"Mortal, dare you even think to consort with the G.o.ds!"

For a moment he heard no other sound. He looked up in awe at the darkened sky. The silence enwrapped him as a shroud. Even the wind whispered not.

"On your way! Back to your valley!"

Lightless, the sky seemed only a black blanket drawn over his head. The winds once more gusted, tearing angrily at trees and bushes. The thunder rumbled ominously in preparation for another lightning strike.

"Marry for yourself a simple galleymaid. Do not anger the mighty Zeus! Husband to Athena? Bah!"

He shrank back in dismay, wide-eyed.

Though he was silent, Athena bravely replied. "He has saved me from your evil brother, Pluto. He has risked his life for mine.

He shall be rewarded. Oh mighty Zeus, if you love me, grant this to me."

Rumblings reverberated from the walls of the mountain canyon.

Finally they give way to silence. Then, with brief lightning flashes from cloud to cloud, there is a response.

"Very well, my dear. Perhaps it shall be as you desire. He's a brave young man. Striking down a minion of Pluto alone does not, of itself, make him deserving. Nevertheless, he may indeed join us on Olympus."

The voice stopped, the clouds darkened even more. The mountain, in the midst of day, is black as midnight.

By the sound alone he knows that Athena again reaches her hand to him. And again a bolt from the sky separates the two.

"No! First he must prove himself worthy." The voice once more thunders. "To win the hand of a G.o.ddess is not an easy ch.o.r.e.

But, if you prove yourself, it shall be as you desire. First, though, . . .," - and now the voice grew soft and warm with an a.s.sumed kindness.

"Yes, first you must perform some minor ch.o.r.es. A few little tasks, perhaps. Yes, that's it! A dozen or so little tasks.

Piddling things, actually. Hmmm, let me give some thought to this."

The skies were beginning to lighten. The voice of Zeus had softened indeed, as had his mood. The clouds were rapidly dissipating. Blue patches of sky emerged. The dark clouds dissipated, and small white clouds drifted gently above.

"Go home! Prepare yourself! And when I call be quick to begin your sojourn. - Eh, yes, I think minor little ch.o.r.es."

It almost sounds like Zeus is humming happily to himself.

The wind whipped the leaves along the pathway, the clouds tore asunder. And, even as he glanced back to earth, Athena, too, had departed.

Nothing remained to reflect the tragedy that might have been.

Nothing remained to reflect the beauty and wonder of Athena. Yet . . . .

On the ground, fluttering in the now gentle breeze, a single memento - a pure white feather. He picked it up gently, reverently.

What to do?

What to do? "This is madness. I am dreaming. Death and imps!

G.o.ddesses and G.o.ds. What has happened today? Can it be real!" He looked around at the forest, at the sky. All was calm, normal.

Except for one thing.

In his hand he held a white feather.

Reluctantly he continued his hunt. There must be food for his mother and himself. In spite of himself, because of the day's events, his thoughts strayed.

He blushed again as he thought of the beautiful G.o.ddess. "Can I return to my hut, live as a simple hunter, having seen her?"

"No! As Zeus has spoken, I shall return and await his command.

After all, how difficult can be a few little ch.o.r.es?"

He thought he saw the imp dancing through the bushes, chortling in glee.

Suddenly he tossed away the white feather. Even as it floated down the side of the mountain he took up his weapons, returned to the hunt.

"How foolish can I be," he muttered to himself. "Even if it were real. I to wed a G.o.ddess! It cannot be!"

Shadows were lengthening, soon night would fall. Nights on the high mountain are cold and forlorn. Already the sun, hidden by the storm clouds, neared the horizon. The sky, an angry red, peaked through rents in the dark clouds. Large drops of rain pelted him, cold with the hint of hail.

Yet, swiftly, the body of the storm had swept by. The remaining clouds drifted high above, each in its solitary domain. The wind still gusted from time to time, momentarily, then faded.

Tree leaves fluttered as the evening breeze began its soft caress. In the eastern sky a single star began to shine. One of the heaven's wanderers, not unlike himself on the earth below.

He halted. In the copse ahead a creature moved. Sensing his presence it froze in position. A tawny hide, revealed momentarily between the leaves, brought a gleam to Demo's eye.

A buck!

Demo notched his arrow, waited silently.

The antlered head extended above the bushes. The moist nostrils sniffed the air. Then the buck bounded across the trail.

The arrow flew, and without glancing at the prey he unstrung his bow.

As he moved toward the copse a falling leaf drifted down, dressed in the yellow-brown of the coming season. His eyes followed it, then he glanced toward the copse. In astonishment, he noted that the buck was no where to be seen. Quickly he rushed forward. Nothing! No buck, and no sign of life!

"Not possible, not possible that I have missed! Now, where is the deer," Demo wondered aloud.

The light glinted on an object. He saw, lying on the forest floor, that object. An object that caused him to freeze in place. A beautiful white feather. And beneath it on the ground, his arrow. Athena will not be rejected!

Uncertainly he stared from side to side, hesitated. Finally he picked up the feather, pressed it to his heart.

"It is the will of the G.o.ds!"

He returned the arrow to its pouch, rushed through the darkening forest to the mountain hut far below.

"I must prepare myself. I must be ready to perform the tasks of Zeus!"

Olympus is a world far removed from this, our earthly abode.