The first step was up to his knees, and the second step was up to his
waist; and the stones rolled about his feet, and his feet slipped about
the stones; so he went on staggering and panting, while the old woman
cried from off his back:
"Fool, you have wet my mantle! Do you make game of poor old souls like
me?"
Jason had half a mind to drop her, and let her get through the torrent
by herself; but Cheiron's words were in his mind, and he said only:
"Patience, mother; the best horse may stumble some day."
At last he staggered to the shore, and set her down upon the bank; and a
strong man he needed to have been, or that wild water he never would
have crossed.
He lay panting awhile upon the bank, and then leapt up to go upon his
journey; but he cast one look at the old woman, for he thought, "She
should thank me once at least."
And as he looked, she grew fairer than all women, and taller than all
men on earth; and her garments shone like the summer sea, and her jewels
like the stars of heaven; and over her forehead was a veil, woven of the
golden clouds of sunset; and through the veil she looked down on him,
with great soft heifer's eyes; with great eyes, mild and awful, which
filled all the glen with light.
And Jason fell upon his knees, and hid his face between his hands.
And she spoke: "I am the Queen of Olympus, Hera the wife of Zeus.
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