CHAPTER VIII
A ROYAL COUNCIL AND A ROYAL HUNT
IT was the day after the funeral of Cyrus. Cambyses, the Great King, was in a black humor. The fatigue incident to the funeral services and the reaction from intoxication caused by too much drink, indulged in afterward, had darkened his vision and sharpened his acerbity. When he awoke and sat up on his silk-covered couch, he felt the need of immediate refreshment. He jerked a cord hanging conveniently at hand, and a bell jangled in an adjoining hall. Instantly two servants appeared, slipping in between the heavy folds of a curtain at the doorway, and prostrated themselves before him.
“Rise up, dogs! Bring me soma!” he roared.
Swiftly and noiselessly as fleeting shadows they arose and disappeared. In a moment the King’s cup-bearer appeared with a golden goblet in hand, followed by the servants bearing a vessel of milky, fiery liquid. The cup-bearer bowed low, the servants set down the jar and were about to prostrate themselves again, when Cambyses cried impatiently, “Omit salutations and pour!”
The potent fluid sparkled as it flowed into the goblet from the vessel. Twice was the goblet filled and twice did he drain it. “Begone!” he then commanded. “Send the bath hither!”
Cup-bearer and servants withdrew, walking backward. A moment later the servants came in again, bearing a large tub of water. With their assistance the King proceeded to bathe. Unfortunately for one, he dropped a towel and received a buffet from the King’s fist that caused him to reel.
“Have care!” roared Cambyses. “To the guard-house you go to-day and thence to the kitchen as scullion!”
The man prostrated himself and prayed for pardon. Royalty made no sign and he withdrew. Another came to take his place. After the bath, the King’s hair was combed, curled, and perfumed. The royal barber trimmed his whiskers deftly and carefully waxed them. Then he was arrayed in fine linen and purple. His breakfast was brought into the room, and he sat down to eat. He then sent a page to summon Prexaspes. The latter, elegantly dressed and well groomed as usual, soon appeared and, bending till his hands touched the floor, saluted.
“May the King live forever!”
In obedience to a wave of the King’s hand, the servants disappeared.
“See that none stand near the door! Let the guard move away to the outer room!” commanded the King.
Prexaspes saw that the orders were obeyed. Then, resuming his deferential attitude before his royal master, with bowed head, eyes to the floor, and hands crossed before him, he awaited the royal pleasure. The King, having eaten in silence some minutes, pushed away the remainder of the food.
“Prexaspes,” he said truculently, “I know you! I know you are faithful to me because you hope to win power and not because you love me. So be it! Royal place you cannot have owing to the accident of birth, but royal power you may win if you will. Are you ready to carry out all my wishes or must I seek another?”
He paused. Prexaspes raised his eyes and noted his master’s expression.
“Royal master,” he said quietly, “you read men with the eye of God! It is true I love power and riches and I know that both may be given me by you and none other. I am your slave to command.”
“Well said! I, who am descended from Jemshid and Kaiomurs, from Achæmenius and Cyrus, am able to make you great. Just as there may be one God in heaven, so I am the one God on earth. There is but one family fitted to rule the earth and that is mine. Is it not so?”
“It is so.”
“Since it is so, is not the will of the Great King of the Persians and Medes and of the whole world above the laws of this empire?”
“The King’s word is law.”
“If, then, the Great King command you to do an act, that act, even if it be the taking of life contrary to Persian law, becomes lawful. Is it not so?”
For an instant Prexaspes clasped his fingers together nervously.
“It might be lawful, O King,” he answered slowly. “But though your power is great, there are in this land of Persia great nobles who claim great rights and powers, and who would maintain that Persian law must not be broken even by the Great King. I know the great wisdom and the courage of the King; but if I may be permitted to speak, I would give the advice of one who has studied these matters deeply.”
“I know!” exclaimed the King, impatiently. “I saw the dour faces of the nobles and the hostility of the people. My father unreasonably inflicted punishments upon me and my friends, and knowledge thereof has soured the minds of all toward me. That cursed Bardya, who supplanted me in my father’s love, yet lives! I would sooner trust Darius Hystaspis than those nobles; and he loves me not!”
“It is true the Prince of Iran loves you not. But he is loyal. My only fear is that if Bardya should—should be slain by your order, the nobles would attack even you, and by their vast power among the Persian people they might overthrow you and place the King of Iran on the throne.”
The King arose from the table and paced back and forth, grinding his teeth in wrath. He realized the truth of Prexaspes’ words.
“There can be but one King on earth!” he exclaimed. “That King must be Cambyses. Bardya must die! As for Darius Hystaspis, I would order him to death, did I not believe his father would head a revolt in Iran such as I care not to meet. But I hate him! What then do you advise?”
“As to Bardya, I advise that he be put away secretly, if he must die. Let it be reported that he has returned to Bactra or that the King has given him a secluded residence in Medea, where he chose to retire for meditation. A stout person might—”
“No!” roared the King. “I have said he shall die! But let it be secretly done. Do it yourself and I will make you chief counselor of state forever, second only to myself!”
Prexaspes drew in his breath sharply.
“The King hath spoken!” he answered slowly. “I myself will slay the young man. Let the King’s word stand and not be withdrawn.”
“It shall stand!” the King assured him, taking a seal ring from his finger. “Take this in token of the King’s word.”
Prexaspes bowed low and took the glittering band.
“Now as to this Prince of Iran and his seditious Guard, what of them?” demanded the King.
Prexaspes hesitated a moment before he answered. “The Prince may be dealt with in two ways. Possibly the King may not have heard that he has dared to raise his eyes to Athura, the King’s most beautiful sister; and it is reported that she regards him with great favor. And your father promised her to him. Now it might be that if she be given him in marriage at once, it would bind him more firmly to support your rule, and—”
“Never!” cried the King, smiting his hands together. “Let them marry? Why, that would indeed be showing him favor! That would be placing him on the throne! For I have no children; and if Bardya die, who remains? Athura would be queen, and he would be King. Never! I hate him as bitterly as I do Bardya. I hate Athura, the haughty favorite of my father, ever preaching good deeds and well-doing to me!”
“Then I advise that he be given a command in a distant province. It is rumored that the Lydians are restless and that the tribes on the northern borders thereof are making forays. Send him and the old Guard thither. Mayhap a dart shall find him. At least he will be far from these Persians. His oath will keep him faithful. Let a decree be made praising him for faithful service and elevating him to the honor of a satrapy where war will keep him busy.”
The King laughed, a cruel, mirthless laugh, as he assented. “The advice is good! So be it. Bardya shall disappear to meditate—beyond the stars! Darius and Athura shall love each other, verily, but separated by two hundred parasangs! See to it! Prepare proper decrees. And Prexaspes—it is in my mind to occupy these warlike peoples in a war of conquest, even as did my father. We will prove that we too know how to conquer! There is Egypt still independent and very rich and powerful. We must have tribute to live in state as becomes the ruler of the world. Amasis claims to be equal to Cambyses—he shall bite the dust! After him, the Hellenes shall feel my power beyond the sea. Go, Prexaspes! It shall be yours to estimate the necessary revenues and to prepare the means to feed an army of five hundred thousand men who will march with me to Egypt. But, first, see to it that no brother remains behind to rouse up rebellion!”
“It shall be as you order. The King is very wise. War with Egypt will occupy the minds of the Persian nobles and will enable us to levy taxes on all the nations for the King’s treasury.”
“Be not in too great haste with this war,” continued Cambyses. “There is much to do; and life is very enjoyable in fall at Susa, in winter at Babylon, and in spring at Hamadan.”
Prexaspes bowed low and withdrew.
Later that day, the King sat in state on the throne in the great central hall of the palace and received the nobles of Persia and Medea and the officers of his court. Prexaspes stood at his right hand. Embassies from distant realms, visitors from foreign lands, and deputations from divers cities came to wait upon the Great King before returning to their various places. All petitioners, in accordance with the new etiquette, prostrated themselves before the King and so remained until bidden to arise. But the nobles of Iran, though they bowed low before him with hands on their breasts, did not bend the knee or prostrate themselves. The King greeted them coldly, resolving within himself that he would some day humble them till they also should prostrate themselves at his feet and feel his foot on their necks.
The Prince of Iran, tall, stately, richly but plainly appareled, came also. He was cordial in his greeting of the King, as became a blood-relative, but beneath the folds of his Medean cloak a light chain armor guarded his body from dagger-thrusts, even as his cordial manner concealed the distrust he felt towards Cambyses. To him Prexaspes made low obeisance. The nobles of Persia also bowed low before him with profound respect. The King became very gracious and smiled upon him as he approached. He arose from his throne and gave the Prince his royal hand.
“Cousin Darius,” he said, “it pleases me very greatly to have you here! I have disturbing news from the satrapy of our old friend Crœsus. It is said that discontent and revolt arise there and that bands of Scythians trouble its northern borders. I have been considering deeply what reward would be sufficient for one who brought the body of the Great King, my father, to its tomb. I have determined to appoint you satrap of all our empire beyond the Euphrates. In order that you may be well supported, I have prepared a decree that you may take with you the old Imperial Guard of my father to become the nucleus of the army which shall, under your command, uphold our empire there. I contemplate no less a conquest than that of Egypt at some convenient time; and it shall be your duty to levy additional soldiers among the people of your provinces for that war. When I march by Damascus and Tyre, you shall join me there with a well-disciplined army and you shall have chief command under me.”
The Prince listened in amazement. Except Babylon, the western provinces were the richest and most important of the conquered provinces in the empire. Knowing the King’s ancient hatred towards him, he was at a loss to understand why this great honor was given him. From the keen, beadlike stare of the King’s dark eyes he turned inquiringly to Prexaspes, who averted his face. He was silent a moment, seeking to penetrate the King’s design. It must be that, as King, Cambyses was not following the footsteps of Cambyses, the Prince.
“The Great King’s commands will be obeyed,” he answered presently. “I thank you for the honor so little deserved. But I had somewhat in my heart to ask the King, should I be permitted to speak.”
“Say on!” said the King, the expression of his face denoting apprehension.
“When your sire, the ever victorious Cyrus, was about to die, he gave me his consent and promise that I should marry the Princess Athura if she were willing. This was a special mark of his favor. I now ask of you, Great King, that which he promised and which you, as the head of your father’s family, may grant—the hand of the King’s sister in marriage.”
Cambyses was astonished at the boldness of the Prince. His face instantly flushed with wrath. He was about to exclaim violently, when he observed the gaze of Prexaspes turned upon him warningly and remembered that it was his part to dissemble. He resumed his seat on the throne. Constraining his anger, he said, speaking rapidly and in some confusion:
“This is a matter to which thought must be given. The time is not right. The matters demanding attention in your satrapy are urgent. I wish you to make ready and depart within ten days. I must have a Prince of the Empire in that part of my dominions. Your subjects are a warlike people who need a firm hand. As to my sister, I will talk with her. It would not be meet that the marriage take place before you go or until the days of mourning for her father elapse. The urgency of the case will not admit at this time of any delay, lest those Lydians and Scythians rise in open rebellion. I see no obstacle in the way of such marriage; but later I will consider it. Some months’ active campaigning may be your lot when no thoughts could be given to marriage. Prepare to march without delay and to put down the King’s enemies with a strong hand. If the hand of my sister in marriage be a prize to be sought after by you, faithful service to my interests may be thus rewarded. Here is my decree appointing you to your office. Rest assured that if my sister wills to be your wife, she shall be given by me to no other man.”
Prexaspes drew from his belt a roll of papyrus and presented it to the King, who handed it to the Prince. The latter took it, bowed low, and, turning on his heel, departed without further word. After he had disappeared the King turned to Prexaspes.
“What think you?” he asked. “Does it please him? And what will he do?”
“It pleases him not, but he will obey.”
The Prince of Iran passed out of the King’s presence deeply troubled. Was the King seeking to honor him and beginning to reign in a truly kinglike manner? Or was he seeking to be rid of him and his favorite troops? Mounting a horse at the gate of the palace park, where his faithful groom, Orobates, awaited him, he rode directly to the old palace where Bardya and his sisters were residing. There he dismounted and was quickly ushered into the presence of Princess Athura. He found her sitting upon a divan in the inner court, playing on a harp and softly singing to its accompaniment. Several young women companions had left the room when the servants announced the coming of the Prince.
“Greeting and welcome!” she said smilingly, as the young man bowed low before her. She put aside the harp and arose. “Be seated, illustrious Prince, at my right hand!” He kissed the hands extended to him, and both sat down on the divan.
At once noting the serious expression of his countenance, the Princess asked, “What so serious as to cause frowns and wrinkles?”
“I have stood before the King as I said I would and asked that he consent to our marriage,” he answered. “Instead of consenting, he does me the honor to appoint me governor of Lydia and command me to depart forthwith, saying there is urgent need and that I must take with me the Guard.”
“What? Another war? And must you go?”
“It is the King’s command! It is not an honor that he is giving me. It is his desire to place me among those who know me not! Foolish King! He will find none less likely to rebel than I. It is not in his mind to consent to our marriage. He made no promise. He said he would think of it and speak with you.”
“But he shall consent!” exclaimed Athura, warmly. “If not, then will I go with you and marry you without his consent. He shall never control me or send me where I do not choose to go!”
“My soul rejoices to hear you say this!” said the Prince, drawing her close to him with encircling arm. “But we must have patience. He is King. He is the head of your family. Should we marry without his consent, he might deem it such insult to his majesty as to lead him to immediate violence. I fear that I may some day be compelled to forget my sacred oath to his father. Let us exercise patience, light of mine eyes, hope of my soul!”
Her regal head rested on his strong shoulder. She touched lightly with her fingers the dark locks of hair that graced his brow. Presently, as she remained silent, he continued:
“He may consent that you come to me. What happiness would be mine! But you—it would mean a foreign land, and possibly dwelling in the midst of war.”
“Am I not my father’s daughter? Am I afraid of war? It would be joy to go with you, to see new lands, new peoples, to be a queen where you would be virtually king, to ride a horse in battle! I will wait for you to come or to send for me. No other man, be he King or noble, shall I ever marry. If not you, none other!”
“Nor shall I have any other queen than you, beloved of my soul! Let us not despair. I will speak to the Persian nobles if he does not presently consent. Their influence and my father’s may force his consent. If danger threaten you, fly to my mother. She will protect you even against Cambyses.”
Further converse was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from the outer hallway and the immediate appearance of Prince Bardya at the door. He had evidently just come from a ride, as his clothes and whip indicated. His handsome, flushed countenance indicated rapid riding through the wind. He smiled, as his sister and the Prince arose in embarrassed silence.
“Pardon my intrusion, beloved sister and brother!” he begged. “I have had a wonderful gallop over the hills towards Lake Baktigan, and some rough climbing. Have you seen the other King this day?”
The Prince of Iran briefly related his visit to the King and its result. Bardya nervously slapped the riding whip against his boots and a frown gathered on his brow as he listened.
“His object is plain!” he exclaimed, as the Prince ceased speaking. “He sends you to a distant place that you may not be near me, a very shrewd trick! He will never allow you to marry Athura because he hates you both. But let us defy him! My sister shall go with me. Then you may come, Prince, and marry her! We shall defy him. We shall acknowledge him as overlord, according to my father’s will; but not a foot shall he set on our lands—neither he nor any servants of his!”
The Prince of Iran was disturbed at Bardya’s words. It was evident that the latter intended to declare his independence as soon as possible and that war would ensue. What would be his own duty then? His oath would align him with Cambyses; his heart would drive him to Bardya.
“Great Prince,” he answered, “I know you love me as a friend and so I make bold to speak a warning. Do not utter such thoughts aloud any more. Ears may hear and tongues may carry to the King’s ears. Then he would surely have you arrested and slain. I counsel prudence and extreme watchfulness. Return as soon as possible to Bactra. I long to go with you. But I must obey his decree or be placed in the position of rebelling. I go as ordered. After the war is finished (if I find it necessary to make war), I will demand Athura. If he refuse consent, I will leave his service and enter yours, but never as against him. But I do not think he will dare deny my suit. Am I not an Achæmenian, and is there any of higher birth?”
“I will heed your advice,” replied Bardya. “You were ever wise and far-seeing. I will be silent and watchful. The guards you gave me ride with me always. One sleeps at my bedroom door, and the others guard the palace doors and grounds. But if you march hence in ten days, it behooves me to seek others.”
“I will furnish them from the faithful retainers on my father’s estate. But I advise immediate return to Bactra, even if it must be by flight in the night. I am greatly troubled for your safety.”
Bardya laughed. “You are needlessly alarmed,” he asserted. “But on the morrow I will announce to the King my purpose of returning forthwith.”
At this moment there came a knock at the door and a servant appeared. “A messenger stands at the door,” he announced.
“Admit him!” commanded Bardya.
A man in the King’s livery entered, and bowing almost to the floor before royalty, presented a folded bit of papyrus to Bardya. The latter took it, unfolded it, and read. He then ordered the messenger to retire, and after he had disappeared he read aloud:
“‘Cambyses, the King of Kings, King of the World, to his Brother, Bardya, and to his Sisters, Athura and Artistone, greeting:
“‘Know that I propose to remain here two weeks longer and will then return to Hamadan. It is my will that you make ready to accompany me to that city in order that my court may be graced by your presence and that the people may know that we are of good-will towards you. Later my brother may depart thence to his provinces. Farewell.
“‘CAMBYSES.’”
“My brother is beginning to rule us very soon!” exclaimed Athura, indignantly.
“He shall not order me!” exclaimed Bardya, fiercely.
“He is King!” warned the Prince of Iran. “Hamadan is many parasangs nearer Bactra than this city. It is also nearer Lydia. I counsel obedience. It will be easier to escape from Hamadan than from Pasargadæ, if escape you must; and a week’s journey will then bring you into your own realm. Besides, it may be, the King is earnestly desirous of showing good-will.”
“Good-will!” rejoined Bardya. “The King speaks of my ‘provinces,’ as if I were a mere satrap! It seems to me that I should be first consulted in such matters. It is in my mind to return to him a message that I choose to remain here for a time and then to return direct to Bactra.”
Bardya strode back and forth across the room wrathfully. He threw the King’s message on the floor and trampled upon it. The Prince of Iran watched him in gloomy silence. Athura went to her brother and placing her hand on his shoulders made him halt and look down into her clear, steady eyes. More than once she had calmed the anger of her impetuous younger brother thus.
“Brother, listen to me!” she said imploringly. “Listen to the Prince of Iran, if not to me! We are older than you, and you have never found us unfaithful to your interests. Cambyses is King of Kings, King of the World, by right of birth and by your father’s last decree. He speaks fairly to you. It is right that we visit him at his court in Hamadan and render him the honor due to him. You are here in his power. You should never have come hither at all. Wisdom dictates that you go to Hamadan, in all brotherly kindness. Then should he show an evil disposition, it will be much easier to escape to Bactra. At all events, brother, be not first to bring on war. Only in a just cause will the Aryans follow you.”
Bardya was impressed. He kissed her forehead. “I will do as you advise,” he replied. “I am crippled by that oath our father exacted of the King of Iran and of our Prince here. Without their aid, it would be wild, foolish, and impossible to begin war. I feel that should I begin the war, even they would oppose me with the armies of Iran. I am no better than a caged tiger.”
The Prince of Iran looked upon his young friend sorrowfully. “My father and I have sworn!” he said. “How can our words return to us? We are bound to support Cambyses as King of Kings. No less are we bound to aid you if oppressed by him. We will not fail you. Should he seek to detain you, we shall demand your release, even at the head of an army. What can you ask more? That we be oath-breakers?”
“No, I ask it not! I will be guided by your advice.”
Having thus decided, the three composed a message from Bardya to the King, notifying him that it would please Bardya to visit Hamadan on his way to Bactra and be his guest for some days. The Prince of Iran then took his departure and went to the camp of the Imperial Guard. After detailing a strong company to guard the palace wherein slept his beloved, he called a council of all his chief captains and read to them the King’s decree directing him and the Guard to march into Western Asia. The captains were delighted. The common soldiers, when they heard the news next day, broke forth in a pandemonium of jubilation. To march into the rich country of rich old Crœsus with their beloved Prince, to gain renown and wealth, though by hard knocks, under such a leader—what more could a stout warrior ask? So they all rejoiced and one and all agreed that King Cambyses was a wise King. But their Prince and Commander was silent and sorrowful.
Cambyses announced, two days later, that it pleased him to accept the invitation of the Prince of Iran to hunt royal game on his estates in the jungles surrounding Lake Baktigan. This lake is a brackish body of water lying in the bottom of a long, narrow valley between low mountains, a day’s journey south of Persepolis. It is shallow in summer and fall, but in spring, after the winter rains, fed by the floods of the Araxes and several mountain torrents, it rises to respectable dimensions, and is then about sixty miles long by five wide. Reeds, grass, shrubs, and stunted trees cover its shores. On the hills near is some heavy timber. Little known to the modern traveler, yet, in the ancient days, it was a resort of royal hunters who dared to seek the lion and the tiger in their lairs. It was a part of the estates of the King of Iran. The Prince, as was the custom, had invited the King of Kings to make free use of all his father’s property. But he was surprised when Cambyses indicated that he would hunt. Prexaspes had advised his royal master to accept because it would please the Persian nobility. Cambyses also desired to show himself a mighty hunter, as had all his ancestry, and this influenced him to dissemble his true feeling towards the Prince and to accept his invitation. Prince Bardya and the great lords of Persia were invited to attend. It fell upon the Prince of Iran as host to provide transportation, victuals, equipage, and beaters; and right royally did he provide.
It was an imposing expedition that marched down the swift Araxes to the jungles of Lake Baktigan. First, on a big horse, rode a magnificently attired master of the hunt, glittering in gold and silver and gorgeous in crimson uniform. Then followed several hundred skilled hunters, wardens of the estate whose duty it was to furnish the table of King Hystaspis with game and to guard his preserves against common robbers and poachers. They were arrayed in distinctive uniform and were mounted on wiry animals used to hill-climbing and hunting. With them was a pack of hounds. Then rode King Cambyses, on a beautiful white stallion, and looking right royal in his close-fitting tunic, his leather riding-breeches, red shoes, and round felt cap in which were stuck several black eagle feathers. A stout armor-bearer rode next with the King’s short sword, a buckler, a stout bow, and a quiver full of arrows. Another servant carried javelins and a heavy spear. At the King’s left and half a horse behind rode Prexaspes similarly arrayed. Behind them rode the Prince of Iran, Prince Bardya, and a hundred or more notables. Many pack-animals and servants followed with the impedimenta.
They camped in a dense forest at the northern end of the lake, where the Araxes poured in its flood of fresh water. Next day the hunt began. The chief huntsman built a low platform in the branches of a live-oak which stood at the crossing of several jungle paths about a mile below the camp. The King and his armor-bearers took station on this, while the nobles and retainers formed in line at some distance to the rear in order to turn the game should it pass him. Cambyses was a great archer. It was his daily custom to practice shooting with the heavy Persian bow. He boasted that no man in Iran could excel him. None ever did excel in his presence, it being convenient to miss and stand lower in the scores than his Royal Highness. It is related that the King was accustomed to shoot apples from the heads or hands of boys, an example possibly followed by William Tell of later fame. The King later attempted this feat with the son of Prexaspes and slew the son.
The huntsmen went to a point several miles down the lake, and, having formed a long line with one end resting on the shore and the other far out on the hills, marched with shouts, horn-blowing, and drum-beating northward and drove the savage denizens of the wilderness towards the King. The latter acquitted himself very well. Deer and antelope fell before his arrows. Jackals, snapping at the shafts which pierced their vitals, tumbled about and died. The King roared with savage laughter as the stricken animals leaped to their death. A wild boar was smitten, but, gnashing his teeth in rage and pain, he turned upon the beaters desperately and gashed one severely with his tusks. Animals which escaped the King ran the gantlet of weapons in the hands of the nobles. The slaughter was great. Two lions were aroused, but they broke through the line of beaters and escaped. That night all feasted on the King’s meat and praised his skill.
On the next day Cambyses decided to hunt on foot, following the hunters with hounds through the jungle paths. His nobles followed to witness his feats of arms. Hunters and beaters formed a long semicircular line with the wings thrust forward, one along the margin of the lake, and the other along a ridge running parallel thereto. The King was at the middle of the line with the chief hunter. The Prince of Iran, Prince Bardya, and several of the nobles followed closely after him.
Several smaller animals soon fell before the King’s archery, but he fretted because no lion or tiger appeared. He ordered the hounds unloosed. They sprang away into the jungle, and almost immediately terrific roars announced the presence of lions. A female and a young lion appeared, dashing towards the hills, the mother turning now and again to leap at the snarling pack baying at her heels. The King loosed an arrow at her, but it fell short. He was about to pursue, when a more thunderous roar close by warned him of the proximity of another royal beast. An instant later, a black-maned male lion appeared in an open space twenty paces distant, lashing his tail and emitting breathy coughs of rage. The animal paused but an instant, crouching low, then leaped towards the King with gigantic bounds. The King drew an arrow to its head and launched it. It smote the lion in the shoulder, but missed a vital point. Cries of terror arose from the attendants, and the armor-bearer of the King sought to interpose his buckler between the beast and his master. But master and man went down in a heap under the impact of the lion’s heavy body. Then the Persian nobles gallantly hastened to the rescue. The Prince of Iran dashed forward with a heavy spear and thrust the sharp blade into the red mouth of the lion as it sprang to meet him. It reared up on hind legs, battling with the heavy spear. Prince Bardya then shot an arrow into the beast’s side with such force that the barb passed through its body. Its heart was transfixed; the great beast gasped, fell over, and died.
Cambyses was not severely injured, but was much chagrined. He had missed a fair shot, been ignobly thrown down, and saved by those he hated. He gave short thanks to his saviors and berated his armor-bearer for not interposing more effectually. He hunted no more after that on foot in the jungle, but he succeeded in slaying two lions from the safety of a platform erected in a tree.
The hunt thus having proved a success, the King returned to Pasargadæ.