessel can go to Argus. In the meantime Jason had paid a visit to Hera's Oragle at Dodona. There was a sacred grove there with a great oak tree in it through which she spoke to people. The goddess told him to lop a limb off her oak and have it carved into a figurehead for his ship, then if he got into difficulties he was to consult it and it would tell him what to do. She also asked Athene to inspire Argus with her wisdom while he was building the vessel, so you see he had the benefit of the goddess's know-how.
Next Jason ran a recruiting campaign, to persuade a lot of other hard-boiled types to come with him. The other Heroes didn't need much persuading because by that time getting the Fleece back had become a thing that had to be done for the honour of Greece. Hercules, Theseus, Orpheus, Castor and Pollux, Admetus, Peleus and lots of others rolled up, fifty in all, including old Argus, who insisted on taking an oar. In addition they took Lynceus as their pilot and Tiphys as their steersman. They would have liked to have Hercules for their captain, but as Jason had started all this Hercules insisted that he should have the job.
When all was set, cunning King Pelias and his girls waved them good-bye. How Jason's pretty cousins felt about him by this time we are not informed. If he was keen about petting parties they were probably a bit misty-eyed, but their papa must have been chuckling in his beard at the happy thought that he would never set eyes on his troublesome nephew again.
Putting out from the coast of Thessaly, the Argo crossed the Aegean and anchored off the island of Lemnos. Some little time before, the women of this island had got bored with their husbands and boy friends, so they had killed them all. Thinking it over later, they came to the conclusion that this had been a big mistake. My lady readers will therefore easily imagine how pleased they were when Jason put in with his crew of fifty-odd likely lads. These stalwarts were pretty quick to realize that the gods had given them a lucky break, so from the very first night a good time was had by all. Not having even seen a man for goodness knows how long, the Lemnos girls fairly let themselves np and spared no pains at all to get the Argonauts thinking that Lemnos was just the place to settle down in for good. Even Jason seems to have liked the idea.
But crusty old Hercules had remained in the ship. As my readers will remember, when young he had chosen Duty instead of Pleasure. So after these jollifications had been going on for some time he came ashore and told his companions what he thought of them. It may be that by then the Argonauts were beginning to find life on an island entirely populated by women a bit exhausting. Anyhow, they admitted that they ought to be ashamed of themselves, and agreed to continue their voyage.
Having sailed up the Hellespont they entered the Propontis Sea, which we now call the Sea of Marmara. There they put in to a haven on its south coast and were kindly received by Cyzicus, the King of the Doliones. This young man was just about to get married and invited them to his wedding feast. Hercules, not being keen on that sort of thing, went off on his own, and it was as well he did. He found that while all the inhabitants of the place were celebrating, a race of giants had come down from the hills and were blocking up the mouth of the harbour with huge stones.
He gave the alarm and kept the giants off with his poisoned arrows until the other Argonauts came on the scene and managed to get their vessel to sea. But later that night a storm drove them back on to the coast. The Doliones, thinking they were enemy raiders, set upon them. In the fight that followed several of the Doliones were killed, among them young King Cyzicus. When daylight came, the mistake was discovered. Everyone was upset, but the Argonauts could only express their regrets and stay over to attend the funeral rites.