When he had finished the story of his adventures, the stranger looked around at the attentive faces of his audience.
“Perhaps you may have heard of me before,” he said modestly. “My name is Hercules.”
“We have already guessed it,” replied the nearest young woman, “for your wonderful deeds are known all ever the world. And we no longer think it strange that you should set out in quest of the golden apples. We will now give you the best directions we can. You must go to the seashore and find the Old One and compel him to inform you where the garden is to be found.”
“The Old One!” Hercules repeated, laughing at this odd name. “And who is the Old One?”
“Why, the Old Man of the Sea, to be sure!” answered another of the maidens. “He is a seafaring person, and knows all about the garden of the Hesperides, for it is situated on an island which he is often in the habit of visiting.”
Hercules then asked where the old man was most likely to be found, and when the damsels had informed him, thanked them for all their kindness and immediately set forth upon his journey. But before he was out of hearing, one of the maidens called after him.
“Keep fast hold of the Old One when you catch him. Do not be astonished at anything that may happen. Only hold him fast, and he will tell you what you wish to know.”
Hercules walked resolutely forward until he came to a seashore where the great surf-waves crashed upon the hard sand in a long line of snowy foam. At one end of the beach, however, there was a pleasant spot where some green shrubbery clambered up the cliff, making its rocky face look soft and beautiful. A carpet of verdant grass, largely intermixed with sweet-smelling clover, covered the narrow space between the bottom of the cliff and the sea. And what should Hercules see there but an old man, fast asleep!
But—was it an old man? Certainly, at first sight it looked like one; but, on closer inspection, it rather seemed to be some kind of creature that lived in the sea. For on his legs and arms were scales, such as fishes have; he was web-footed and web-fingered, after the fashion of a duck; and his long beard, which was a greenish colour, had more the appearance of a tuft of seaweed than of an ordinary beard. Hercules, the instant he set his eyes on this strange figure, was convinced that it could be no other than the Old One who was to direct him on his way. Thanking his stars for the lucky accident of finding the old fellow asleep, Hercules crept forward on tip-toe and caught him by the arm and leg.
“Tell me,” he cried, before the Old One was well awake, “which is the way to the garden of the Hesperides?”
As you may imagine the Old Man of the Sea awoke in a fright. But his astonishment could hardly have been greater than that of Hercules, for all of a sudden the Old Man seemed to disappear out of his grasp, and he found himself holding a stag by the fore and hindlegs! But still he held fast. Then the stag disappeared, and in its place there was a sea-bird, fluttering and screaming, while Hercules clutched it by wing and claw! But the bird could not get away. Immediately afterwards, there was an ugly three-headed dog, which growled and barked at Hercules, and snapped fiercely at the hands that held him. In another minute, instead of the three-headed dog, what should appear but Geryon the six-legged monster, kicking at Hercules with five of his legs in order to get the remaining one free. But Hercules held on. By and by no Geryon struggled in his grasp but a huge snake, like one of those which Hercules had strangled in his babyhood, only a hundred times as big; and it twisted and twined about the hero’s neck and body, and threw its tail high in the air, and opened its deadly jaws as if to devour him. But Hercules was in no way disheartened, and squeezed the great snake so tightly that it soon began to hiss with pain.
Presently the Old One grew tired and finally thought it best to reappear in his own figure. So there he was again, a fishy, web-footed sort of personage, with something like a tuft of seaweed on his chin.
“What do you want with me?” he demanded, as soon as he had regained his breath; for it was quite a tiresome affair to go through so many changes. “Why do you squeeze me so hard? Let me go this moment, or I shall begin to consider you an extremely unpleasant person!”
“My name is Hercules!” roared the mighty stranger. “And you will never get out of my clutch until you tell me the nearest way to the garden of the Hesperides!”
“Oh, I’ve heard all about you!” the Old Man of the Sea exclaimed. “Very well. Walk south by south east, then follow your nose until you see a very tall giant, who holds the sky on his shoulders. And the giant, if he happens to be in a good humour, will tell you exactly where the garden of the Hesperides lies.”
“And if the giant happens not to be in a good humour,” remarked Hercules, balancing his club on the tip of one finger, “perhaps I shall find the means of persuading him.”
Thanking the Old Man of the Sea and begging his pardon for having squeezed him so roughly, the hero resumed his journey, which was a very long one indeed, for he had to cross the land of Egypt and most of Africa, before he arrived on the shore of a great ocean. And here, unless he could walk on the crests of the waves, it seemed as if his journey must needs be at an end.
But, suddenly, as he looked towards the horizon, he saw something a great way off which he had not seen the moment before. It gleamed very brightly, almost as if it were another sun coming up over the rim of the world, then, as it drew nearer, was revealed as a vast gold or brass cup. How it had got afloat upon the sea is more than I can tell you. There it was, at all events, rolling on the tumultuous waves, which tossed it up and down, and heaved their foamy tops against its sides, but without even throwing their spray over the brim.
“I have seen many giants in my time,” Hercules thought, “but never one who would need to drink out of a cup like this!”
The waves tumbled the immense cup forward, until it grazed the shore within a short distance of the spot where Hercules was standing. As soon as this happened, he knew what was to be done; for he had not gone through so many remarkable adventures without learning how to conduct himself whenever anything out of the ordinary came to pass. It was as clear as daylight that this marvellous cup had been set adrift by some unseen power, and guided to this spot, in order to carry Hercules across the sea on his way to the garden of the Hesperides. Accordingly, without a moment’s delay, he clambered over the brim and slid down inside, where, spreading out his lion’s skin, he proceeded to take a little nap.
He must have slept for a good while before the cup chanced to graze against a rock, and as a result immediately gave a loud bell-like sound. The noise awoke Hercules, who instantly started up and gazed about him, wondering where he was. He was not long in discovering that the cup had floated across a great part of the sea, and was approaching the shore of what seemed to be an island. And on that island what do you think he saw?
A giant.
But what an intolerably big giant. A giant as tall as a mountain. So vast a giant that the clouds rested about his waist like a girdle, and hung like a white beard from his chin, and flitted before his huge eyes, so that he could not see Hercules or the golden cup. And, most wonderful of all, he appeared to be supporting the sky, which, so far as Hercules could see, was resting on his head.
Meanwhile the bright cup continued to float onward until it finally touched the shore. Just then a breeze blew the clouds from before the giant’s face, and Hercules saw the enormous features; eyes, each as large as a lake, a nose a mile long, and a mouth of the same width. Also, it became clear that the giant had been standing in that one position for a very long time. An ancient forest had been growing and decaying around his feet; and oak-trees, of six or seven centuries old, had forced themselves between his toes.