“Strange,” Hercules muttered to himself as he got to his feet. “But at least now I know which path to follow. All I have to do is find out where it starts.”
He headed back down the hill. I ran invisibly behind him. When he reached the farm, he found Humus and Pita running around, very upset.
“Whoa!” said Hercules. “What’s wrong?”
“A huge lion is on the mountain!” said Humus.
“He will come down tonight and eat our cows!” said Pita. “And there is nothing we can do to stop him!”
“Is, too!” Hercules cried. His eyes flashed with anger. “I’ll save the cows! I’ll slay this evil lion! I’ll bash him to bits!”
All those years hanging out with the mellow cows hadn’t mellowed Hercules at all. One lion shows up and bam! He’s ready to bash heads.
Hercules ran over to a tree. He broke off a huge limb.
“I have a club, lion!” he shouted. “And here I come to bash you with it!” He raced up the mountain.
“Come back, Hercules!” Pita shouted after him. “This lion is a horrible monster!”
“A horrible monster?” said Hercules. “Good! That means I am on the right path!”
Hercules kept running. I ran after him. Halfway up the mountain some big footprints appeared in the path. Hercules stopped.
“Your big feet don’t scare me, lion!” he bellowed.
He was answered by a bone-rattling roar.
The roar only made Hercules run faster. He followed those lion tracks all the way to the top of the mountain. I followed him. Keeping up with Hercules was exhausting, even for a god. At last, just as the sun was setting, Hercules came upon the lion. From the sound of his roar, I’d expected a majestic beast. But this was a scrawny specimen. He lay stretched out on a boulder, snoozing.
The lion heard Hercules coming and looked up, smothering a yawn.
“You’re not going to eat my cows, lion!” Hercules growled.
“You got that right,” said the lion, sitting up. “I’m a vegetarian.”
“A what?” said Hercules.
“I eat vegetables,” the lion explained. “Fruit, seeds, nuts. A little fish. But no red meat. Doesn’t agree with me. I’m not after your cows. The name’s Cithaeron, by the way, but everyone calls me Cee. And you are . . . ?”
“I am what?” said Hercules.
“I mean, what’s your name?” said the lion.
“Hercules,” our hero answered. He lowered his club. But he still looked suspicious. “How come I can understand the speech of a lion?”
“Long ago, I ate a little wood nymph,” said Cee. “Didn’t mean to do it. I was eating a fig leaf, and she was on it. Ever since, I’ve had the gift of speech.”
“Why were you roaring?” Hercules asked.
“That wasn’t me,” said Cee. “That was my cousin, NeMean. He’s the meanest lion ever. And he is after your cows.”
Another thunderous roar split the air.
Hercules waved his club over his head. “You’ll never get my cows, NeMean!” he shouted. “I’m coming to slay you!”
“Not with that tree branch, you won’t,” said Cee.
“It’s a club,” said Hercules. “And what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” said Cee. “But NeMean has impenetrable skin.”
“Oh,” said Hercules. “I had a rash once. Itched like crazy.”
“Impenetrable means no weapon can hurt him,” said Cee. “No weapon can pierce his skin.”
“What about a sword?” asked Hercules.
“Nope.”
“Bow and arrow?”
Cee shook his head.
“Spear?” said Hercules.
“Not even.”
“Battle-axe?”
“Listen,” said Cee, “you can stand here and name weapons all night long. But not one of them can kill NeMean.”
“Then I’ll go after him with my bare hands!” growled Hercules.
“That could work,” said Cee. “But you might get hurt. I have a better idea.”
“What?” said Hercules.
“NeMean fears only one thing in this world,” said Cee. “Lester the Lion Slayer.”
“Never heard of him,” said Hercules.
“Lester slew NeMean’s grandfather,” said Cee. “He skinned him and flung the skin over his shoulders as a cape. Then Lester hollowed out his head and set it on his own head as a helmet. Now he looks out at the world through the lion’s great jaws. Revolting, huh?”
“Awesome,” said Hercules. He looked off into the night sky, as if picturing himself wearing just this sort of getup.
“What if NeMean thought you were Lester?” said Cee.
“Do I look like Lester?” asked Hercules.
“No,” said Cee. “But you might if you had on a lion cape and helmet.”
Hercules nodded. “Well, so long, pal.” He raised his club over Cee’s head.
“Hold it! Hold it!” shouted Cee. “You don’t have to kill me!”
Hercules looked suspicious. “How else can I get a lion cape?”
“I can drape myself around your shoulders like a cape,” said Cee. “Then I’ll rest my head on top of yours. Up close, it wouldn’t look that believable. But from a distance, it should be good enough to scare NeMean away and save your cattle.”
“And my cows, too?” said Hercules.
“Er, yes,” said Cee. “Your cows, too.”
Hercules hesitated for a moment. “If you’re NeMean’s cousin,” he said at last, “why aren’t you on his side?”
“You like all your cousins?” asked Cee. Hercules wrinkled his nose. I could tell he was thinking of Eury. He shook his head.
“Well, I don’t like NeMean,” said Cee. “He stole me away from my mama when I was a little baby lion. He makes me wait on him. He thinks I’ll try to make a break for it when he goes off hunting, so . . . ” Cee held up his left hind foot. A chain was looped around his ankle. Attached to the other end of the chain was a great big rock.
Hercules bent down, grabbed the chain with both hands, and began to pull. His muscles bulged out bigger and bigger and then—SNAP!
“Wow, thanks!” Cee rubbed the spot where the chain had been.
“No problem.” Hercules turned his back to the lion and bent down. “Hop on.”
Cee jumped onto Hercules’s back. He threw his front legs over one side of his neck. He swung his back legs over the other. He rested his chin on top of Hercules’s head.
“Giddy-up, horsie!” said Cee.
“What?” said Hercules.
“Never mind,” said Cee. “Let’s go save your cows.”
Hercules ran back down the mountain with the lion on his shoulders. Naturally, I ran behind. The cows were snoozing peacefully in the field. NeMean had yet to strike. Hercules slipped inside the barn. I did, too. Hercules peeked out from a crack in the door. I did the same.
There, in the moonlight, I saw the silhouette of a giant lion. What a monster! I had no idea lions could grow that big. NeMean was crouched behind an olive tree. Slowly, slowly, he crept toward the cows. He began moving faster and faster, until he was racing for the herd. Another half minute and he’d be upon them!
“Go!” said Cee. “Now! Before it’s too late!”
“But what do I say?” said Hercules.
“Say you’re Lester!” said Cee.
Hercules leapt out of the barn and shouted, “You’re Lester!”
NeMean skidded to a stop, leaving a trail of claw marks in the dirt. In the moonlight, I saw his eyes open wide.
“Now what?” whispered Hercules.
“Say your old lion cape is worn out,” whispered Cee. “Say you’re looking for a new one.”
“Your cape is old!” shouted Hercules. “You’re looking for a new one!”
It made no sense, but evidently the mere mention of Lester’s name was powerful enough to scare NeMean half to death. The giant lion spun around and started running up the mountain. He kept looking back over his shoulder, and suddenly BAM! He rammed into a tree trunk and fell to the ground.
“Whoa!” said Hercules. “That’s gotta hurt!”
“I never meant for this to happen,” said Cee. “I wonder if he’s . . .”
Cee jumped off Hercules’s shoulders. The two ran to where the giant lion lay. Cee picked up his forepaw and felt for his pulse. Then he sadly shook his head. Considering how mean NeMean had been, Cee was very forgiving.
“Um, do you think I could maybe have his impossible . . . im . . . whatever . . . skin?” asked Hercules. “That no-weapon-can-pierce thing is awesome.”
“Yes, take it,” said Cee. “NeMean would like that.”
It didn’t take Hercules long to fashion a breast plate and helmet out of NeMean.
“He looks great on you,” said Cee.
Humus and Pita had watched all this happen. Their eyes were filled with wonder. Then their eyes filled with tears, because it was pretty clear that Hercules wasn’t going to stick around the cattle farm much longer. He was ready to leave and take up his life as a hero. And when he left, Humus and Pita would have to go back to mucking out the cattle barn themselves.