"Never mind, my brave Pegasus!" cried Bellerophon. "With another stroke
like that, we will stop either its hissing or its roaring."
And again he shook the bridle. Dashing aslantwise, as before, the winged
horse made another arrow-flight toward the Chimaera, and Bellerophon
aimed another downright stroke at one of the two remaining heads, as he
shot by. But this time, neither he nor Pegasus escaped so well as at
first. With one of its claws, the Chimaera had given the young man a deep
scratch in his shoulder, and had slightly damaged the left wing of the
flying steed with the other. On his part, Bellerophon had mortally
wounded the lion's head of the monster, insomuch that it now hung
downward, with its fire almost extinguished, and sending out gasps of
thick black smoke. The snake's head, however (which was the only one now
left), was twice as fierce and venomous as ever before. It belched forth
shoots of fire five hundred yards long, and emitted hisses so loud, so
harsh, and so ear-piercing, that King Iobates heard them, fifty miles
off, and trembled till the throne shook under him.
"Well-a-day!" thought the poor king; "the Chimaera is certainly coming to
devour me!"
Meanwhile Pegasus had again paused in the air, and neighed angrily,
while sparkles of a pure crystal flame darted out of his eyes. How
unlike the lurid fire of the Chimaera! The aerial steed's spirit was all
aroused, and so was that of Bellerophon.
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