POSEIDON

By LORD DUNSANY THE sun was slanting towards the Peloponnese when I came to the temple of Poseidon. Its columns by the sheer edge of the land appeared to be absorbing the gold of the sunlight, and almost to be about to turn into golden air. If that was a fancy, it faded when I drew nearer ; and when I came to the columns the fancy was gone. Mountains and islands lay in a semicircle round the sea, and were be- ginning to draw imperceptibly about them the purple cloaks they are wont to wear at evening. When I went into the temple I saw no one there, but after gazing awhile over the sea, I noticed sitting among the weeds a little, quiet, old man.

He never spoke a word till I spoke to him, and then, whatever it was that I said, he sighed and told me these days were not like the old days.

" What do you do ?" I asked, thinking perhaps he followed some trade which changing times had ruined.

" Nothing now," he said. " I have retired. I do nothing now." He sighed and said no more.

" And what used you to do?" I asked.

" Ah," he said. " Ah, I used to shake the earth. Literally shake it. I used to alarm men living miles inland."

" Alarm them ?" I said.

" Certainly," he replied. " Nine miles inland, and even further than that. And they used to sacrifice to me in this temple. Bulls. Great numbers of bulls. Fine bulls that bled beautifully. And the very earth shaking while they sacrificed. Those were the days. Those were the days. I used to make storms in those days that shook the very earth."

" Then you were . . . . " I was beginning.

" Certainly I was," he said. " This is my temple." " And they no longer sacrifice to you ?" I asked.

" That, certainly, is the case," he said. " That is the trouble. When they sacrifice again I shall shake the very earth.

But men are neglectful and indolent, not like their grandsires. Why, I've seen as many as fifty bulls at one time in this temple."

" And why don't you shake the earth ? " I asked him.

" Well, you can't do much without the blood of bulls," he said. " You can't expect strength to shake the earth without the blood of bulls. Of course they will sacrifice to me again ; probably quite soon, but just now they are indolent and neglectful."

" But why should they sacrifice to you ?" I asked.

" It is their duty," he said sharply.

And then I did what you should never do when talking of any religion: I tried to argue.

" But usen't they to sacrifice to prevent you shaking the earth ?" I asked.

" Certainly," he replied.

" Then why should they sacrifice to make you strong enough to do it again ?" I said.

But the argument got me nowhere. Argument on such subjects never does. He merely lost interest, and as he lost interest he faded ; till his outline and face and beard and tattered cloak were little vivider than the evening air. And then a humming-bird hawk-moth came dashing up and hung by a flower upon vibrating wings, and the old god moved away from it. " What is all its hurry about?" I heard him say petulantly. " Why can't it be placid? I never hurry like that. There is no need for it, no need at all."

And I think he pretended to me to depart of his own free will ; but he was obviously wafted away by the draught, from the wings of the humming-bird hawk- moth.